All Chapters of Blood Ties And Silk Chains: Chapter 101 - Chapter 110

The envoy came unarmed—at least, visibly so.Two guards escorted him through the perimeter, hands open, eyes calm.He looked like a banker on holiday, not the mouthpiece of a syndicate that had bled the city for years.Bram met him at the elevator and murmured into the comm. “Courier’s here. Claims diplomatic immunity.”Varian’s voice came over the line, low and sharp. “We don’t recognize Arbiters as diplomats.”Liora stood beside him in the operations room, watching the feeds. The envoy’s calm made her skin crawl.She’d seen too many men walk to their own executions with that same serenity.“Bring him up,” Varian ordered.Bram hesitated. “You sure?”“Yes,” Varian said. “Let him see who he’s dealing with.”The elevator doors slid open to reveal the envoy. He stepped out, smiling faintly, his suit the kind of subtle wealth that whispered rather than shouted.“Director Kole,” he said. “Or should I say Mr. Kole now? The world thinks you’re a private citizen again.”Varian didn’t answer.

Morning came like a hangover—gray, heavy, too bright for the night before.Varian stood at the window, bare-chested, phone pressed to his ear, jaw set. The skyline flickered with news drones; the city hadn’t slept either. Liora stirred in the bed behind him, the sheets still tangled with last night’s chaos.“Ines,” he said into the call. “Start over.”Her voice crackled through static. “The Marcelli scraps just allied with two Arbiter cells. Someone’s paying mercs by the hour. And there’s chatter about a new contractor—calls himself The Harrow.”Varian’s hand tightened around the phone. “Never heard of him.”“You wouldn’t have,” Ines said grimly. “He’s a myth from the Black Channel days. He doesn’t take sides. He ends them.”Liora sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest. “Ends who?”Varian turned, meeting her eyes. “Everyone.”He ended the call and sat beside her, the weight of what was coming already settling between them. “They’re joining forces. For once, the enemy’s not fighting

The rain hadn’t stopped for two days. It streaked the penthouse windows in long silver threads, like veins across a darkened body.Varian stood before the glass, watching the city churn. The skyline glowed with divided loyalties—half the lights burning for them, half against. Behind him, the table was crowded with his old lieutenants, Bram at the head, arms folded.“You’re serious about this?” Bram asked flatly. “Protection, not deterrence?”“Not just protection,” Varian said. “Infrastructure. Response teams. Civilians on payroll instead of contractors with silencers.”Ines arched a brow. “You’re dismantling your teeth.”Varian turned. “I’m sharpening them in a new direction.”Bram leaned forward. “You built this on fear, Varian. You take that away—what’s left?”“Order,” Varian replied simply. “Not the kind that cages people—the kind that stops them from being prey.”Liora entered quietly, hair pulled back, eyes alert. She paused behind Varian’s shoulder, reading the room before speak

“Guns are loud,” Liora said, eyes fixed on the glass board that stretched across the war room wall. “But paper—paper kills slower. Cleaner. Permanently.”Bram frowned, arms folded. “You want to fight The Harrow with court filings?”“Yes,” she said flatly. “I want his empire to collapse under its own weight.”Varian stood across from her, arms braced on the table. “Then show me how.”Liora tapped a marker against the map. “His front company—Roth & Vale Imports—handles nearly all his logistics. Legal on paper. Dirty in practice. Tax filings, offshore accounts, unpaid duties. We hit him with coordinated seizures and injunctions. Every shipment frozen. Every warehouse padlocked.”Ines raised a brow. “That’ll take a small army of lawyers.”“I already built one,” Liora said. “And they don’t need guns. Just signatures.”Varian’s mouth twitched into a small, dangerous smile. “You’re building your own version of warfare.”Liora met his gaze. “You taught me that control isn’t only about force.

The meeting with Leth was supposed to be controlled, quiet, sterile—neutral ground in a decommissioned customs hall. Neutral, Varian thought grimly, was a lie.Leth paced near the loading crates, jacket too crisp, eyes darting. “I told you, Varian, the Gray contracts weren’t mine. I just signed the renewals—”“You signed every one of them,” Varian said. “That’s ownership, whether you meant it or not.”Liora stood a few feet behind, silent, her hand resting near her holster but not drawing. She’d insisted on coming, though every instinct in him had wanted her to stay away. Trust was her word now. So he was trying.Bram leaned against a crate, watching the shadows. “We shouldn’t be here long. Feels wrong.”“Everything feels wrong lately,” Liora murmured.Varian ignored the tension, stepped closer to Leth. “You were the one who said the Arbiters were dead in the water. You were the one who swore you wanted redemption.”“I do,” Leth snapped. “But you’re not the judge, Varian. You never w