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Chapter 94 Cross Fire
publish date:
2025-09-30 01:18:35Ocean’s POV
The warehouse air was damp and stale, smelling faintly of rust and old oil. Ocean hugged her knees against her chest, her wrists raw where the zip-ties had cut into them. The men who had snatched her were ghosts now—slipping in and out without speaking, leaving her alone with nothing but the echo of dripping water and the scrape of rats in the corners.She had counted the hours by the slivers of light under the door. Five times it had brightened and dim
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“You are not going.”The words leave my mouth before I can temper them.Ocean does not even slow her pace.She is already halfway to the door, already in motion, already three steps ahead of the room.“Watch me,” she throws over her shoulder, calm and lethal at the same time.My jaw tightens.Not anger.Something worse.The realization that if I do not move now, she will walk straight into something I cannot control.I close the distance in three strides and catch her wrist.Not rough.Never rough.But firm enough to stop her.“Look at me,” I say.She does.And that is the problem.She does not look afraid.She does not look hesitant.She looks certain.Certain in a way that makes everything in me react.“You already agreed to the conditions,” I remind her.“And I am following them,” she replies smoothly.“No visible backup. Immediate withdrawal if anything feels off. Full communication.”Her
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“You don’t get to make that decision without me.”His voice is low.Controlled.Too controlled.I meet Sebastian’s gaze without flinching.“Watch me.”Silence drops between us like a blade.Sharp. Immediate. Dangerous.We are standing too close. Close enough that I can feel the tension rolling off him, thick and possessive, like he is trying to cage something that refuses to be contained.Good.Because I am done being contained.“You already made your move,” he continues, slower now, measuring every word. “The board. The syndicate contact. You proved your point.”I tilt my head slightly.“And?”“And now you stop,” he says.A quiet laugh escapes me.Soft. Almost amused.“No.”His jaw tightens.That one word lands harder than anything else I could have said.Because it is not defiance.It is final.“You think this is a game,” he says.“I think this is war,” I correct.Another silence.T
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“You let her do what?”Mateo does not even try to soften it.“She walked into the boardroom and dismantled them,” he says. “Clean. No noise. No force. Just strategy.”I stare at him.Not because I did not expect it.Because I did.And that is exactly the problem.“You were supposed to keep an eye on her,” I say quietly.“I did,” he replies. “And if I tried to stop her, she would have gone anyway. You know that.”I do.God, I do.Ocean does not bend.She does not wait.She decides.And the moment she decides, the rest of the world just tries to keep up.Victor steps into the room, handing me a tablet without a word.I take it.Already knowing what I am about to see.Footage.Security feeds.The boardroom.Her.Sitting at the head of the table like she has always belonged there.Like she was never anything less than power.I should feel relief.Pride.Satisfaction.Instead, some
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“You really thought you could corner me in my own house?”The room stills the moment I say it.Not quiet.Not calm.Still.Like every person seated around this table just realized they miscalculated.Good.Let them sit in that.Let them feel what it’s like to be one step behind.The boardroom of Volkov Velez was designed for power. Dark wood, glass walls, a skyline view that makes everyone feel small if they are not strong enough to own it. I used to sit here as an observer. Listening. Learning. Watching men twice my age pretend they were untouchable.Now I sit at the head.And they are the ones watching me.Marcus is not here.Of course he isn’t.He never shows up when the stage is set for exposure.Coward.Strategist.Both.But his influence lingers in the room like smoke after a fire.“You’re being dramatic,” one of the board members says, a thin smile stretched across his face. “We called this meeting to
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“You owe me.”The man across the table doesn’t even try to hide his irritation.“Funny,” he mutters, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. “I remember it the other way around.”I don’t smile.This isn’t a conversation.It’s a reckoning.“You remember wrong,” I say calmly.The private lounge is dim, isolated, soundproofed. The kind of place where deals are made quietly and debts are collected without witnesses. He chose it thinking it would give him control.He forgets something.I don’t walk into rooms I don’t already own.Mateo stands a few feet behind me, silent but present. Victor is somewhere unseen. Always unseen. That alone should have told him how this would go.“You’re pushing this too far, Sebastian,” he says, leaning back like he still believes he has leverage. “The old agreements don’t apply anymore.”“They do when I say they do.”His jaw tightens.“That’s not how this works.”I tilt my head slightly.“It i
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“You think I can’t handle them?”Victor doesn’t answer immediately.He just watches me the way he always does when he’s assessing risk instead of people. Cold. Precise. Measuring every breath, every blink, every shift in posture like I’m not his boss’s wife but a variable he needs to calculate.“I think,” he finally says, voice controlled, “they will not underestimate you again.”I tilt my head slightly.“That wasn’t the question.”His gaze sharpens.“No,” he agrees. “It wasn’t.”Silence stretches between us, thick with something unspoken. Something he doesn’t want to say and I already know.Good.Because I don’t need reassurance.I need honesty.“I don’t want them to underestimate me,” I continue, stepping closer, heels echoing against the polished floor of the private training room Sebastian insisted be built after the last incident. “I want them to fear me.”Victor’s expression does not change.But something in his eyes does
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