The Smoke Before the Fire

Richard Lansing stared out the towering window of his penthouse office. The skyline shimmered beneath him, but his mind was already at war. The hospice ambush had shaken his circle. His most trusted men, slaughtered. His surveillance wiped clean. And worst of all—Marianne had been touched.

By whom, he didn't yet know.

But he had guesses.

He crushed the porcelain coffee cup in his hand. Blood trickled down his palm, unnoticed.

"Get me General Tarek," he said to the aide in the room. "Now."

"Sir, are you sure? That will bring global eyes—"

"Then let them watch."

---

By nightfall, planes moved quietly across borders. Private, unmarked, and silent as ghosts. By dawn, operatives walked city streets in tailored suits, their smiles hiding weapons and orders signed in blood.

It began subtly.

One of Gina's offshore accounts—frozen.

A key lieutenant of Houna's—found dead in his car with no signs of struggle.

Two of Nuel's safehouses—raided and burnt.

Davina's school records—leaked anonymously online.

Richard never struck with noise. He preferred corrosion—slow, systematic destruction.

And while the world sipped morning coffee, Gina Michaels's empire began to bleed.

---

At the estate, Gina received the reports in waves.

One page.

Then another.

And another.

She didn't flinch. Her fingers only tightened slightly around the folder.

"They've moved to destabilize you," Houna said, reading over her shoulder.

"Richard's calling my bluff."

"No. He's showing you that he knows you're holding cards."

Gina exhaled, slowly. "Then it's time to move the table."

She turned to her digital board and began drawing lines—new alliances, tactical retreats, hidden resources.

"I want Davina pulled from the house. Quietly. Get her somewhere he can't trace."

Houna nodded. "Already arranged."

"And Nuel?"

"He's underground. But he's watching. Always watching."

---

In a mirrored bar across the city, Nuel read the headline on the encrypted tablet:

"Business Heiress Gina Michaels Under Investigation for Financial Fraud"

He smirked. "You really want to play this publicly, old man?"

He closed the tablet and turned to his associate.

"Leak the real story. The files from Geneva."

"They'll trace it to us."

"Good. Let them come."

---

Across town, Richard received the counterblow. A file sent to every major press network.

> "Lansing Enterprises Linked to International Money Laundering Scheme."

His hand trembled.

"What the hell is this?" he barked.

"An internal breach. Someone's connected the Geneva accounts to your name."

"Find them. I want a name by tonight."

But he already had a name in mind.

Gina.

And maybe… Dave.

He pulled out an old photo. His son, aged seven, sitting beside Marianne on a summer lawn. The only person he had ever feared losing.

"You still love her," he murmured to himself. "Even in your silence."

And now, she was alive.

Back in the world.

He turned to his aide.

"Release the failsafe."

"Sir?"

"If she's alive, she becomes leverage. And if Gina wants her safe…"

He smiled darkly.

"She'll crawl."