Page 7 of Until the Ink runs Crimson

My office is quiet, save for the soft rustle of papers and the distant buzz of the city far below. Documents and blood-stained ledgers stretch across the carved oak table, its edges engraved with the crests of every syndicate family that’s ever mattered. This is where power breathes and bloodlines are weaponized.

I'm sitting at the head of the table, my hands steepled beneath my chin. My gaze is fixed on the crimson-sealed De Corsi contract laid bare before us—a silent declaration of war disguised as parchment.

"If the De Corsi get wind that she’s here," Lucrezia says, her voice cool and even behind her designer glasses, "they’ll invoke the blood vow. Publicly. They’ll force it through Syndicate Council and parade her like a conquest."

Riven leans back in his chair, arms crossed. "It’s not just about honor anymore. They’ll use her to consolidate old alliances and pull half the Eastern territories under their banner. That’s power, not tradition."

"And if they succeed," Lucrezia adds, "they’ll realign the council’s balance of power. The De Corsis have been looking for an excuse to reestablish dominance for years. This would give them that."

I rub my temple, trying to think of every possible thing that could go wrong. "Then we strike first. I have her now—and she’ll be mine soon."

Lucrezia raises a perfectly sculpted brow. "You’ve never faked a vow before. How exactly do you plan to make that happen?"

"We get engaged," I say simply, voice steady.

Lucrezia chuckles under her breath. "Engaged? There’s no way that girl is going to agree to that. I brought her breakfast this morning—she’s feisty. Wild. You think she’ll just smile for the cameras and play house with you?"

"She doesn’t have a choice," I say flatly. "I know her weakness."

Riven’s eyes flick toward me. "What weakness?"

"Her brother," I say. "Noel Rourke. He’s the only leverage I need."

Lucrezia and Riven exchange looks. Although both of them stay quiet, I see the judgment in their eyes. They think I’m a steel hearted bastard, and maybe I am. But I didn’t claw my way to the top of this empire with sentiment. Kindness is a myth in this world. Fear? That’s the currency. And I spend it well.

"When will the engagement be announced?" Riven asks, glancing toward the document.

"Soon," I say. "We’ll give the De Corsis just enough time to start planning their next move, and then we’ll cut them off at the knees. Make it public, make it loud. Let them choke on it."

Lucrezia nods thoughtfully. "I’ll time the press release to hit just before the next council summit. That way, they’ll be caught off guard and forced to react under pressure."

"Good," I say, tapping the edge of the table. "Get the documents in order. And Riven, I want security tightened around here. Make sure the guards stationed outside her room are the best we have—no mistakes, no gaps. You've already linked the cameras in her suite to my system, right?"

"Yeah," Riven nods. "You can access everything through the application. And like you asked—you're the only one with clearance."

I give a brief nod and open my laptop. The application sits on my desktop, waiting. A click, and eight tiny screens come to life, each one showing a different angle of Calista’s room. She's by the window, arms folded, her profile caught in the pale daylight. She looks calm—but I know better. It's been two days since she has been here, and all she's done is stare out the window. I know she's planning something. Or at least trying to.

Riven speaks again, quieter this time. "Are you sure about this? Playing the engagement card this early?"

"It’s not a card, it’s leverage," I reply, looking up from the screen. "She was promised to them. Stealing their claim undermines their legacy—it’s more than a woman. It’s a message."

"You don’t care for the girl," Lucrezia says simply, probing.

"Who have I ever cared about before? She's just a pawn."

"Just make sure she plays her part," Lucrezia says. "The Syndicate won’t believe you unless she’s wearing your ring—and acting like it."

"She’ll wear it," I say without blinking. "We’ll draft the engagement announcement—public, binding, official.”

Riven watches me from the far corner, arms folded. "You really think this move won’t backfire?"

"If it does, it won’t be because I hesitated."

XXX

I head toward Calista’s room. There’s no hesitation in me. I know exactly what this will do to her. I’ve studied her—her escape from the De Corsi, her shattered promises, her broken engagement, and the girl she used to be. The girl they ruined. If I had a heart, maybe I’d feel sorry for her.

But I don’t. I never have. And I won’t start now.

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