/ Breaking a Shadow [Beta Version Complete] / Ch 16: A Breech of Protocol

Ch 16: A Breech of Protocol

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Ch 16: A Breech of Protocol

The scratch of Kazimir's pen stopped.

Elena looked up, startled by the sudden silence.

Kazimir wasn't writing. His gaze fixed on the grey sea beyond the window. A muscle jumped in his jaw.

The pause stretched. Suffocating.

He knows. The thought circled in her head. He likely saw the fresh bandage that morning. Likely realized the absence of the fever.

And he had said nothing. Not on the walk to the office. Not in the first hour of work. Not even now.

The conspiracy of the night held—fragile and damning in the daylight. A secret that made her more of a liability. A witness to a weakness he could never afford.

Elena dropped her gaze back to her hands. The grey wool of her skirt was rough against her fingertips. She focused on the texture, on the tiny pills forming in the fabric. Anything except the weight of his awareness.

A knock came, and before anyone could answer, the door swung open.

"Kaz." Valentina approached Kazimir, placing a sealed envelope on his desk. "A message from Dante. Too delicate for the usual channels."

Her gaze slid to Elena. Lingered.

"And how are you finding your new accommodations, little bird?" Her lips curved. "Try not to distract him with your overwhelming presence."

Elena dropped her chin to her chest, her shoulders curling inward.

Valentina snorted.

Kazimir didn't look up as he slit the envelope open. His tone was impatient. "What does Dante want now?"

Valentina huffed, leaning a hip against his desk.

"He's concerned that you're becoming a babysitter." She paused, crossing her arms. "And frankly, so am I. Why did you chain yourself to a burden? It makes you look weak. You know that."

Kazimir set the letter down. He looked at Valentina.

"My time is my own to waste. And my burdens—" His gaze flicked briefly to Elena. "—are my property to secure. I know what I am doing."

It was a rebuke, but a mild one.

Valentina's smirk deepened. She pushed off the desk.

"If you don't want to listen, fine. Just don't say I didn't warn you." Her eyes swept over Elena one last time. "Remember Kaz, no lock holds forever against someone determined to break it."

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Then, she was gone.

Kazimir returned to his papers, but a new tension corded his neck.

The door hadn’t stayed closed long. It opened again a few moments later.

Leo entered, his usual composure cracked with an urgency. "Boss. It's the Conti shipment. They didn't just hijack it. They're holding the crew at the old marina warehouse. Demanding a parley on their turf. Now."

Kazimir was on his feet in an instant. Papers forgotten. Pen discarded.

"How many?"

"Six of ours. Conti sent at least ten. They're armed."

Kazimir’s hands fisted. He started for the door—then halted.

Elena was still in the chair, her eyes locked on her hands.

His eyes narrowed with irritation. "You. Don't leave this room. Don't open this door. For anyone. Is that clear?"

Elena nodded. A frantic, jerky motion.

Satisfied, Kazimir left with Leo. The key turned from the outside. Then retreating footsteps, hurried and heavy.

Silence.

Then, faintly, the distant roar of engines tearing away from the mansion.

Elena didn’t move at first. She listened—counting the seconds, as if the house itself might call them back.

Nothing.

Her shoulders sank. The tight coil in her chest loosened, just a fraction. Slowly, she pushed herself to her feet.

The office felt different without him in it. Larger. Looser. The air no longer pressed so close to her skin.

Her gaze drifted—over the broad desk, the precise stacks of papers, the objects arranged with almost obsessive control. Nothing was out of place.

She moved toward the window, each step cautious despite the emptiness. Outside, the drive stretched long and pale beneath the afternoon light. No cars. No movement.

Then a sound cut through the stillness.

Not from the hall. From the lock. A faint, metallic scritch-scratch.

Elena froze. She turned her head toward the door, listening.

It came again. A sharper scrape, metal slipping against metal.

Not a key. Someone is picking the lock!

Her pulse lurched. She immediately pressed herself flat against the nearest wall. Her eyes darted frantically until it landed on the heavy wardrobe by the bathroom. She scrambled toward it on silent, shaking legs. She pulled the door open just enough to slip inside and left a sliver to peer through.

The darkness was close. It smelled of cedar. She curled among the suits, trying to calm her fear.

The scratching stopped. A muffled curse. Silvio's voice.

Then the jangle of a keyring. A key was inserted. It turned with a clunk. The lock had been bypassed entirely.

Elena's breath stopped. Through the crack, she watched the office door swing inward.

A slow, satisfied smile pulled at Marco's mouth as he entered first, a ring of keys dangling from his finger. Silvio followed, already scanning the room. The door shut softly behind them.

Marco moved straight to the desk. He swept aside one of the neat stacks, flipping through papers with quick, practiced motions.

"Where do you think he'll put it?" Silvio asked, joining him.

"Dante said he has it. Keep looking."

Paper slid against paper. Drawers thudded softly. The careful order of the room began to unravel under their hands.

As Elena watched, her breath hitched. Her mind caught on the timing—Leo’s urgency, the crew taken, Kazimir pulled out. Too clean. Kazimir had been made to leave.

The real hunt was not at the marina. It was here.

Marco’s hand stilled on a drawer. Slowly, his head tilted. “You hear that?”

Silvio went quiet.

Elena pressed her fist against her mouth—but the sound had already slipped free.

Marco didn’t move.

A beat passed.

Then, slowly, he straightened, his eyes narrowing. “We’re not alone.”

Last edited by Feiya Phia 5/4/26