Chapter 12: Chapter 12: The First Move
The air in the penthouse was thick with silence. Ethan sat at the edge of his leather chair, eyes fixed on the name glowing on his laptop screen. Astrid Laurent.
The moment her name appeared, the game changed. Elias Harrington was a stepping stone. Astrid? She was the architect of the underworld.
Dominic let out a low whistle. "That's the woman people pretend doesn't exist."
Ethan closed the laptop. "She exists. And she's watching."
Dominic leaned forward. "So what's the play? We can't just waltz into her world and start making demands."
Ethan smirked. "We're not waltzing. We're crashing the damn party."
He picked up his phone and dialed a number.
After two rings, a smooth, controlled voice answered. "You finally called."
Ethan leaned back. "I need a favor."
A soft chuckle. "You don't ask for favors, Ethan. You make deals."
Ethan's grip on the phone tightened. "Then let's make one."
Silence. Then, "Meet me at The Vesper in one hour."
Click.
Dominic raised an eyebrow. "Who was that?"
Ethan grabbed his jacket. "The only man in this city who can get us an invitation into Astrid's world."
—
The club was drenched in wealth, where the elite gathered not to be seen, but to conduct business behind closed doors. Deals were made here, lives ruined, empires built.
Ethan and Dominic were led to a private lounge at the back.
Inside, a man sat comfortably on a leather couch, sipping bourbon.
Lorenzo Devereaux.
Billionaire. Power broker. A man who knew the city's secrets because he owned most of them.
Ethan didn't bother with pleasantries. "I need to meet Astrid."
Lorenzo smirked, setting his glass down. "And why would I arrange that?"
Ethan pulled out a small envelope and tossed it onto the table.
Lorenzo opened it, eyes scanning the contents.
His smirk vanished.
Ethan leaned in. "Because I know about the offshore accounts. I know about the missing funds. And I know Astrid will too… unless you make the introduction."
Lorenzo exhaled, his expression unreadable. Then he let out a quiet laugh. "You've got nerve, Cross."
He pulled out his phone and typed a message.
A moment later, he looked up. "Congratulations. You have a meeting."
Ethan smirked. "When?"
Lorenzo's eyes gleamed.
"Right now."
—
Ethan stepped out of the car, the grand estate looming before him like a fortress of shadows and power.
Dominic glanced at him. "You sure about this?"
Ethan adjusted his cufflinks. "We don't win by playing safe."
With that, he walked forward, past the waiting guards, past the gates.
Straight into the lion's den.