Chapter 5

• The Day After the Gala
• The morning sun rose without apology.
• Moiraine stood at the private terminal of the airport, watching Stephen’s plane taxi down the runway. She wore a neutral expression, lips barely curved into a goodbye smile. But beneath her calm exterior, her mind was already ten steps ahead.
• Unknown to him, one of her most trusted shadows had boarded the flight as well—disguised as a flight technician. She would have every report, every movement, every conversation Stephen made while overseas.
• This time, there would be no surprises.
• As the jet disappeared into the clouds, Moiraine turned without another glance. Today’s mission was far more personal.
• A new beginning.
• Far from prying eyes and hidden cameras. Far from betrayal disguised in familiar faces.
• She had set out to tour a list of properties, each villa smaller and more secure than the mansion she currently occupied. The idea of returning home to a space possibly littered with bugs or hidden surveillance made her skin crawl. No—she needed silence, space… and absolute control.
• Three villas in, and nothing had sparked her interest. Her driver trailed behind as she moved from one property to the next, growing more distant with each rejection. While the real estate agent rambled on, Moiraine’s thoughts drifted to Dihanna.
• Cutting her off completely was tempting. Too tempting.
• But no… That would be too easy, and too suspicious. Moiraine needed her close. Close enough to watch. Close enough to expose. Dihanna was a viper—one you didn’t let out of your sight.
• The fourth villa sat on the edge of a quiet hilltop. Modest. Secluded. Elegant, but not flashy.
• The moment she stepped through the arched doorway and into the sunlit atrium, she felt it.
• Peace. Control. Power.
• “This is it,” she said, a smile tugging at her lips. “This is the one.”
• The agent—whose shoulders had slumped after three rejections—visibly straightened with relief. “I’ll start the paperwork immediately, Miss Sokolov.”
• Moiraine walked to the wide glass windows, gazing out at the view. Her reflection stared back, soft white hair catching the golden light.
• Yes… this would do.
• Back at the Sokolov Mansion…
• Moiraine asked the head butler where Dihanna was. She already had the perfect idea on how to handle her.
• “She’s in the study room, ma’am,” he said. “Apparently, she has some business to take care of.”
• Moiraine headed to the third floor where the study was located. Just as she reached for the handle, the door opened from the inside and a few men walked out.
• “Okay, Miss Sokolov, it was great doing business with you,” one of them said, giving Moiraine a light glance before being escorted out.
• She narrowed her eyes. Miss Sokolov? That was supposed to be her title. How the hell did she ever allow Dihanna this much authority?
• Stepping into the room, Moiraine said calmly, “I thought I told you—no business transactions in the mansion. I don’t like it.”
• Dihanna looked up, startled. She hadn’t expected her to return so early. Her heart skipped. God, I hope she didn’t hear what those men just called me…
• Her real name was Dihanna Andrews, but she’d carefully fed people the lie that she was a member of the Sokolov family. It made doing business easier—and safer.
• “I’m so sorry,” she said quickly, putting on her best apologetic face. “I had a lot going on, and I had to just squeeze this in. Won’t happen again.”
• If it were the old Moiraine, she might’ve believed her. But not anymore.
• With a small, sadistic smile, Moiraine waved her hand. “It’s all good. I actually wanted to talk to you about something. But first, call the kitchen—have them bring some tea up. I’m tired as hell.” She collapsed into a nearby chair and added with a light chuckle, “We should go shopping one of these days. It’s boring being alone.”
• Dihanna walked over to the desk and made the call. But her mind was racing. This doesn’t feel good. What could she possibly want to talk about over tea?
• Feigning a smile, she stood quietly as they waited.
• A few minutes later, a young maid entered with the tea tray. As she placed it on the table, her hand trembled and she accidentally knocked one of the tiny flower pots aside.
• “Stupid girl, are you blind?!” Dihanna snapped.
• The maid immediately dropped to her knees, head bowed. “I’m really sorry, ma’am,” she muttered, then scrambled out of the room in quick steps.
• Moiraine watched it all in silence.
• Interesting little girl, she thought, a faint smirk touching her lips.
• As the maid poured the tea and left, Moiraine gestured toward Dihanna.
• “Oh, come on. Serve yours too—and sit down. It’s not like we’re in some official board meeting.”
• Dihanna chuckled nervously and finally sat down, pouring her own cup. As she took a small sip, Moiraine spoke casually.
• “So… how’s the family business going?”
• Dihanna nodded. “Nothing new. Business is going smoothly. As usual, the Luave family covers our front. Except for your godfather’s grandson. He’s been a pestering fly lately, all because no one from the Sokolov side will grant him audience. He doesn’t know that there’s only—” She caught herself, quickly adjusting, “—well, he doesn’t know the full story.”
• Moiraine smiled, hiding the glint in her eyes.
• Turns out I was overthinking things, Dihanna thought to herself with a relieved breath.
• Moiraine only nodded in response, sipping her tea. She already knew everything. Her personal driver—handpicked by her godfather—had been feeding her updates on everything Dihanna tried to cover up. Since she woke up back in time, she made sure to question everything she once believed.
• “That’s good,” Moiraine said calmly. “As for the issue with Dylan Luave, I think I’ve come up with the perfect solution.”
• Dihanna raised a brow mid-sip.
• “You’re going to publicly declare yourself as a daughter of the Sokolov family and start handling our business affairs more openly. That should get him to back off. He’ll stop trying to dig into our dealings.”
• Dihanna choked, tea spurting from her mouth. She quickly grabbed a tissue and dabbed at her lips.
• “I—I don’t think that’s necessary,” she stammered. Her chest tightened. She hadn’t made enough ground in the underground world to pull a move like that. Declaring herself now would put a target on her back and undo everything she’d worked to build in secret.
• Trying to keep her voice steady, she responded, “I mean… I’ve got my hands full with a few other mafia families. Something this big might cause unnecessary noise—maybe even spark suspicion.”
• Moiraine looked at her for a long moment, quiet… calculating.
• Then she smiled again. “Hmm. We’ll see.”
• Dihanna choked, the tea in her mouth spilling slightly as she quickly dabbed her lips with a tissue.
• “I—I don’t think that’s necessary,” she said, her tone light but her thoughts racing. Declaring herself publicly? That was too soon. Too risky. She hadn’t secured enough ground yet in the underground world. Things were only just beginning to shift in her favor—if she moved now, it could ruin everything.
• Trying to sound calm, she added, “I mean, I have my hands full dealing with the other mafia families. Something this big could stir unnecessary ruckus.”
• Moiraine just watched her, her face unreadable for a moment.
• Then she gave a small smile, setting her tea down with deliberate calm.
• “Hm. We’ll see,” she replied softly.
• Dihanna felt her heart skip. That smile… it didn’t feel comforting.
• It felt like the beginning of a silent war.
• Meanwhile, across the city…
• Dylan’s POV
• The blinds were half-closed in Dylan Luave’s office, bathing the room in a low amber glow as the city bustled below. He sat quietly, tapping his fingers against his desk as John stood across from him, holding a discreet file.
• “She was there again,” Dylan finally said, eyes narrowed. “That Sokolov girl.”
• John tilted his head. “Moiraine?”
• Dylan gave a single nod, voice quiet but sharp. “I want everything you can find on her. I know what the public sees—a pretty face, a background padded with money and indulgence. But I don’t buy it.”
• John nodded once and left.
• Later That Day…
• John returned, his expression unreadable. “Sir, I’ve compiled what I could find…”
• Dylan glanced up. “And?”
• “There’s… not much. Honestly, nothing suspicious. A ghost with just enough documentation to look real. Background? Clean. Travel records? Clean. Social ties? Minimal.”
• Dylan frowned. “And the Sokolovs?”
• “Even worse,” John said with a sigh. “They’ve scrubbed themselves clean from the inside out. No criminal records. No failed business deals. Nothing illegal. No known enemies. But sir—every time we try digging deeper, someone blocks access. There’s a pattern. Everything vanishes the moment we reach a certain level.”
• Dylan narrowed his eyes, lips twitching with irritation.
• “They’ve got someone protecting their shadows,” he muttered. “Someone powerful.”
• He stood and walked over to the window, jaw clenched.
• “She’s hiding something. And I’ll find it.”