The Northvale Key

Episode 8

Exclusive Consultation Session

The sound of Cassian’s dress shoes struck the marble floor of the corridor, creating an ear-piercing echo in the silence of the Valerian building. He lunged forward just as the steel elevator doors were about to close. His rough hand slipped between the sensors, forcing the doors back open with a sharp screech.

Lianna jumped in surprise inside. Her face, already pale from stress, turned even whiter. She stared at the panting Cassian, her eyes filled with confusion. "Cassian? What's wrong with you? You’re scaring me."

Cassian didn't answer with words. His eyes went straight to the tall man in a technician's uniform standing in the corner of the elevator. The man wore a hat pulled low, hiding his face. A heavy tool bag hung over his shoulder. On his neck, hidden behind the collar of his uniform, Cassian caught a small glint of silver—the tip of the crossed thorns symbol he had seen on his phone earlier.

The reaper is already in the house, Cassian thought coldly. He grabbed Lianna’s arm, pulling her out of the elevator with a movement forceful enough to make her stumble.

"Get off now, Lianna. This elevator is malfunctioning," Cassian said, his voice flat but carrying an undeniable vibration of authority.

"What? The technician said it was just a routine check," Lianna protested, though she obeyed and stepped out.

Cassian turned, staring directly at the man in the hat. The elevator doors began to close slowly. The corner of the man's lips curled into a sinister smirk. He didn't move to chase them, as if his goal had already been achieved: he had marked his victim. As the doors closed completely, the man made a throat-cutting gesture with his finger.

"Who was that? Why are you being so strange today?" Lianna straightened her blazer, looking at Cassian with a mix of confusion and irritation. "I have much more urgent matters right now, Cassian. Mr. Chen has been in the meeting room for five minutes. If we lose him, Valerian is truly finished today."

Cassian quickly regulated his breathing, burying his combat instincts back under the mask of a clumsy, low-status man. "Sorry, Lianna. I just heard rumors that the elevator system wasn't safe. Come on, I’ll walk you to the meeting room. I’ll stand at the door to make sure there are no interruptions."

Lianna sighed heavily, too exhausted to argue. She walked quickly toward the Emerald Executive Room on the top floor. Inside, the atmosphere was as cold as the Arctic. Mr. Chen, an investment giant managing trillions, sat in the main chair. His stern face looked bored, his fingers tapping the mahogany table in a pressuring rhythm.

"Mrs. Ashworth, I gave you fifteen extra minutes out of courtesy," Chen’s voice was heavy and gravelly. "But your team of analysts is still trying to convince me with garbage numbers produced by your incompetent cousin. Cyrus almost cost me a fortune."

Lianna sat down, her hands shaking slightly under the table. "Mr. Chen, we have cleaned up our management. Cyrus has been removed. Our new strategy—"

"New strategy?" Chen laughed coldly. "The market is in irrational volatility. Bond valuations plummeted overnight. You’re talking about a new strategy while the foundation of your house is on fire?"

Chen stood up, buttoning his luxury suit jacket. "I’m sorry, but my reputation cannot be risked for a firm that is fighting with itself. Withdraw all my assets this afternoon. Do not contact me again."

Lianna froze. The other directors in the room simply bowed their heads in defeat. The withdrawal of Chen’s assets would trigger a domino effect, destroying Valerian’s remaining liquidity. As Chen walked out the door, he passed Cassian, who stood frozen like a piece of decor.

"Move," Chen commanded Cassian.

Cassian looked at Chen’s tired face, then glanced at the tablet held by Chen’s assistant, which was open to a chart showing energy commodities in a freefall. "The gas index on the East Coast isn't dropping because of oversupply, Mr. Chen. It’s just a manufactured speculative maneuver by Stark Capital to force big players like you to sell low."

Chen stopped dead. He turned his head slowly, staring at Cassian with a deep furrow in his brow. The Valerian directors gasped. What is this clerk talking about? they thought in unison.

"What did you just say?" Chen asked, his voice sharp.

"The daily report you’re reading on that table is off-target," Cassian continued calmly, seemingly indifferent to the death stare from the Matriarch at the end of the room. "If you sell today, you’ll give Kenneth Stark a five-trillion profit overnight. Go buy a coffee at the shop downstairs, Sir. The atmosphere is much quieter for recalculating the true value of that gas anomaly."

Lianna immediately stood up. "Cassian! Shut up! Forgive my husband, Mr. Chen. He’s just a little... exhausted."

Mr. Chen didn't answer. He stared into Cassian’s eyes for five long seconds. There was a spark of genius he recognized, something that shouldn't belong to a man in a shabby administrative assistant’s uniform. "Coffee, huh? Maybe that’s a good idea. This room smells too much like despair."

Mr. Chen left, leaving a suffocating silence in the meeting room. Cassian didn't waste time. Ten minutes later, while Lianna was busy being berated by the Matriarch, Cassian had already slipped away to the small coffee shop across the street under the pretext of buying drinks for the staff.

He found Mr. Chen sitting alone at a corner table. The old man’s face looked confused as he studied the charts in front of him.

"The price dropped another point," Chen muttered as Cassian sat down uninvited across from him.

"Wait until fifteen minutes from now, when the London exchange has its second opening," Cassian sipped his bitter black coffee. "The anomaly will unravel. Check the capital inflow into Stark’s shell companies. They’re using a Shadow Swap to trick your tracking algorithms."

Chen lowered his tablet. "Shadow Swap? That technique is only used by old financial clans in Europe. How does trash like you know that term?"

"My job is just to record documents all day, Mr. Chen. If you look at enough numbers for ten hours a day, you start to see the patterns hidden within the lies," Cassian replied with a convincing, flat tone. "And my advice: shift twenty percent of your capital into maritime cargo bonds tonight before the market closes. The hurricane in the Gulf isn't a threat; it’s a filter for Stark’s tax-troubled ships."

Mr. Chen quickly typed something into his communication device. He waited in silence. Five minutes. Ten minutes. Suddenly, Chen’s eyes widened. The gas chart that had been sliding downward suddenly took a sharp turn upward with terrifying speed.

"It’s up... they really did pull that maneuver," Chen whispered, his voice trembling. If he had sold earlier, he would have lost his trillion-dollar assets forever. He looked at Cassian with immense respect, forgetting all their status differences. "Who are you, really? You’re more than just a clerk at that crumbling family firm."

"My name is Mentor Delta in the larger world of data," Cassian said, providing a shadow identity he had just created in his mind. "Stay with Valerian, Mr. Chen. Not for the sake of the firm, but for the information I will send to your private email anonymously every week. That is the price of our friendship."

Mr. Chen leaned back in his chair, looking as if he had just met a ghost or a god. "Delta... alright. Valerian will keep my full contract, as long as you guarantee this information is accurate."

Cassian stood up. "This afternoon, you’ll see the change for yourself. Enjoy your coffee."

Thirty minutes later, Cassian returned to the office as if he had only been out buying three cups of lattes ordered by the employees.

He entered just as Valerian’s headquarters was being shaken by cheers of disbelief. Lianna stood in front of the meeting room, her face radiating a rare glow of happiness. "He renewed it! Mr. Chen didn't just cancel the asset withdrawal—he increased the capital tenfold!" the assistant finance director shouted. "The Matriarch is very pleased!"

Lianna ran toward Cassian and hugged him instantly in front of the other staff. "You! I don't know what kind of luck you have, but what you said about the coffee... it brought Mr. Chen back! I have no idea how you guessed it, Cassian."

"Just dumb luck, Lianna," Cassian muttered, feeling Lianna's heartbeat, which had now stabilized. In the corner of the room, Cyrus—who hadn't yet finished clearing out his things—stared at the scene with intense envy and hatred. However, the main spotlight shifted to a new announcement from the lobby downstairs.

A courier wearing a uniform with a luxury crown emblem entered, carrying a long black box that looked incredibly exclusive. "Urgent delivery from the private residence of Mr. Chen," the courier announced.

The Matriarch stepped forward, her hands trembling with anticipation. A gift of friendship from Chen was a sign of absolute status. "Let me be the one to receive it. The Valerian Group thanks—"

"Forgive me, Madam," the courier interrupted with a loud voice that made everyone’s heart stop. "This gift is strictly forbidden to be opened by anyone except Mr. Cassian Northvale. A personal order from Mr. Chen. If anyone breaks this seal before it reaches his hands, today’s investment contract will be canceled that very second."

A silence more deadening than before filled the room. The entire logistics staff, the finance team, even the Matriarch froze. Hundreds of eyes were now fixed on Cassian, who was still holding three cheap cups of coffee. Lianna released her hug, staring at the black box with trembling lips.

"Cassian?" Lianna’s voice was almost inaudible. "What’s inside that box? Why is Mr. Chen... targeting you?"

Cassian stepped forward reluctantly, his heart beating faster than it had when he faced the assassin in the elevator. He took the box under the Matriarch’s suspicious gaze and the overflowing hatred on Cyrus’s face.

Slowly, Cassian broke the gold seal. Inside the white velvet box, he found neither gold nor money, but an antique quill pen with a nearly invisible engraving of the ancient Northvale Syndicate logo, wrapped in a small, open letter. Cassian’s eyes widened as he skimmed the first line of the letter.

"Your information is the key to life. However, know this: your second enemy is the person standing beside your wife right now. Check the personal assistant’s watch."

Cassian froze, his gaze snapping toward Lianna’s new assistant, who had always seemed quiet but now appeared pale while clutching his watch unnaturally. A small explosion suddenly erupted on the street outside, shattering the glass windows of the first-floor lobby, and darkness instantly swallowed the entire building as a shrill warning siren wailed.

"Evacuate! There is a technical malfunction!" the security officer’s voice crackled through the distorted intercom.

In the middle of that harrowing darkness, a hand in a leather glove covered Lianna’s mouth and dragged her into a hallway visible only by the flickering red emergency lights.