Fractured Loyalties
Marcus Knight stared at the glass of whiskey in his hand, the amber liquid catching faint light from the chandelier above. Around him, Victor's penthouse looked like luxury had swallowed reason — gold trims, marble floors, and silence thick enough to drown in.
But Marcus didn't feel like a man living in luxury. He felt like a ghost wearing someone else's name.
Across the room, Victor poured himself another drink. "You're quiet tonight," he said casually, not looking up.
Marcus's jaw tightened. "You've made me a criminal against my own blood, Victor. What do you expect me to say?"
Victor smiled faintly. "Ah, family. Always the complication."
"You said Ethan destroyed my mother's life." Marcus's voice was low, simmering. "You said he took everything she had—"
"And he did," Victor interrupted, turning. "Or rather, his father did. Ethan merely inherited the crown of guilt. Don't tell me you've grown sentimental now."
Marcus rose slowly from the couch. "I've grown suspicious."
That made Victor's smile deepen. "Good. Suspicion keeps you alive."
For a moment, neither spoke. The air pulsed between them — mentor and weapon, the line blurring by the second.
Marcus finally said, "You told me the white rose would be enough."
Victor swirled his drink. "It was. He's on edge. Which means he'll make mistakes."
"And Mia?"
Victor's eyes flicked up — sharp, almost amused. "She was never the goal. Collateral interest, perhaps. You're thinking too small, Marcus. The war isn't about one woman or one company. It's about rewriting who controls power in this city."
Marcus stepped closer. "And if you lose?"
Victor's smile never wavered. "I don't lose. I replace."
A chill ran through Marcus. He turned toward the window, watching the city spread below like a living thing. Neon. Smoke. Pulse. All of it under Victor's thumb — for now.
But deep down, beneath the anger Victor had carefully cultivated in him, Marcus felt something else — an ache. A flicker of doubt.
He remembered Eleanor's kindness, her voice when she'd spoken to him years ago, not knowing he was her husband's bastard. "You don't have to carry someone else's sins," she'd said.
And Ethan… the man Marcus was supposed to hate, the man who had once shielded him from press scandals when their father's will came out.
What if Victor had lied?
He didn't notice Victor watching him until the older man spoke again, softly. "You're not thinking of switching sides, are you?"
Marcus turned. "You think I'm stupid enough to tell you if I was?"
Victor chuckled. "No, Marcus. You're not stupid. You're dangerous. That's why I keep you close."
"Close enough to control," Marcus murmured.
"Close enough to destroy if you disobey," Victor corrected, his voice suddenly cold.
Marcus's hand twitched toward his glass, but he set it down instead. He'd seen what Victor did to those who crossed him — men who disappeared, names erased from the system like they'd never existed.
"Relax," Victor said, smiling again. "I'm not your enemy."
Marcus gave a thin smile. "No. You're just everyone else's."
The tension lingered as Victor's phone buzzed. He answered, his tone immediately shifting. "Yes. Proceed. Make sure the delivery reaches Blackwood Mansion before dawn."
He ended the call and turned to Marcus. "Get some rest. Tomorrow, everything changes."
Marcus nodded, but his gut twisted.
Because for the first time since this began, he wasn't sure whose side he was really on.
As he walked out, he passed by Victor's desk — and there, among the scattered papers, he caught a glimpse of a photo.
Clara.
Her smile was faint, her face circled in red ink.
Marcus froze. "Why her?"
Victor didn't answer immediately. When he finally did, his voice was silk over poison. "Because she's Ethan's weakness."
Marcus didn't move, but inside, something cracked.
Later that night, when he stood in his car staring at the rain, he whispered to himself, "Then maybe it's time his weakness had someone watching her back."
He started the engine — and turned the car in the opposite direction of Victor's order.
But what he didn't see was the red light blinking beneath his dashboard — a tracker Victor had installed days ago.
By morning, Ethan would know Marcus had come near the mansion.
And Victor would know Marcus had betrayed him.
The trap was already closing.