Roman Volkov''s heart hammered against his ribs as he sat in Liam''s vi, surrounded by Havenwood City''s elite. The grand room that had once hostedvish celebrations now felt like a trap closing around him. Every face that had once smiled at Liam in deference now bore expressions of fearful obedience to the man who had summoned them all.


    Conrad Thornton.


    I shouldn''t havee, Roman thought, feeling sweat trickle down his spine. But what choice did I have?


    The message had been clear: attendance was mandatory. Those who defied Conrad Thornton didn''t live long enough to regret it.


    "Your name?" Uncle Armando called out, his voice cutting through the tense silence as he continued down his list.


    "Jessica Chen, Havenwood Daily," a trembling voice responded from across the room.


    I watched as Conrad''s eyes flicked dismissively over the woman. The Grandmaster sat in what had been Liam''s chair, emanating an aura so oppressive that several people near him seemed to struggle to breathe normally. His fingers drummedzily on the armrest, the rhythmic tapping more threatening than any shoutedmand.


    "And your rtionship with Liam Knight?" Uncle Armando continued.


    Jessica Chen''s professionalposure crumbled. "I—I merely reported on his activities asionally. He''s never been a source or—"


    "She wrote that glowing profilest spring," someone in the crowd volunteered eagerly. "Called him ''Havenwood''s Miracle Worker.''"


    Conrad''s eyes narrowed slightly. Jessica paled.


    "I was simply reporting what others were saying," she stammered. "I have no personal loyalty to Mr. Knight. None whatsoever."


    The pattern had been established quickly. As each person was called, they rushed to minimize their connections to Liam, often eagerly offering damning information about others in the room who might have been closer to him.


    I nced at ric, the only person who had been brave—or foolish—enough to apany me. His usually impassive security-chief face showed tiny cracks of concern.


    "This is a witch hunt," he whispered.


    Before I could respond, Uncle Armando''s voice boomed again.


    "Roman Volkov."


    My blood turned to ice. The room fell deathly quiet, then erupted in a flurry of pointing fingers and eager voices.


    "There! That''s him!"


    "In the blue suit, near the back!"


    "Liam Knight''s right-hand man in Havenwood!"


    I rose slowly, feeling every eye in the room upon me. The short walk to the center of the gathering felt like marching toward my execution.


    Conrad Thornton studied me, his gaze both casual and prating. "Roman Volkov," he said, my name sounding like a verdict in his mouth. "I''ve heard much about you."


    I struggled to find my voice. "Most of it likely exaggerated, Mr. Thornton."


    A thin smile crossed his face. "Is it? My sources tell me you''ve been quite... devoted to Liam Knight."


    "We''ve had business dealings," I said, choosing my words carefully. "He helped mypany during a difficult time."


    "Helped yourpany?" Conrad''s voice carried mock surprise. "From what I understand, he saved your entire business empire when you were on the brink of bankruptcy. And healed your daughter when she was dying, didn''t he?"


    My throat tightened at the mention of my daughter. "Yes," I admitted. "I owe him for that."


    "And in return, you''ve be his most ardent supporter in Havenwood," Conrad continued, leaning forward slightly. "His proxy, some might say."


    "I wouldn''t characterize—"


    "He''s Liam''s eyes and ears in the city!" someone shouted from behind me. I recognized the voice as belonging to Marcus Wheeler, a man who''d begged for my help connecting him to Liam just months ago.


    "Always threatening people who speak against Knight!" another voice added.


    "Said he''d make us regret it if we didn''t support Liam!"


    I turned, stunned at the cascade of false usations. Faces that had smiled at me at countless gs and charity events now twisted with opportunistic venom.


    "That''s not true," I protested, but my voice was drowned out by the chorus of betrayal.


    Conrad raised a hand, and the room fell instantly silent.


    "It seems you''ve made quite an impression, Mr. Volkov," he said smoothly. "Tell me, where is Liam Knight now?"


    "I don''t know," I answered truthfully.


    "And if you did?"


    I hesitated, knowing my answer might seal my fate. "I wouldn''t tell you."


    A ripple of horrified gasps swept through the room. Conrad''s expression didn''t change, but something darkened in his eyes.


    "He even boasted that Liam would kill you!" shouted a voice I recognized as Councilman Peters, a man whose campaign I''d personally funded. "Said Liam Knight would return and make you regret evering to Havenwood!"


    "I never said that!" I protested, turning to face my users. "I''ve never threatened anyone on Liam''s behalf!"


    But it was useless. One after another, Havenwood''s elite piled on usations, fabricating threats and boasts I''d never made, each trying to prove their loyalty to Conrad by painting me as Liam''s fanatical supporter.


    I looked around the room, meeting eyes that immediately darted away in shame or red back with manufactured righteousness. These people had courted Liam''s favor, had smiled and fawned when he could benefit them. Now they couldn''t distance themselves fast enough.


    "It appears you have quite a reputation, Mr. Volkov," Conrad said, his voice cutting through the mor. "One that suggests unwavering loyalty to a man I''vee to find... problematic." <var ss="in-imprint-a">The original source is *.</var>


    My heart pounded so violently I was certain everyone could hear it. Conrad Thornton rose from his seat, and the air in the room seemed to thicken, pressing down on all of us.


    "I admire loyalty," he said, walking toward me with measured steps. "It''s a rare quality in today''s world. As you can see—" he gestured around at the room of eager betrayers, "—most people''s loyalty extends only as far as their own self-interest."


    He stopped directly in front of me, close enough that I could see the faint golden glow in his pupils—the mark of his Grandmaster status.


    "But loyalty to the wrong person can be... fatal."


    I fought the urge to step back, to look away from his prating gaze. "Mr. Thornton, I''m a businessman, not a warrior. Whatever conflict exists between you and Liam Knight doesn''t involve me."


    "Everything connected to Liam Knight involves me now," Conrad replied. "And you, by all ounts, are very much connected."


    Uncle Armando appeared at Conrad''s side, holding something in his hands. With horror, I realized it was a stack of photos—surveince images showing me entering Liam''s vi, meeting with his associates, speaking on the phone while looking concerned.


    "We''ve been watching Havenwood for some time," Uncle Armando exined with clinical detachment. "You feature prominently in our observations of Knight''swork."


    Conrad took one of the photos, examining it with casual interest. "You have a choice to make, Mr. Volkov. Demonstrate that your loyalty can be... redirected to more appropriate parties, or face the consequences of your misced devotion."


    The room had gonepletely silent. I could feel ric''s tension from across the room, likely calcting impossible odds of extracting me safely.


    "What exactly are you asking me to do?" I managed to ask.


    Conrad smiled, and it was like watching ice crack. "Simple. Help me find Liam Knight. Tell me everything you know about his whereabouts, his ns, his weaknesses. And publicly dere your allegiance to the Thornton family."


    I thought of Liam—how he''d saved my daughter when no one else could, asking nothing in return. How he''d helped rebuild my business, offered friendship when others had abandoned me. I thought of my daughter''s smile, her future that existed only because of Liam''s intervention.


    And I knew, despite the terror squeezing my chest, there was only one answer I could give.


    "I''m afraid I can''t do that, Mr. Thornton."


    The temperature in the room seemed to plummet. Conrad''s smile vanished, reced by something cold and calcting.


    "Can''t? Or won''t?"


    "Both," I said, finding a strange calm in what might be my final act of defiance. "Liam Knight saved my daughter''s life. I won''t betray him, even if it costs me mine."


    Conrad studied me for a long moment, then turned to address the silent crowd.


    "This," he announced, "is what true loyalty looks like." He gestured toward me. "Misguided, perhaps fatally so, but genuine. Unlike the rest of you, who would sell your own children for a favorable nce."


    The assembled elite shifted ufortably, unable to meet his contemptuous gaze.


    Conrad turned back to me. "Your loyalty ismendable, Mr. Volkov. But ultimately futile."


    He raised his hand slowly, and I felt an invisible pressure building around my throat.


    "Consider carefully what happens next," Conrad said softly. "This is the price of loyalty to Liam Knight."


    The pressure tightened, and I struggled to draw breath. As darkness began to edge my vision, I heard the frantic voices of those who had just betrayed me, now eager to witness my punishment to confirm their own safety.