The Breach of kings
880 Words
The alarm ripped through the compound at 3:14 a.m.
Harsh.
Sharp.
Merciless.
Exactly like Anton Kray.
He was on his feet instantly, gun in hand, jaw set.
Alice scrambled after him, heart pounding, but Anton didn’t spare her a look.
This wasn’t fear.
This was protocol
“Report,” Anton snapped as two guards approached.
“South gate breach, Boss. Twelve second camera loop.”
“Twelve seconds is too long,” Anton growled. “Lock down every exit. No one in or out.”
The walls vibrated with the heavy thud of reinforced doors sealing shut. The air thickened with tension, the kind that tasted like metal and danger.
Anton moved with purpose, all angles, cold calculation, and lethal silence.
Alice could barely breathe.
The guards traced the breach to a single room.
Miranda’s.
Anton dismissed the guards with a wave.
He entered first.
Alice followed behind him.
The room had been turned upside down.
Drawers pulled out.
The mattress gutted.
Wall panels pried open.
Someone had searched for something.
Or planted something.
Anton stepped over the debris with clinical detachment.
No emotion.
No hesitation.
His men stood tense, waiting for orders.
“What did they take?” Anton asked.
The guard swallowed. “Nothing, Boss. But… we found this.”
He handed Anton a phone.
Miranda’s.
Anton turned it on without a flicker of reaction. He scrolled through her messages, eyes narrowing ,not with guilt… but with interest.
Alice watched his expression carefully.
He wasn’t sad.
He wasn’t shaken.
He was calculating.
Assessing.
Studying the puzzle.
Anton read the message Miranda wrote:
“Mama, I’ll find a way to come home with a surprise for Daniel, before his birthday”
Alice waited for a shift in his expression.
There was none.
Only a cold realization sharpening within him.
Another message:
“Don’t tell him I’m coming. I want him to smile when he sees me.”
Still nothing.
No regret.
No remorse.
Not even a flinch.
Alice finally whispered, “Anton… Miranda had a son.”
Anton’s eyes flicked toward her for half a second.
“Everyone has something,” he said simply.
“She hid it well. That’s why she survived in my world.”
Alice braced herself.
“So you don’t feel anything, you killed an innocent woman. A mother “
“I feel nothing,” Anton cut in.
“She made a mistake. Mistakes get you killed. That part is irrelevant.”
His voice was flat.
Deadly.
Business-like.
“She wasn’t the mole. That is the only thing that matters.”
Alice inhaled sharply.
Of course.
This was Anton Kray.
A man who could order a village to burn and never blink.
Anton examined Miranda’s phone logs, the call Alice overheard.
A simple domestic number.
A call home.
“She was clean.”
Cold statement.
Not a whisper of regret.
Anton tossed the phone onto the ruined bed like it meant nothing.
His gaze hardened.
“That means her letters were planted to frame her.”
His mind was already moving fast, ruthless, precise.
“Which means the real mole is still inside my walls,” he said.
“And smart enough to exploit my protocols.”
A chill ran through Alice.
Anton turned to his guards.
“I want fingerprints scanned. Every drawer. Every item moved. Someone touched this room.”
“Yes, Boss.”
He gave another order.
“Double the security grid. Rewrite access codes. Full background checks on every man within the compound.”
His tone darkened.
“No one is above suspicion not even my inner circle.”
Alice swallowed, Even Frederick, Even herself.
Anton continued, voice sharp as a blade:
“A mole this clean… this precise… this bold… is not afraid of me.”
He paused.
“And that is the problem.”
War Logic
Anton paced the room, boots crunching over broken drawer fragments.
His mind wasn’t on Miranda.
Not her son.
Not her pleading.
Not her death.
He was already strategizing the next move.
“Viktor did this,” Anton said.
“He planted the letters. He looped the cameras. He wants me paranoid.”
He looked at the slashed mattress, unimpressed.
“He wants me hunting ghosts instead of hunting him.”
Alice hugged her arms tightly around herself.
“What now?” she asked softly.
Anton turned to her and for a moment, she felt the full force of who he truly was.
A king of the criminal underworld.
A monster carved from violence and discipline.
A man who could kill a woman at dawn and eat breakfast at nine.
“Now?” Anton said calmly.
“We adjust. We evolve. We retaliate.”
He walked out of the room without another glance at Miranda’s belongings.
Not a single moment spared for her.
Not even a blink.
Alice stared at the phone lying on the bed, the messages from a mother who never made it home.
Meanwhile Anton issued orders with the same calm tone he used to discuss shipments.
Watching him from the doorway, Alice understood one brutal truth:
Anton Kray didn’t care about death.
He cared about control.
And Miranda’s innocence meant only one thing to him
His empire had been breached.
And someone inside…
someone he trusted…
was working for Viktor.
- Writer
