Even from behind, the posture is unmistakable. When he turns slightly toward the camera, my stomach drops.
Charles Deveraux.
My family’s former financial advisor.
The man who vanished after embezzling millions.
The man my father swore had been dealt with.
The man we all assumed was dead.
My blood turns to ice.
“He worked for us,” I breathe.
Both Dimitri and Sylvester whip around.
Sylvester’s eyes widen; Dimitri’s narrow dangerously, the muscles in his jaw flexing once—hard.
“You know him?” Dmitri demands, stepping toward me.
I nod, throat tight. “He handled the Laurent offshore accounts for years. He disappeared after stealing a ridiculous amount of money. Everyone assumed he was dead.”
Dimitri’s expression hardens—colder than I’ve ever seen it. “He also worked for me.”
I stare at him. “What?”
“He managed some of my early clean ventures,” he says, voice like steel scraping. “Before I learned he was siphoning money behind my back.”
Sylvester swears under his breath. The truth hits all three of us at once. Charles Deveraux didn’t betray one family. He betrayed both. He played the Laurents and the Rusnaks. He used their names, their legitimacy, their money. And now he’s using their identities to funnel funds straight into the Koval war machine.
The room tilts.
My world—built on wealth, legacy, and the illusion of security—suddenly feels like a gilded cage of lies.
Sylvester clears his throat, voice low but steady. “What are we going to do?”
Dimitri doesn’t hesitate.
“We move fast,” he says, stepping closer to the screen, eyes locked on Deveraux’s frozen face. “Since our press conference drew them out last time, we’ll do another.”
Sylvester blinks. “Another one?”
Dimitri nods, jaw set in that lethal, unshakable way of his. “It’s clear Charles likes to act when there’s enough noise to hide behind. He thrives in chaos. Fine. We give him chaos.”
I watch him. He’s calculating, cold, but with a burn underneath it that’s almost frightening.
He continues, voice like steel.
“This time, I’ll make it appear as if I’m scared and seeking protection publicly. Enough for Deveraux to think he’s won. He’ll step forward—show his hand—because he won’t be able to resist the spotlight.”
The strategy hits me like a rush of adrenaline and dread.
Dimitri is baiting him. Using himself as the lure.
Sylvester exhales, eyebrows rising. “It’s a nice plan. Dangerous, but clean.”
Dimitri turns to him. “Send out a notification for the press conference at noon. Make it loud. Make it impossible for him to ignore.”
