Fires of Conflict

                            POV: Vivienne Ashford

"We have until nine tomorrow morning to file our opposition brief with Judge Thorne," Genevieve said, tapping the emergency motion on our glass war room table. "Vance is claiming a line-by-line code audit is necessary to value Ashford Technologies."

"He doesn't want a valuation." I studied the printed schematics. "He wants my mother's foundational algorithms. If that source code leaves our vault, Vanguard could have access to it by afternoon. We need to prove this motion is nothing more than a bad-faith fishing expedition."

Genevieve nodded. "I'll have the revised arguments ready before midnight."

Before she could continue, the matte-black phone in my blazer pocket vibrated.

I raised it to my ear. "Roman, I'm working through the night."

"Leave the building through the subterranean garage, little rabbit." His voice was low and unusually grim. "My perimeter spotters have picked up two unlisted vehicles tracking your building. I'm four blocks away in my mobile command unit."

I straightened. "Vance wouldn't send surveillance operatives to my office."

"Vance isn't calling the shots. The shadow entity behind the Obsidian leak is mobilising. I'm placing four guards at your estate gates and two armoured sedans on your route."

"No." I pushed back from the table. "If Marcus Vance or the media photographs me surrounded by Cavendish men, they'll use it to suggest I'm tied to your syndicate. My rules still stand. Do not put guards at my gate."

"You're playing with fire, Vivienne."

"I'm protecting my company."

I ended the call before he could argue.

---

An hour later, I arrived at Ashford Manor.

Damon stood beside the foyer fireplace, swirling a tumbler of scotch. His silk shirt was unbuttoned, and the smug expression on his face suggested he still believed he had some control over my life.

"Late night, wife?" he scoffed, stepping into my path. "Once Judge Thorne grants our motion for a code audit, we'll see what your mother's software is really worth. You thought taking back my five percent would save you? Next week, your entire vault could be open for inspection."

I regarded him without interest. He reeked of scotch and sounded far more confident than a man in his position had any right to be.

He had no idea that surveillance teams were watching the city streets or that Vance might be taking orders from someone who considered Damon nothing more than a disposable pawn.

"Your ignorance is your only protection, Damon," I said quietly. "Enjoy it while it lasts."

His smile faded. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"It means you should go back to your guest suite."

I stepped around him and headed upstairs, leaving his confused curses behind me.

---

At eight-thirty that evening, I left the manor to meet Genevieve at a secure legal facility near the court complex. Rain slicked the downtown streets, turning the neon signs into blurred reflections across the road.

A glance through the rear-view mirror made my stomach tighten.

Two dark sedans were following us at a discreet distance.

Roman.

He had ignored my refusal and deployed his shadow detail anyway.

I turned away from the mirror, forcing my attention back to the road. I would deal with him later.

As my driver turned onto a narrow side avenue two blocks from the court complex, the lead sedan accelerated past us, apparently moving ahead to clear the intersection. The second remained behind.

A heavy black SUV suddenly burst from a side alley and swung across the road, blocking the lead vehicle.

"Miss Ashford, hold on!" my driver shouted.

The first burst of suppressed gunfire shattered the night.

Muzzle flashes flickered through the rain as the attackers opened fire on the Cavendish sedan. Roman's men returned fire, taking cover behind their vehicle.

"Reverse! Get us out of here!" I ordered, gripping the seat.

My driver slammed the gear into reverse, but before we could move, the screech of heavy tyres echoed through the narrow street.

Two armoured SUVs swept into the avenue from the main road.

Roman's team had continued monitoring the shadow detail after I left the office. His mobile command unit had repositioned closer to my route, and the moment the lead sedan reported the ambush, the nearby response team moved in.

The lead SUV stopped, and its door flew open.

Roman stepped into the rain.

He wore a heavy black tactical coat instead of his usual tailored suit. His jaw was clenched, and a suppressed firearm rested in his right hand.

He moved with frightening speed, neutralising the remaining attacker before turning towards my car.

Within seconds, he was at my passenger door.

He yanked it open and reached inside, gripping my wrist.

"Roman, let go!"

He pulled me out of the sedan and shielded me with his body as he marched me towards his armoured SUV. Ten feet away, he pushed me back against its heavy metal doorframe, blocking my path.

His eyes searched my face. His chest rose and fell sharply, and the tension in his jaw made him look almost feral.

"Are you out of your mind?" he demanded. "You refused my detail and came out here with a single driver while unidentified teams were tracking your route. You were seconds away from being caught in that ambush!"

"I told you I didn't want guards!"

"And I refused to leave you exposed!"

"You lied to me." I shoved against his chest. "You went behind my back and put men on my tail."

"I did it because I refuse to let you end up dead in a gutter!" His voice dropped, rough with fury. "Do you have any idea what went through my head when my men reported gunfire on your route?"

"That doesn't give you the right to control me!" I shot back. "This is your world, Roman. The guns, the blood, the executioners. I know what follows you everywhere, but being involved with you doesn't mean I surrender control over my life."

"The moment they targeted your mother's company to reach me, you became a target too."

"Then perhaps you should have told me the truth instead of making decisions behind my back."

His grip tightened briefly on my shoulders.

"I will put a hundred men around you before I let anyone touch you."

"I'm not your property, Roman. And I will not be caged by your syndicate."

For a moment, the fury in his expression faltered. Beneath it was something I rarely saw in him: fear.

It disappeared almost as quickly as it came.

Neither of us backed down. His need to protect me collided with my refusal to let him dictate how I lived. And neither of us was willing to surrender.

---

"Don Roman."

Viktor's voice interrupted us.

Roman held my gaze for another moment before stepping away.

"What is it?"

Viktor approached with a tactical chest rig recovered from one of the downed attackers. A wide-angle camera was mounted to its centre strap, connected to a small encrypted transmitter.

"The shooter's rig was live-streaming," he reported. "Video, spatial telemetry and ambient audio were being relayed to an off-grid remote server."

My breath caught. "They were watching us?"

"Yes. The transmission remained active throughout the attack."

Viktor glanced towards the damaged shadow sedan.

"The attackers concentrated their fire on our lead vehicle. They left Ms. Ashford's car exposed while drawing our response team into the open. They knew our men were following her."

Roman's expression hardened.

"They weren't simply trying to eliminate our security detail," Viktor continued. "They wanted to see how quickly we would respond and how far you would go once Ms. Ashford was in danger."

Roman studied the camera.

"It was a probe," he said quietly.

"That's what it looks like, Don Roman. They wanted visual confirmation of your response."

A cold shudder travelled down my spine.

The people behind this attack might be connected to the same shadow network threatening my mother's company. We still didn't know who had ordered the ambush or who was receiving the footage.

But the purpose of the attack was becoming clearer.

They hadn't just wanted to see whether Roman could protect me.

They wanted to know how much it would cost him if he couldn't.

And now they had seen exactly how far he would go.