Jasper stood there for a moment, allowing himself a single, controlled breath of satisfaction. Then he glanced toward the corridor where Sarah had disappeared. The concern returned, genuine and real, mixed with calculation in proportions only Jasper himself could measure.She mattered to him. He could not deny that. Watching her walk into a room full of powerful men without him beside her made something uncomfortable twist in his chest. But this meeting with Harmon could change everything.It could rebuild Sterling Group's standing, repair his own reputation, and cement his position in the company permanently. If he secured a partnership with Harmon Defence, Sarah would never question him again.He looked toward Sarah's corridor one more time. Then he looked toward the east wing staircase.After a brief hesitation, Jasper turned and followed the path toward Viktor Harmon.Sarah mattered. But this opportunity mattered too much to throw away.Meanwhile, Sarah stepped through a set of he

The accusation spread through the room like poison in water. Heads turned. Whispers multiplied. Faces that had been neutral moments ago now carried suspicion and contempt.A heavyset businessman in an Italian silk suit laughed openly. The sound was ugly and deliberate. "How does a company that cannot even produce a functioning rifle still have the confidence to attend an international arms exhibition? Sterling Group should have stayed home and saved everyone the embarrassment."Another executive, younger, sharper, with a German accent and a smirk that looked permanently attached to his face, added his voice to the pile. "Perhaps Sterling Group came here tonight not to sell weapons but to make sure nobody else can sell theirs either. When you cannot build, you destroy. That seems to be their specialty now.""It is like watching a wounded dog snap at everything that moves." A French procurement officer shook his head with theatrical disappointment. "Dangerous, desperate, and completely

Armed security personnel sealed every entrance to the restricted demonstration area within ninety seconds of the lockdown order. Men in black tactical vests positioned themselves at doorways, corridor junctions, and emergency exits with their weapons visible and their expressions communicating a single message. Nobody leaves.Sarah stood near the center of the room surrounded by chaos that had shifted from angry to frightened in the span of a heartbeat. The vehicle malfunction, the accusations, the shoving, all of it now felt small compared to whatever had caused a senior military officer to lock down an international exhibition with a single encrypted message."Mrs. Sterling." A uniformed investigator appeared at her elbow. "We need you to come with us for questioning. All major delegates whose companies are currently under military review are being interviewed as a precaution.""Under military review?" Sarah stared at him. "Sterling Group's contract was terminated. We are not under

His words were protective, genuine, delivered with the conviction of a man who cared about the woman standing behind him. And they were. Jasper did care. Watching Sarah being surrounded by hostile officials, accused of crimes she did not commit, humiliated in front of the most powerful people in the industry, it made something in his chest twist painfully.But even as he spoke, his left hand moved casually to his jacket pocket. Inside that pocket was a slim flash drive containing correspondence and financial records from meetings he had conducted privately throughout the evening. Records that connected him to Viktor Harmon's organization. Records that, if discovered by an investigator as thorough as Mara Veyne, would raise questions he could not answer.His fingers closed around the drive and quietly transferred it to the inner lining of his jacket where it would not be found during a standard search.Protecting Sarah was real. But protecting himself came first.Mara studied Jasper fo

The gunfire came from the restricted corridor in three short, controlled bursts. Not panicked. Not random. The precise, disciplined rhythm of trained professionals executing a plan they had rehearsed until it lived inside their muscle memory.The sound tore through the darkness and turned the exhibition hall into something out of a war zone."Get down! Everyone get down now!" A security officer grabbed a delegate by the collar and threw him behind an overturned display table. Two more guards rushed forward toward the corridor entrance, their flashlight beams cutting through the smoke that was already pouring through the shattered doors.They made it six steps before the next volley drove them back. Bullets chewed into the concrete walls above their heads, sending showers of dust and fragments raining down on anyone foolish enough to be standing.These were not ordinary criminals. Their movements were coordinated to the second. They advanced in pairs, covering each other's angles, swee