Page 53 of His Stolen Bride

“Vienna’s been quiet,” Yuri says carefully. “People thought maybe you were letting things breathe.”

I look at him. “Did I tell you that?”

“No.”

“Then you assumed,” I say. “That’s on you.”

A man near the window scoffs. “This sounds like paranoia.”

I turn my head slowly. “Say that again.”

He doesn’t.

Enzo steps forward and drops a phone on the table. It skids, screen lighting up with a message thread. Names are blurred, but the routes aren’t.

“Who do these belong to?” Enzo asks.

No one answers.

“That’s interesting,” I say. “Because I know.”

Gregor’s jaw tightens. “If this is about Kosov⁠—”

“It is,” I cut in. “And it isn’t.”

That gets their attention.

“He’s pushing,” Alexei says. “Everyone knows that.”

“He’s pushing because he thinks I won’t respond,” I reply. “And because someone here let him think that.”

A beat. Then Yuri says quietly, “What are you planning?”

I stand. The room stills.

“Vienna stays Morin,” I say. “Any route that moved without my clearance shuts down tonight. Anyone who argues gets audited. Anyone who resists gets treated as hostile.”

“That’s a war move,” someone says.

“Yes,” I answer. “It is.”

No one interrupts this time.

I let my gaze move around the table, slow and deliberate. “If you’re loyal, you’ll have no problems. If you’re compromised, you’ll know it by morning.”

Gregor swallows. “And Kosov?”

I smile without warmth. “He’ll hear about this. That’s the point.”

When the council breaks, no one lingers. Conversations are short. Phones come out the second the doors open. Enzo watches them leave and says nothing.

That night, my comms buzz once. Unknown channel, and clean encryption.

The real games have just begun, Morin.

I stare at the message for a long second, then delete it.

17