Page 48 of Knuckles & Knives
Of course he already knows that. Of course he’s been watching for years.
“Their territorial control depends on agreements with smaller organizations that can be turned.”
I tilt my head. “Meaning bribes? Threats?”
“Leverage. We know three of the smaller syndicates have active disputes with Sterling enforcers. I’ve compiled dossiers on each one, including family members, legal vulnerabilities, and vices. We don’t need to buy their loyalty—just make cooperation with you the path of least resistance.”
I nod slowly, a pulse beginning to build in my chest. Power. It’s all here—mapped, measured, ready.
“And finally, their leadership is now fractured due to Kieran’s defection and the questions it’s raised about Sterling family unity.”
“So we create more fractures,” I say, catching on. “Make them implode from the inside.”
“Exactly. We manufacture uncertainty. Target their weak links. We don’t fight them head-on. We become the storm they can’t predict.”
I glance up at him. “Marcus, how long have you been planning this?”
“Since the day I confirmed your identity.”
Oh. He didn’t wait for me to prove myself. He saw me as inevitable.
Marcus moves to stand beside me, close enough that I can smell his expensive cologne mixed with the faint scent of leather and metal that always clings to him. “Everything we’ve done—the alliance with Dom, the recruitment of Axel, even Kieran’s defection—has been building toward this moment.”
My breath catches. “You orchestrated all of it?”
“Orchestrated suggests I forced outcomes that wouldn’t have occurred naturally.” He meets my gaze. “I simply created circumstances that would allow existing attractions and loyalties to develop into something useful.”
I pull back slightly. “Useful,” I repeat, testing the weight of the word.
“Dom was already drawn to you from your previous history. Axel had been carrying feelings for years. Kieran was primed for rebellion against his family’s expectations. I did find proof that he purchased an engagement ring shortly before your father was killed.”
My chest tightens. “You were playing with all of us like puzzle pieces.”
“No. I was betting on you.” His voice is steady, but there’s heat behind it now. “I knew if I could help you reclaim your place, you’d change everything, and I wanted to be the one who made that possible.”
My hands curl into fists, not from anger but from the terrifying realization that Marcus has always seen the big picture… and me at the center of it.
I suppress the urge to cover my mouth with my hand. “You just… nudged us all into place?”
“I created opportunities for truth to surface and connections to deepen. The feelings themselves were always genuine.” He pauses, his gaze intense on mine. “Including my own.”
Marcus, the master manipulator, the man who treats human emotions like chess pieces to be moved around the board, has just admitted to having genuine feelings that weren’t part of his grand strategy.
“Marcus…”
“The plan requires discussion, not personal analysis.” But even as he says it, he’s moving closer, close enough that I can see the way his pulse beats at the base of his throat. “The Sterling Syndicate has three primary vulnerabilities that we can exploit simultaneously.”
He presses another series of keys, and the display shifts to show what looks like a multi-pronged attack strategy, but I’m having trouble focusing on the tactical details when Marcus is standing close enough to touch, his usually perfect control showing hairline cracks.
“Their financial infrastructure relies heavily on offshore accounts that can be disrupted,” he continues, his voice taking on the lecturing tone he uses when he’s trying to distance himself from emotion. “Their territorial control depends on agreements with smaller organizations that can be turned, and their leadership is now fractured.”
“It’s brilliant,” I admit, studying the intricate web of cause and effect he’s mapped out. “But, Marcus, why does this feel like you’re saying goodbye?”
His hands freeze over the keyboard. For a moment, his careful mask slips completely, and I see something raw and vulnerable in his expression.
“Because once this plan is implemented, once you’re established as the undisputed power in this city, you won’t need a strategist anymore.” His voice is quiet, almost uncertain in a way I’ve never heard from him before. “You’ll need advisors, lieutenants, enforcers. But the work I do—the manipulation, the long-term planning, the morally gray decisions that keep your hands clean—that becomes a liability for a legitimate ruler.”
The pieces click into place with painful clarity. “You think I’ll discard you once I have what I want.”
