"It happened during the chat," Ivan explains, typing furiously. "When the 'Dad' window popped up, it wasn't just a message. It was a Trojan Horse. While she was staring at her father's words, a background script was scraping the schedule."
"They don't have the encryption key," Ivan adds, pointing to my pocket where the tablet is. "They can't open the containers, but they know where the ship is."
"They don't need to open them," I say, my voice low. "They only need to sink or hijack it."
Moretti isn't trying to steal my weapons. He’s trying to bleed me. He knows those missiles aren't merchandise. They’re the hammer I need to crush him. If I lose that shipment, I lose the war before I can fire a single shot. And the throne.
"Change the route," I order.
"I can't," Ivan says. "The manifest is already logged with the Port Authority. If we pull the ship from the schedule now, it triggers an automatic audit. We’re locked in."
I run a hand over my face. The rage is a physical weight in my chest.
Arthur Blackwood. That fool. He didn't just sell his daughter; he turned a smuggling run into a naval war.
"Where is she?" I ask Lev.
"In the library," he answers. "She refused to stay in the room. She said she’d burn the place down if I locked her in."
I turn and march toward the double oak doors at the end of the hall.
"Boss," Lev warns. "She’s upset."
I ignore him and kick the library doors open.
Helena is standing by the fireplace. She has wrapped her arms around herself, still wearing the clothes from the office, barefoot.
She spins around when I enter. Her attention locks on the blood on my shirt.
"Is it true?" she asks. Her voice is shaking, but her chin is high.
"Is what true?" I walk over to the decanter on the sideboard to pour another drink, needing the burn.
"That my father is gone," she says. "That he... that he gave them the key."
"He sold you," I say. "He traded the Founder's Key for a promise of safety. He gave Moretti the keys to your kingdom."
"Why?" she whispers.
"Because he’s a coward."
"No," she steps toward me. "It's not that. It's not just business with you, is it?"
I turn to look at her. "Everything is business."
"Liar," she snaps. "I saw your face in the office. I saw how you looked when you talked about him. You don't just want his company. You want him dead. You want him to suffer."
She closes the distance between us. Desperation has made her reckless. Stupid.
"This is personal," she says, poking me in the chest. "You didn't target Blackwood Shipping because it was a good asset. You targeted it because it was his."
I catch her hand before she can poke me again, gripping her wrist, hard.
"Careful."
"Tell me!" she demands, wrenching against my grip. "If I’m going to be your prisoner, if I’m going to be collateral in this war, I deserve to know why. What did he do to you?"
"He took everything," I sneer. The sound echoes off the high ceilings.
