“You thief!”
Brian’s voice cracked through the polished air like shattering glass. Every single conversation that was ongoing stopped. Dozens of heads turned; cameras that had been idling for celebrity shots swung toward the commotion. Derick didn’t flinch. He stood where he was, one hand still in his pocket, Lily beside him like a quiet shadow. Brian’s shoes clicked sharply across the marble as he closed the distance. “You thought you could come here, after you stole from Reed? and hide behind whatever this new scheme is?” His voice was the perfect tone for the microphones already picking up whispers. People began to murmur. Someone near the staircase said softly, “Isn’t that Sekwiga the leech of a son-in-law? The one who got divorced?” Another voice answered, “What’s he even doing here? This conference is for power players.” “The nerve he has” some began laughing. Derick’s gaze stayed level, the faintest trace of boredom in his eyes. Petrina finally moved forward a step. Her silver suit gleamed under the chandelier light, but her expression was pure fire. “Of course he’s here,” she said, voice cold but trembling underneath. “Probably chasing another powerful woman like he always did.” The words sliced the air cleanly. A ripple ran through the crowd. Lily stiffened beside him. “Ridiculous,” she murmured under her breath, but Derick didn’t move. Petrina’s tone grew sharper, louder, feeding off the attention. “You cheated, Derick! You destroyed everything we built because you couldn’t stand seeing me succeed!” Someone gasped. Phones were out now; flashes went off. The murmurs became a low storm. Derick’s expression still didn’t change. His eyes stayed on her, calm, unreadable. Brian smiled thinly, enjoying every second. “Tell them,” he said to Petrina, “tell them how he drained Reed dry while pretending to be loyal. How you found out he was sleeping around.” “Stop,” Charlotte hissed somewhere behind them, but no one was listening. “Tell them how he’s now trying to sabotage your business, because he’s angry he can’t leech off it anymore!” Brian continued. The whispers kept growing. “He was poor, wasn’t he? Reed took him in.” “Imagine the nerve to show up here.” “These charity cases never know their place.” Lily’s jaw clenched. She leaned slightly toward him. “Say something,” she whispered. Derick’s reply was quiet, almost absent. “Let them finish.” He looked at Petrina as if she were a stranger describing a story that no longer belonged to him. Brian decided to give Derrick a once over and noticed his polished shoes, expensive suit, gold cufflinks and gold watch. His eyes went wide with envy and suspicion. “So you even steal from boutiques now right? How did you get all these clothes?!” He tried to grab Derrick’s suit to feel the expensive fabric but Lily swatted his hands away. It was at that moment they noticed her presence. “You!” Petrina seethed. “You were the one in the photos, the mistress. How do you feel knowing you enjoyed all my money huh?” Brian’s voice rose again. “You’ve embarrassed yourself enough, Sekwiga. Leave with your mistress before security drags you out.” A few people actually laughed, small, nervous sounds that carried too easily in the glossy space. Derick’s silence made it worse. Every second he refused to defend himself turned the crowd’s curiosity into judgment. Petrina’s breathing had grown uneven. The anger in her eyes was starting to mix with something else, confusion, maybe, or fear of what she didn’t yet understand. Lily finally stepped half a pace forward, her voice low but cutting through the noise. “You should all be careful,” she said. “The truth has a way of embarrassing those who shout the loudest.” Brian turned on her. “And who exactly are you to talk about the truth? You mistress.” Lily smiled slightly. “I’m simply someone you’ll remember.” Before Petrina could give a harsh clap back, a sound boomed from the overhead speakers, echoing through the hall. “Ladies and gentlemen,” a calm voice announced, “please proceed into the main auditorium. The conference is about to begin. Take your seats for a special address by Dankey Industries regarding their new strategic partner.” The murmurs froze mid-sentence. Charlotte blinked, realization dawning. Petrina turned slowly toward the source of the announcement. Lily’s eyes flicked up to Derick’s. “That’s our cue.” Brian gave a dismissive laugh. “A new partner? They can’t possibly withdraw from Reed holdings overnight? This has to be some kind of scam. Whoever that small fry company is, it’ll never be up to Reed.” Derick’s gaze drifted toward the massive glass doors leading into the auditorium. Through the transparent panels, he could already see the stage lights warming up, the press gathering in neat rows. He spoke for the first time since Brian’s outburst, his voice calm, steady, impossible to ignore. “Let’s go inside,” he said to Lily. When petrina heard it; her jaw tightened. Something about his composure unsettled her more than the accusations. The crowd began to move toward the doors. But the whispers didn’t stop, they only softened, folding into curiosity. Who was CrownLink? Why would Dankey partner with such a small unknown company? Derick adjusted his cufflink as they entered the hall. The chandeliers above dimmed to a soft gold, and the enormous screens at the front came alive with the conference logo. The announcer’s voice filled the space again: “We invite all attendees to take their seats as Dankey Industries formally welcomes you all to the 13th global conference summit, 2027.” There were a few rounds of applause before the announcer continued. “On tonight’s agenda, we would be announcing the new partner to Dankey enterprise….” A rush of movement. Reporters leaned forward, cameras ready. Petrina stopped mid-aisle, staring at the screen as the CrownLink emblem flared across it. Her hands went cold. Brian froze beside her, the color draining from his face. It was true, Dankey, her biggest supporter, supplier and partner had withdrawn from their partnership. She felt the world around her go still. Derick and Lily continued walking toward the front rows, calm, silent, the weight of the room shifting with each step. From the podium, the host’s voice rose one last time: “And now, before we begin the official signing ceremony, we would like to invite the CEO of CrownLink Holdings to join us on stage.” The room went perfectly still. All eyes scanned the auditorium, searching and waiting for a man or woman to stand, claiming to be the CEO of CrownLink. Derrick looked up at the stage, expression unreadable, and the faintest murmur spread through the crowd. “Could Mr. Cole please get on stage,” the announcer repeated. The audience had stopped trying to keep their peace as the suspense grew longer. Everyone wanted to know who Mr.Cole was and how he was able to pull the biggest deal of the century. For a heartbeat, no one moved. Derick’s footsteps echoed across the marble as he made his way toward the stage. The hall seemed to hold its breath, every whisper strangled by curiosity. Even the air-conditioning hummed quieter, as though the room itself was listening. Lily followed two steps behind, calm and efficient, tablet in hand. Her eyes flicked across the rows of stunned executives, journalists, and investors, faces pale beneath the glow of the chandelier light. At the far end of the aisle, the Dankey chairman adjusted his microphone, smiling nervously. “Ah—yes,” he said into it. “Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to present….the CEO of CrownLink Holdings.” The spotlight shifted, cutting a path of white through the air until it found him. Derrick. Murmurs rippled through the hall. Someone whispered, “Wait… isn’t that—” Another voice followed, “That’s Petrina Reed’s ex-husband.” The Dankey chairman gestured with open arms. “Mr. Cole—” Derick’s voice cut through gently but firmly. “It’s Sekwiga.” The name landed like thunder. A single beat of silence, then chaos. Flashes exploded from every direction. People half-stood from their seats, craning to see better. The whispering swelled into a roar, disbelief chasing recognition. Petrina was frozen in the middle row, one hand still clutching her clutch bag as if it anchored her to the ground. Her lips moved soundlessly. Brian beside her went pale, his smug grin collapsing under the weight of what he was seeing. Derick climbed the stairs, slow and steady, every step deliberate. On stage, he shook the chairman’s hand. Cameras clicked like machine gunfire. “Thank you,” Derick said into the microphone, voice calm, resonant. “It’s an honor to join forces with Dankey Industries for a partnership that will reshape the future of clean technology and innovation.” A smattering of applause began, hesitant and uncertain. Derick let it grow just enough before he continued. “CrownLink Holdings was built to restore integrity where it was once lost,” he said, each word measured. “We don’t seek attention—we seek results.” His eyes drifted briefly toward the crowd, landing directly on Petrina. For a fraction of a second, their gazes locked. Hers was wide with disbelief, then shame, then fury all tangled together. He didn’t smile. He didn’t blink. He simply held her stare long enough for her to understand that this….every move, every headline, wasn’t coincidence. It was designed. His design, and slowly but surely, he was going to take away everything she had ever built with his name and make her regret it.Latest Chapter
Victor Ashford
The Foundation black site sat buried deep within a mountain thirty kilometers from Davos. From the gravel road, it passed for a neglected ski lodge with boarded windows and rotting wood. Behind that shell lay a fortress of interrogation rooms.Julian Cross was slumped in a metal chair in the center of a windowless room, his wrists locked to a heavy table. A sling held his left arm tight against his chest while purple bruises darkened his jaw and cheek. A Foundation doctor had patched him up enough to talk, but the man was clearly holding back a scream with every breath he took.Derick walked in alone. He pulled out a chair and sat across from the prisoner.Cross looked up, his eyes like chips of ice. "Have you come here to gloat?""I came for information," Derick said. He kept his voice level and steady. "You are going to tell me what I need to know.""I am Ghost Protocol," Cross said with a dry, raspy voice. "We do not talk to people lik
The Davos Ambush
The main auditorium of the Davos Congress Centre was a sea of expensive suits and powerful faces. Three thousand people filled the rows. CEOs of Fortune 500 companies sat shoulder to shoulder with top government ministers and the heads of central banks. All around the place, journalists from every major news network adjusted their lenses and checked their feeds.Derick stood in the dim light behind the heavy stage curtains, waiting for his cue. He could hear his own breathing, steady and slow, while Jackson spoke directly into his ear through a tiny, hidden speaker."The facial recognition system is currently scanning every face in the building," Jackson said from the high-tech security room. "Our software is tracking how people move and how they shift in their seats. If anyone looks out of place or shows signs of a threat, we will see it before they even take a step.""How many people have we flagged?" Derick asked, his voice barely a whisper."W
Preparing the Trap
The following fourteen days vanished into a relentless cycle of logistics and tactical preparation. Jackson had transformed a secure hotel suite in Davos into a high-functioning command center. Digital displays lined the walls, casting a steady glow over personnel who had been working twenty-hour shifts to ensure every variable was controlled."Swiss intelligence has finalized their positions," Jackson said, his finger tracing the arteries of a digital map. "We have twenty-four officers stationed at every major entry and exit point of the town. No vehicle enters this valley without us knowing about it."Derick leaned over the map, his eyes scanning the terrain. "And what about our eyes inside the venue? Did Interpol come through?""Sixteen agents are already on the ground. They are fully integrated into the event staff. Some are carrying trays, others are checking press badges, and a few are working the security gates. If a single Ghost Protocol operative
Julian Cross
Later that night, back at the Foundation safe house, the air was thick with the smell of coffee. Jackson had spent twenty minutes on a secure phone with his old contacts in London. When he finally hung up, he looked at the group with a grim expression."Julian Cross is a real person," Jackson said. "My contacts found his file. He was one of the most decorated soldiers in British history. He has fifteen confirmed kills and did dozens of secret missions in Syria, Iraq, and Afghanistan."Jackson opened his laptop and turned the screen around. A photo appeared of a man in his early forties. He had short hair, and a sharp jawline"In 2009, Cross led a team into Syria to find a weapons factory," Jackson explained. "He killed eleven people during that raid. Three of them were children. He tried to claim they were armed, but the evidence showed he had murdered civilians."Charlotte stared at the photo. Her voice was full of anger. "He killed children?"
The Leak
The Foundation safe house stood as a lonely stone sentinel amidst the Scottish highlands. No neighbors lived within a twenty-mile radius, and the horizon remained unbroken by cell towers or the intrusion of internet signals.Derick arrived first, steering a rental car he had secured under a digital ghost of an identity. He had taken every possible precaution, leaving his primary phone in a drawer in New York, navigating three separate international flights with three different passports, and swapping vehicles twice during the final leg of the journey.Jackson followed shortly after, then Charlotte, Lily, and finally Marcus. Each member arrived via a distinct route. They eventually gathered in the main room, where the scent of burning peat filled the air and the fire crackled with a steady, rhythmic heat."Everyone sweep yourselves right now," Jackson said. He began distributing handheld detection devices to the group.They spent the next twenty minutes checking every seam of their clo
Compromised
Derick stared at the secure video screen showing Victoria Laurent's face. The Foundation technology specialist waited patiently for his decision."I need you to go deeper," Derick said. "Every corporation that benefited from Ghost Protocol assassinations. I want ownership structures, financial connections,and everything."Victoria hesitated. "Mr. Sekwiga, with respect, I work for Sebastian Dubois. He assigned me to help with pattern analysis, but expanding the investigation would require his authorization.""Then I'll get it from someone with equal authority," Derick replied. He switched to another line and called the one person he trusted least but needed most right now.The call connected. Victoria Laurent's face appeared on screen, but this was a different Victoria Laurent.Derick had to remind himself this wasn't Victoria. The Foundation had too many Laurents. This was someone else entirely. He'd been told her name but couldn't recall
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