My Revenge Begins With a Divorce

Chapter 8: The Ghost Fleet

"Tell him I hope he likes the smell of ash. Because I’m coming for his throne, and I’m bringing hell with me."

The words hung in the frigid, rain-lashed air of the park long after the silver helicopter had vanished into the thunderclouds. Leon Ardent stood motionless, the mud seeping into his thousand-dollar shoes, his gaze fixed on the empty sky.

"The tracking signal from Sarah’s dress is dead, My Lord," Elena said, her voice shaking as she stepped out of the sedan. "They must have scanned her for bugs the second she crossed the threshold of that chopper."

"It doesn't matter," Leon said. His voice was a low, terrifying hum. "We don't need a tracker to find a war."

"Sir, the European High Council has already issued a no-fly zone over the Atlantic for all non-scheduled Syndicate flights," Albert reported, his eyes glued to his tablet. "Marcus moved faster than we anticipated. He’s locking the gates before we can even leave the driveway."

"Then we don't fly," Leon said, finally turning around. His eyes were no longer those of the husband Sarah had mocked. They were the eyes of a predator who had just been released from a cage. "Albert, activate the Deep-Sea Protocol."

Albert’s hands froze over the screen. "The Deep-Sea Protocol? Sir, that fleet hasn't been surfaced since your father’s passing. The maintenance costs alone—"

"I didn't spend three years scrubbing floors to worry about maintenance costs, Albert. Surface the Ghost Fleet. Now."

"Understood, Young Master."

"Elena," Leon barked.

"Yes, My Lord?"

"You are no longer just a lawyer. As of this moment, you are the Acting Regent of the Ardent Northwood assets. I am leaving you with the keys to the city’s treasury. If anyone from the Four Families so much as whispers a word of dissent while I’m gone, I want their names erased from the census."

Elena’s heart hammered against her ribs. "You’re leaving? Alone?"

"I’m going to reclaim what belongs to me," Leon said, walking toward the car. "And that includes the woman who thinks she can be a princess on my uncle’s charity."

The drive back to the estate was a blur of high-speed turns and encrypted phone calls. By the time they reached the Sovereign Estate, the quiet luxury of the mansion had been replaced by the frantic energy of a war room. Tactical maps of Europe were projected onto the walls, and the air was thick with the smell of ozone from the servers.

"Report," Leon commanded as he stepped into the center of the room.

"Marcus has landed in Monaco," a tactical officer announced. "Sarah Miller—or Sarah Ardent, as they are now calling her—is being held in the Azure Fortress. The Council has already drafted a petition to recognize her as the primary heir."

"They’re moving that fast?" Elena asked, leaning over the console. "The ink on the divorce isn't even dry."

"Marcus doesn't care about ink. He cares about blood," Leon said. "He knows that as long as Sarah is alive and 'betrayed' by me, he has the moral high ground to seize the Syndicate’s core treasury."

"And what about the world’s reaction?" Elena asked.

"The world loves a tragedy," Leon sneered. "A beautiful woman ruined by a cruel tyrant? The media will eat it up. By tomorrow morning, I’ll be the most hated man on the planet."

"Which plays right into Marcus’s hands," Albert noted. "He’ll use public opinion to justify a 'peacekeeping' mission into your territories."

Leon looked at the map of Monaco. "He thinks he can hide behind the public and a fortress. He forgot who designed the security for the Azure Fortress."

"You did?" Elena asked.

"My father did," Leon corrected. "And he left me the back door keys."

Suddenly, the room’s main screen flickered. A video feed began to play, broadcasted on every major news network across the globe. It was Sarah.

She was no longer in the cheap red dress. She was draped in white silk, her hair perfectly styled, sitting in a gilded chair. But her eyes were still glazed, a haunting mixture of trauma and newfound power. Marcus Ardent stood behind her, his hand resting patronizingly on her shoulder.

"People of the Syndicate," Marcus’s voice boomed through the speakers. "Today, we welcome home a daughter of the true blood. Sarah Ardent has suffered at the hands of a man who values power over family. Leon Ardent has proven himself unfit to lead. We ask for your patience as we prepare for a transition of power."

Sarah looked into the camera. For a split second, the manic lucidity returned to her eyes. "Leon," she whispered, her voice amplified across the world. "You told me I’d be a prisoner. But look at me now. I have a crown. What do you have?"

The feed cut to black.

Leon’s grip on the edge of the obsidian table tightened until the stone began to crack.

"She’s a puppet," Elena hissed. "Can't she see he’s going to discard her the moment he has the codes?"

"She sees what she wants to see," Leon said. "She wants to be the one on top. She doesn't care if the ladder is made of corpses."

"Sir," Albert interrupted, his voice urgent. "The Ghost Fleet has surfaced. They are waiting at the coordinates in the North Atlantic."

"Excellent. Prepare my transport."

"Leon, wait," Elena said, grabbing his arm. "If you go there now, you’re walking into a trap. Marcus wants you to attack. He wants you to look like the aggressor."

"I am the aggressor, Elena," Leon said, turning to her. He reached out, his thumb grazing the Heart of the Abyss necklace she still wore. "For three years, I played the victim. I played the servant. I played the husband. That man is dead. The Sovereign doesn't wait for permission to take what is his."

"Then take me with you," she pleaded.

"No. I need someone I trust to hold the line here. If I fall, you are the only one who can keep the Northwood treasury out of Marcus’s reach. Do you understand?"

Elena’s eyes welled with tears, but she nodded. "I understand. But Leon?"

"Yes?"

"Don't kill her because you’re angry. Kill her only if you have to. Because if you kill his 'tragic princess', you’ll never get the Syndicate back."

"I’m not going to kill her, Elena," Leon said, a chilling smile appearing on his face. "I’m going to show her that a gold cage is still a cage. And then, I’m going to melt the gold."

Leon walked out of the command center and onto the helipad, where a sleek, matte-black stealth transport was waiting. As the rotors began to spin, the wind whipped his hair, but he didn't flinch.

He climbed into the cockpit and strapped himself in. Albert was already in the co-pilot seat, his fingers flying across a military-grade laptop.

"ETA to the fleet?" Leon asked.

"Forty minutes, sir. We’ll refuel in mid-air and dive before the European satellites can lock our heat signature."

"Good. Launch."

The transport lifted off, banking sharply over the ruins of the Miller Group building. As they climbed into the dark, stormy sky, Leon looked down at the city one last time. It looked like a graveyard from this height.

"Sir," Albert said, his voice echoing in Leon’s headset. "I’ve just received a message on a private frequency. It’s from inside the Azure Fortress."

"From who? One of our spies?"

"No, sir," Albert said, his voice trembling slightly. "The encryption is old. Very old. It’s a code only used by the Sovereign’s inner circle."

Leon’s brow furrowed. "That circle is dead, Albert. My father’s men were purged twenty years ago."

"Apparently not all of them, sir. The message is only three words."

"Read it."

Albert swallowed hard. "It says: 'The bird is bait'."

Leon’s eyes widened. He grabbed the controls, his knuckles turning white. "The bird is bait? He’s talking about Sarah."

"It means Marcus isn't using her to get the codes, sir," Albert realized. "He’s using her to draw you into a specific location."

Suddenly, the transport’s radar began to scream. A dozen red dots appeared on the screen, coming from the direction of the Atlantic.

"Missile lock!" Albert yelled. "Multiple signatures! They’re not from Marcus, sir! These are Ardent main-branch signatures!"

"Evasive maneuvers!" Leon roared, diving the transport toward the ocean. "They’re trying to shoot us down before we even reach the fleet!"

"Sir, we can't shake them! There’s too many!"

Leon looked at the screen, then at the dark water rushing up to meet them. He realized then that Marcus wasn't the only one who wanted him dead. The entire Ardent family had finally decided to end the line of the Sovereign.

"Albert, jettison the fuel pods!" Leon commanded. "We’re going to hit the water!"

"We’ll be crushed, sir!"

"Just do it!"

The transport hit the waves with a bone-shattering impact. Darkness swallowed the cockpit as water began to pour in. Leon struggled against his harness, the sound of the ocean roaring in his ears.

As he drifted toward unconsciousness, a single thought echoed in his mind.

The bird is bait. And I just bit the hook.

Far away, in the Azure Fortress, Sarah stood on a balcony overlooking the Mediterranean. She held a glass of wine, her eyes fixed on the horizon where a faint explosion had just lit up the sky.

"Did you find him?" she asked, her voice devoid of emotion.

Marcus stepped out from the shadows, a phone in his hand. "The transport was hit, Sarah. He’s gone."

Sarah didn't cry. She didn't scream. She simply took a sip of her wine and looked at the silver coin Leon had given her, which she now kept in a velvet box.

"Good," she whispered. "Now, show me how to use the crown."

But beneath the balcony, deep in the dark waters where no light reached, a series of massive, mechanical eyes began to glow. The Ghost Fleet was rising. And they weren't alone.

A hand punched through the glass of the submerged cockpit, a silver ring with a dragon crest gleaming in the dark.