VEIL OF DECEPTION

The city never slept, and neither did Ethan.

As the car glided through the empty streets, neon signs flickering against the rain-slick asphalt, he leaned back in the leather seat, his mind sharpening like a blade. Lucas Vanderbilt was finished, but that was only the first move. The real war had just begun.

His phone vibrated again. Another message from the unknown number.

Unknown Number: "Vanderbilt was a pawn. The real players are watching now. Don't get too comfortable."

Ethan smirked, exhaling slowly. Good. Let them watch.

He typed a response.

Ethan: "Let them. But tell them this—I don't play games. I end them."

A second later, three dots appeared, then disappeared. No response. Whoever it was, they had nothing to say. For now.

His car pulled up to The Azure Tower, a 60-story skyscraper in the heart of the financial district. Ethan stepped out, adjusting the cuffs of his tailored suit. The doorman recognized him instantly, stepping aside with a respectful nod. Just weeks ago, no one would have given him a second glance. Now, the air around him had changed. He was someone.

Inside, the penthouse was dark except for the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. The skyline stretched endlessly, but Ethan had no time to admire it. Dominic Vale was already waiting for him, standing by the bar with a glass of whiskey in hand.

"You made quite a scene tonight," Dominic said, swirling the drink. His sharp silver eyes locked onto Ethan. "Lucas never saw it coming."

Ethan loosened his tie, grabbing the drink Dominic poured for him. "He was careless." He took a sip, letting the burn settle. "People like him get comfortable. They forget that power is never permanent."

Dominic's smile was knowing. "And what about you? Are you ready for what's next?"

Ethan met his gaze. "I didn't come this far to stop."

Dominic chuckled, setting his glass down. "Good. Because taking down Lucas only rattled the board. But if you want to own the game, you have to move faster than your enemies."

Ethan leaned forward, his voice low. "Who's next?"

Dominic slid a black folder across the marble countertop. Ethan flipped it open.

Elias Harrington.

The name alone carried weight. Elias wasn't just rich—he was untouchable. A media mogul who controlled everything from broadcasting stations to social media empires. One word from him, and someone's entire existence could be erased.

"He's the one who tipped off the authorities about your father," Dominic said, watching Ethan's reaction closely. "And he was paid well for it."

Ethan's jaw clenched. "Who paid him?"

Dominic exhaled slowly. "The Syndicate."

Silence settled between them.

The Syndicate. The shadow organization that had orchestrated the downfall of Ethan's family. The real enemy.

Ethan closed the folder. "Then we start with Elias."

Dominic smirked. "I thought you'd say that."

He reached into his jacket and pulled out a golden invitation.

Ethan took it, flipping it over.

"Harrington Industries Annual Gala. Invite-Only. March 15, The Sapphire Grand."

A high-profile event. Billionaires, politicians, power players—all in one room. The perfect place to strike.

Dominic raised his glass in a toast. "Time to show them that the son of Nathaniel Cross isn't dead."

Ethan clinked his glass against Dominic's. "No," he said, eyes gleaming with something dark and dangerous.

"He's just getting started."

—

The venue was breathtaking—a sprawling ballroom lined with crystal chandeliers, a sea of elite guests dressed in designer suits and gowns. Cameras flashed as the richest, most powerful figures in the city arrived.

And among them, unnoticed at first, walked Ethan Cross.

He wore a black Brioni tuxedo, tailored to perfection. A single silver cufflink gleamed on his wrist—the only piece of jewelry he ever wore. His presence was effortless, commanding.

The whispers started as soon as people recognized him.

"Is that… Ethan Cross?"

"I heard he came out of nowhere. He took down Vanderbilt in a single night."

"What's he doing here?"

But Ethan ignored them. His eyes were focused on one man.

At the center of the room, surrounded by politicians and executives, stood Elias Harrington.

The older man exuded wealth and power, his navy blue Tom Ford suit impeccable. His laughter was deep, calculated. He had no idea the walls around him were about to collapse.

Ethan approached the bar, ordering a drink. He waited. Watching. Calculating.

Then, as planned, the first strike landed.

A sudden wave of notifications buzzed across the room. Phones lit up. Conversations froze.

People started checking their screens. Whispers turned into gasps.

Elias's smile faltered. He pulled out his phone, his face darkening. Something was wrong.

Ethan watched as the color drained from the billionaire's face. He knew exactly what Elias was reading.

Breaking News: EXPOSED – Elias Harrington's Secret Offshore Accounts and Corrupt Deals

Millions in hidden transactions. Bribes. Payoffs. Money laundering.

Ethan took a slow sip of his drink. The trap had been set.

Elias turned, scanning the room in panic. His gaze locked onto Ethan's.

Ethan smirked. Checkmate.