Page 125 of Shadow Waltz

“Troy, Dmitri, and four others,” Mason said finally. “But sir—there's more. The intelligence is too accurate, too specific. Someone is feeding them information faster than our people can move.”

The confirmation of what we'd suspected hit like a bullet to the chest, because it meant someone in our inner circle was actively coordinating our destruction. Not just someone who'd been turned or coerced, but someone who was choosing to betray us for reasons we couldn't yet understand.

“Who?” Luka asked, though his voice suggested he might already know the answer.

“Unknown. But the pattern suggests someone with access to real-time communications and movement schedules. Someone who knows where our people are going before they get there.”

After the call ended, we lay there in silence heavy enough to suffocate, processing the understanding that we couldn't trust anyone, couldn't rely on anyone, couldn't believe that any of the people we'd considered family were actually loyal to what we'd built together.

“It has to be someone close,” I said finally, voicing what we'd both realized. “Someone who's been with you long enough to have complete access, trusted enough that you don't question their intelligence.”

Luka was quiet for a long moment, and I could see him mentally reviewing every interaction, every decision, every moment of trust that might have been weaponized against us. When he spoke, his voice carried the kind of cold certainty that preceded systematic violence.

“Carina,” he said quietly. “It has to be Carina.”

The name hit like ice water in my veins, because Carina had been more than just second-in-command—she'd been mentor, ally, the closest thing to family either of us had in a world that destroyed such connections as weakness. The thought that she'd been feeding information to our enemies felt like discovering that gravity had stopped working.

“Why?” I asked, though part of me was already calculating the logic that would make her betrayal inevitable.

“Because she's the only one with complete access to our operational intelligence,” Luka replied, his voice carrying the kind of analytical calm that came from processing devastating conclusions. “Because she's been questioning my judgment about you since the day I bought you. Because she thinks our relationship makes us vulnerable to exactly the kind of coordinated attack we're facing.”

The pieces clicked together with horrible clarity, because I could see how Carina's protective instincts toward Luka might have been twisted into betrayal that she convinced herself was salvation. She'd probably told herself she was saving him from the weakness of caring about me, saving his empire from the vulnerability of emotional attachment.

“She's trying to protect you by destroying us,” I said, the understanding settling in my chest like poison.

“She's trying to protect the organization by eliminating what she sees as its greatest threat,” Luka corrected.

The secure phone buzzed again, and this time it was Carina herself, voice carrying the kind of professional calm that now sounded like prelude to execution.

“Sir,” she said, “I have intelligence about a potential extraction route. There's a window in approximately six hours when federal surveillance will be focused on the Brooklyn operations. If we move then, we might be able to get you both to international waters.”

I watched Luka's face as he processed what she was offering—escape, survival, the chance to rebuild somewhere beyond the reach of federal authorities. But I could also see him calculating the cost, understanding that accepting her help would mean trusting someone who'd already betrayed us once.

“What do you need from us?” he asked, playing along while I could see him mentally preparing for whatever trap she was setting.

“Just your location and preferred extraction method. I can coordinate everything else through secure channels.”

The offer was perfect, generous, exactly what we needed to hear in our current circumstances. Which was exactly why it felt like a noose disguised as a lifeline.

“I'll get back to you,” Luka said, ending the call before she could respond.

In the silence that followed, we both understood that our last hope of sanctuary had been revealed as another trap, that the person who should have been our salvation was actively coordinating our destruction. But we also understood that we finally knew who we were fighting, which meant we could start fighting back.

“What now?” I asked, though I suspected the answer would involve the kind of violence that left permanent stains on everything it touched.

“Now we remind Carina why loyalty isn't optional in my organization,” Luka replied. “And we show the federal task force what happens when they turn our own people against us.”

As we began planning our response to the betrayal that had cost us everything, I realized that some love stories could only be written in blood and fire, tested by forces that would destroy anything less than absolute commitment. Our fairy tale had ended, but our war was just beginning.

And looking at Luka as he transformed from lover back into the Prince who'd built an empire from nothing, I knew that whatever came next, we'd face it as partners in every sense that mattered.

The collar around my throat caught the light one more time, diamonds sparkling like captured stars in the underground darkness. It was still beautiful, still perfect, still worth whatever price we'd have to pay to keep it.

Some things were worth burning the world for.

And we were finally ready to light the match.

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