Dominate me

Chapter4

CHAPTER FOUR

The glass door to my private office didn’t just close; I slammed it so hard the transparent pane rattled within its steel frame.

"Mateo!" I roared, the sound tearing from my throat before I had even thrown my wet trench coat onto the leather sofa.

The heavy wood door to the main corridor burst open a second later. My underboss stepped in, his expression instantly sharpening into an alert, defensive posture as his eyes scanned my disheveled appearance. "Boss? What happened at the pier? We saw the data breach alert on the main network right after you left—"

"Don't play stupid with me," I snarled, stepping up to him until we were chest to chest. I didn't care that he was a head taller than me, or that he had been my father’s most loyal enforcer before I inherited the throne. Right now, my cartel’s entire economy was on the brink of absolute ruin because of a digital ghost. "The East Side’s southern distribution warehouse was raided by the feds thirty minutes ago. The coordinates were leaked using my personal encryption key. *My* signature, Mateo."

Mateo blinked, a genuine flicker of shock crossing his features before it hardened into cold, calculating logic. "The southern line? That completely chokes out their remaining supply chain. If they can't move product through the south, the East Side is dead by the end of the month."

"I didn't authorize it," I whispered, my voice dripping with dangerous promise. "And I am the only person with access to that terminal. Which means someone in this house bypassed my security, stole my digital footprint, and signed off on the transfer of those seized routes to our ledger. Who did it?"

"Boss, look at the big picture," Mateo argued, throwing his hands out. "Whoever did it just handed us the entire monopoly on the city’s trade. The West Side’s profit margins are going to triple overnight. Why are you angry about a victory?"

"Because it’s a setup!" I yelled, slamming my palm against my desk. The vibration rattled the crystal decanter of bourbon. "He knows it was my signature. He thinks I dragged him out to a boardroom to humiliate him, then lured him to an abandoned pier just to keep him distracted while my crew gutted his empire behind his back. He isn't going to sit back and watch his syndicate starve, Mateo. He just declared total war."

The memory of his eyes on that pier—the sudden, terrifying transition from raw, irresistible hunger to absolute, venomous hatred—made a sick twist of panic knot in my stomach. The toxic bond we had been forging in the shadows wasn't just broken; it was a weapon he was going to use to hunt me down.

"Let him try," Mateo countered, his tone turning dark and arrogant. "The East Side doesn't have the ammunition to fight us on a good day, let alone when they're bleeding cash. We tighten the perimeter, we liquefy their remaining street assets, and we bury them."

"No," I commanded, my voice dropping into that icy, absolute register that left no room for debate. "We do not launch an offensive. We find the leak in our network first. If someone can steal my encryption keys to frame me for a hit, they can steal the keys to my compound next. Get the tech team up. I want a full forensic sweep of my personal server before sunrise."

Mateo stared at me for a long, tense moment, his jaw clenching. He didn't like being managed, and he certainly didn't like passing up a chance to completely eliminate our rivals. But he bowed his head anyway. "Understood, Boss. I'll get the analysts on it."

The second the door clicked shut behind him, the mask of the fearless cartel queen cracked.

I sank into my leather executive chair, my chest heaving as I pulled the sleek, hidden burner phone from my desk drawer. My fingers hovered over the glass screen. I wanted to text him. I wanted to tell him to look at the digital footprint again, to realize that a real queen wouldn't need to steal his routes in the dark to beat him. I wanted to feel his heavy, frustratingly irresistible presence crowding my space again, even if it was violent, even if it was toxic.

But I couldn't. The line was dead. The silence from his end was louder than any threat he could have yelled at me on that pier.

Suddenly, a soft *ping* echoed from my primary desktop computer across the room.

I frowned, standing up and walking over to the secure terminal. The screen was black, save for a single, flashing red prompt in the center of the encrypted network interface. It wasn't a standard alert. It was an external bypass override.

A single file began downloading automatically, bypassing my firewalls as if they were made of paper.

When the file opened, a high-resolution photograph filled the screen. It was a snapshot taken from a hidden surveillance drone down at Pier 4, dated exactly fifteen minutes ago. The image showed me standing in the fog, my trench coat open, his heavy leather jacket inches from my chest, his hand wrapped firmly around my wrist.

Underneath the photo, a single line of text appeared in a generic system font:

*The queen is sleeping with the enemy while the bando bleeds. Let’s see how long your soldiers stay loyal when they find out who is really running the northern docks.*

The breath completely left my lungs. The trap hadn't just been set for him. The deception was designed to completely destroy us both from the inside out.

The stakes just got incredibly high. The blackmailer has photographic proof of their secret affair.