Treason's Harbour Novels & Stories

"Vincent is your husband. This will leave him with nothing." "He should have thought of that before he betrayed me," I said, taking the seat across from him. "And he didn't just betray me. He betrayed the trust of this entire Family." "I need to see the proof." I laid out the photos, the videos, the bank statements. Everything. "Is this enough?" My father's face grew darker with every image. When he saw the photo of Carmen wearing the family necklace, his fist slammed down on the mahogany desk. "That son of a bitch! He gave a family heirloom to a common whore!"

About 20 minutes later, on the eastern outskirts of Lakbay City along the coast. This area boasted the largest open seaport in all of Southeast Asaia. Due to perennial conflicts, infrastructure development lagged behind, with many new industrial projects underway, yet land utilization remained relatively low. However, what mattered most was that all the land near the port belonged to the Mendoza family! "Miss Chesire." The armored convoy rolled out of the city and came to a slow halt along the port road. Hansley stepped out of his sleek Koenigsegg sports car, gesturing broadly towards the expanse outside, his face brimming with arrogance.

Jake grunted, satisfied enough to let the matter rest—for now. They pushed onward, the old road barely visible beneath packed snow and overgrown shrubs. Lila’s boots soaked through. Her legs burned with cold. Still, she forced herself to move. She could feel something ahead—something off-kilter. Her pulse picked up. Then, between the thinning trees, the port came into view. Or what remained of it. The rusted skeleton of a dock extended out over the frozen bay, covered in snow and black ice. Old shipping crates lay scattered and half-buried, and a toppled watchtower slanted at a dangerous angle. The harbor had long been abandoned to time and weather—but not entirely forgotten.

"We're good." I returned to the warehouse after another half hour of fake errands. By the time I stepped inside, Vera had already started tracing the signal. "He's on the move. Northbound. Headed toward the upper docks." "What's out there?" I asked. "Abandoned shipping yards. Old warehouses. Smuggler territory." "And possibly a new Irenic nest," Cameron added. We followed remotely. Each ping of the tracker painted a map across the city. Finally, it stopped moving just outside a rusted gate marked "Condemned."

"Get in the truck." The drive down to the harbor was treacherous. Heavy rain lashed the windshield, and the wind whipped seawater across the coastal road. Cassian kept a firm grip on the steering wheel, maneuvering the heavy truck through the deep water puddles on the lower road. When they arrived at the old harbor forge, the side storage shed had indeed given way under the force of a fallen pine tree. The old wooden beams and corrugated metal roof had caved in, blocking the narrow side doorway where Arthur Henderson usually stored his coal supply.

My legs buckled when I was told that they'd fished the body of Christopher Quinton from the sea. My knees smashed into the gravel beneath my feet because I knew he'd have survived if he hadn't tried to save me. Three days later, I dealt with all the enemies and became the demoness of Porton's elite circle. Five years later, the pier business expanded considerably. However, I kept the scar on my arm as a memento to remind me of him. It had been five years since he died, exactly five years. I bought a bottle of herbicide in an attempt to take my own life. Then, I saw the supposedly dead Christopher proposing to my best friend, Zoe Shaw. I saw all my underlings congratulate them. I froze for

The truth was that I welcomed the distraction. Because the alternative was thinking too carefully about the message Mara had delivered. Or worse. Thinking about what might happen tonight. The harbor facility sat on one of the oldest sections of the waterfront. Half the surrounding structures had been abandoned years ago. The area offered limited surveillance, multiple approaches, and enough concealed access routes to make security planning a nightmare. In other words, it was exactly the kind of place Cassandra Reed would choose. I stood near the windows while reviewing the updated schematics Mara had forwarded to my tablet. Every potential entry point had already been marked. Escape routes w

“They’ve been altered.” Olivia looked over his shoulder. “By erosion?” Marcus shook his head. “No.” “Deliberately.” He overlaid the maps. A hidden shape emerged beneath the false coastlines. Samuel stepped closer. “That’s not an island.” Marcus looked up. “It’s a harbor.” Gabriel’s face darkened. “The First Harbor.” Henry whispered, “I thought it had sunk.” ⸻ That evening, thick fog rolled across the sea. Visibility dropped to only a few meters.

The morning air was heavy with salt as Ethan’s car rolled into the harbor district. The docks stretched endlessly before him, cranes looming like metal sentinels over stacks of rusted shipping containers. It was a place that stank of diesel, sweat, and secrets—a perfect hiding ground for the illicit heart of Kane Veylor’s empire.

“This transmission bounced from the old customs tower near the north harbour." The north harbour. This area is a dead industrial zone that was abandoned years ago after the city rerouted major shipping lanes. This location is ideal for both a last stand and a hidden command centre. The medic at Ruin’s side looked up at me. “He should be moved to surgery now.” I looked at Ruin, pale but breathing, and the choice cut into me immediately. Stay with him, or finish the war. Ruin read it on my face. His fingers tightened weakly around my wrist. “End it.”