The Sinclair Protocol – My Delivery Girl is a Private Military Queen

By Lea von Löwenstein

Chapter 10: Family Traditions

Part 1: Morning Light

Sinclair Estate – Master Suite

The morning sunlight painted soft shadows across the luxurious bedroom as Liv studied her reflection. The medical monitors had been removed, though faint marks on her wrist remained as reminders of yesterday’s events.

“You know,” Sebastian’s aristocratic voice carried amusement as he adjusted his tie, “most people bring wine or flowers to their grandmother-in-law’s birthday.”

“Most people,” Liv’s smile held dangerous silk as she checked her appearance, ensuring no trace of yesterday’s medical crisis showed, “don’t marry into the Blackwood dynasty.”

The air carried the subtle scent of her perfume – carefully chosen to mask any lingering antiseptic smell – as she moved to help with his tie. Her fingers worked with practiced grace despite their slight tremor.

“The family vault access codes,” she continued, smoothing his collar. “That’s what she really wants, isn’t it?”

Sebastian’s laugh held pure appreciation. “Darling, you’ve known her for less than a month and you’ve already figured out more than most of the board.”

“The infamous Lady Blackwood didn’t build her empire by accepting simple gifts.” Liv’s dangerous smile remained as she stepped back to admire her work. “Though I doubt she expects what I’m planning to bring.”

“Should I be concerned?” His aristocratic features settled into calculated interest.

“Let’s just say,” her voice carried pure silk, “that grandfather’s research wasn’t the only thing hidden in those old Sinclair vaults.”

The morning light caught her expression as she turned – the same predatory smile that had outmaneuvered yesterday’s strike team. Sometimes, the most dangerous gift wasn’t the one wrapped in elegant paper – but the one that came with carefully hidden strings.

The morning sunlight streamed through tall windows as Liv activated her secure line. The air carried the subtle scent of her perfume mixed with the rich aroma of Sebastian’s preferred coffee.

“James,” her voice held pure silk as her loyal head of security answered. “I need you to prepare something special from the Sinclair archives. Something worthy of Lady Blackwood’s… particular tastes.”

“The Amsterdam files?” James Sterling’s voice carried professional understanding. “Or perhaps the Singapore portfolio?”

“Neither,” Liv’s smile turned dangerous as she traced patterns on her desk. “I’m thinking of the Geneva records. The ones father thinks were destroyed after the Concordat.”

A measured pause. “Those records were sealed for a reason, ma’am. After yesterday’s incident-“

“After yesterday’s incident,” her laugh held no humor, “I believe it’s time certain historical documents found their way to more… appreciative hands.”

Through the secure line, she could hear James processing the implications. He’d been by her side long enough to recognize when she was setting up a longer game.

“Lady Blackwood has been trying to access those files for decades,” he noted carefully.

“Exactly,” Liv’s voice carried pure predator. “And now her new granddaughter-in-law just happens to have access to information that even the Blackwood intelligence network couldn’t uncover.”

“Shall I prepare the usual security protocols?”

“No,” her smile remained dangerous. “This time, we’re going to let certain things be found. After all,” she glanced at Sebastian working in the adjacent room, “what’s family for if not sharing carefully selected secrets?”

The morning light caught her expression as she ended the call. Sometimes, the most valuable gift wasn’t in what you revealed – but in making someone think they’d discovered exactly what you wanted them to find.

The morning light filtered through reinforced windows as James supervised the careful preparation of Lady Blackwood’s gift. The climate-controlled archive carried the subtle scent of aged paper and preservation chemicals.

“The Geneva files,” his voice held professional precision as white-gloved archivists handled the documents. “Specifically the portions relating to Project Echo. All originals, with authenticated Sinclair watermarks.”

“Verification complete,” the lead archivist confirmed. “These are the only surviving copies of the Echo Protocols. The rest were allegedly destroyed after the Concordat.”

Through secure channels, Liv’s voice carried pure silk. “And the modified security markers?”

“In place, ma’am,” James replied while monitoring the preservation process. “Anyone attempting to verify these will find exactly the authentication signatures they expect. Including the ones Lady Blackwood’s intelligence network specifically looks for.”

The archivists worked with practiced care as they prepared the documents for presentation. Each page was a carefully crafted piece of a larger game – one that would give Lady Blackwood exactly what she thought she wanted.

“The presentation case?”

“Antique Moroccan leather, ma’am. Pre-war craftsmanship, with the Sinclair family crest subtly embossed. Elegant enough to be a worthy gift, but not so ornate as to overshadow the contents.”

Liv’s dangerous smile carried through her voice. “Perfect. After all, we wouldn’t want Lady Blackwood to think we’re trying too hard to impress her.”

The late morning light painted elegant shadows across the bedroom as Liv made her final preparations. Her reflection showed no trace of yesterday’s medical crisis – every detail of her appearance calculated to project exactly the image expected of Sebastian Blackwood’s new wife.

“The gift is ready,” James’s voice carried professional satisfaction through secure channels. “Lady Blackwood will find the Geneva documents… intriguing.”

“Perfect,” Liv’s smile held dangerous silk as she adjusted her Cartier bracelet – carefully positioned to cover the fading marks from yesterday’s medical monitors. “And Sebastian’s grandmother does so love to be intrigued.”

Her Chanel suit was perfectly tailored – elegant enough for a private family gathering, but not so ornate as to seem like she was trying too hard to impress the infamous Lady Blackwood. Every detail, from her subtle Bulgari earrings to her Louboutin heels, crafted to present exactly the image of a suitable Blackwood bride.

Through the mirror, she could see Sebastian watching her with aristocratic appreciation. His own appearance was impeccable as always, though she noted the slight protective tension in his posture – a remnant of yesterday’s events.

“Ready to charm my grandmother, darling?” His voice held calculated amusement.

“Of course,” her laugh carried pure predator beneath its silk. “Though I suspect she’ll find our gift far more charming than any social pleasantries.”

The late morning sun caught the polished black surface of the Rolls-Royce Phantom as Sebastian helped Liv into the rear cabin. The leather interior carried subtle notes of luxury, mixing with the lingering trace of her carefully chosen perfume.

“James confirmed secure transport protocols?” Liv’s voice held pure silk as she settled into her seat, the Geneva documents case resting elegantly beside her.

“Of course,” Sebastian’s aristocratic features showed calculated amusement as he joined her. “Though I doubt even the infamous Lady Blackwood would attempt anything quite so direct. Not on her own birthday.”

The privacy screen rose silently as their driver navigated the estate’s winding driveway. Liv’s dangerous smile remained as she watched the manicured grounds pass by, every detail of her appearance crafted to meet the exacting standards of the Blackwood matriarch.

“You know,” her laugh held no humor, “most people would be nervous about meeting their grandmother-in-law for the first time after marriage.”

“Most people,” Sebastian’s hand found hers with protective grace, “didn’t survive a chemical weapons attack yesterday. I rather think you can handle afternoon tea with grandmother.”

Part 2: Family Welcome

Blackwood Manor – Main Entrance

The late morning sun cast elegant shadows across the imposing Georgian façade as Sebastian helped Liv from the Rolls-Royce. The air carried the subtle scent of old money – perfectly maintained roses and centuries of privilege.

“Sebastian Blackwood,” Lady Margaret’s voice cut through the morning air like expensive steel. “I see you’ve brought your… acquisition.” Her eyes swept over Liv with calculated dismissal. “How quaint that the Sinclair girl thinks she belongs here.”

Through the perfectly manicured entrance, more Blackwood family members emerged. Each face carried the same aristocratic disdain, each expression carefully crafted to remind Liv of her supposed place.

“Darling,” Cousin Elizabeth’s voice dripped false concern, “when you said you’d made a strategic alliance, we assumed you meant with someone of… appropriate standing. Not some social media socialite playing at finance.”

Sebastian’s aristocratic features remained composed, though Liv felt his hand tighten slightly on hers. His Aunt Victoria stepped forward, her Hermès scarf arranged with perfect precision.

“Really, Sebastian,” her tone carried pure venom beneath its silk, “first you reject the Rothschild girl, and now this? At least Victoria understood the importance of proper breeding.”

The late morning sun felt suddenly colder as more Blackwood family members emerged from the manor’s imposing entrance. The perfectly manicured grounds seemed to hold their breath as the aristocratic assault continued.

“Oh, look who’s arrived,” Cousin Penelope’s voice carried practiced venom. “The little delivery girl who thought she could buy her way into proper society.”

Lord Richard Blackwood stepped forward, his Savile Row suit a perfect match to his contemptuous expression. “I must say, Sebastian, when we heard you’d married beneath your station, we didn’t realize quite how far beneath.”

“Though it does explain the rushed ceremony,” Lady Margaret added with cruel precision. “One does wonder what sort of… leverage the Sinclair girl needed to secure such an advantageous match.”

Sebastian’s aristocratic features remained composed, though his protective stance grew more pronounced. Through the gathering, whispers carried like perfectly aimed daggers:

“Did you see her shoes? Last season’s Louboutins…”

“I heard she actually worked for a living…”

“Probably learned finance from watching YouTube…”

Aunt Victoria’s smile turned particularly vicious. “I suppose we should be grateful she at least managed to dress herself appropriately. Though anyone can buy Chanel these days, can’t they? Even… former delivery personnel.”

Liv’s dangerous smile never wavered as she held the Geneva documents case with elegant precision. Sometimes, the most effective weapon against aristocratic disdain wasn’t immediate retaliation – but letting them think their barbs had landed while positioning your own strike perfectly.

“I find it fascinating,” his tone held lethal precision, “how quickly the family forgets that the Blackwood fortune was built by a dock worker’s daughter who married above her station. Or shall we discuss exactly how Grandmother achieved her position despite the family’s… initial reservations?”

A sudden silence fell across the gathered aristocrats, each face showing carefully controlled recognition of their tactical error. Sebastian’s smile turned predatory as he continued.

“Now then, shall we proceed to the dining hall? After all,” his eyes swept across his relatives with calculated assessment, “we wouldn’t want to keep Grandmother waiting while you attempt to insult the woman who outmaneuvered the Singapore merger your precious Victoria failed to secure.”

The perfectly maintained entrance hall carried whispers of expensive perfume and wounded pride as the family proceeded inside. Liv’s dangerous smile remained perfectly in place as Sebastian guided her through the imposing doorway, the Geneva documents case held with elegant precision.

The dining hall opened before them like a cathedral to old money – crystal chandeliers casting precise shadows across centuries of privilege. Antique silverware gleamed on the massive mahogany table, each place setting a careful statement of position and power.

Sebastian’s family arranged themselves with practiced grace, though their earlier venom had been replaced by something closer to wary calculation. Sometimes, the most effective response to aristocratic disdain wasn’t in the target’s reaction – but in remembering exactly why the family’s power existed in the first place.

The crystal chandeliers cast elegant shadows across the dining hall as Lady Eleanor Blackwood made her entrance. At eighty-two, she moved with the same dangerous grace that had transformed a dock worker’s daughter into one of Britain’s most formidable financial powers.

The assembled family fell silent as she ignored their presence completely, moving directly to where Sebastian and Liv stood. Her Savile Row suit was impeccably tailored, her eyes carrying the same predatory intelligence that had built the Blackwood empire.

“Sebastian, darling,” her voice held pure silk over steel as she embraced her grandson. “I see you’ve finally found someone worthy of that brilliant mind of yours.” Her gaze shifted to Liv with calculated appreciation. “The Sinclair girl who orchestrated the Singapore takeover while everyone thought she was just arranging charity galas. Fascinating.”

Through the stunned silence of the gathered aristocrats, Lady Eleanor’s smile turned dangerous. “I do hope you’ve brought me something more interesting than the usual birthday platitudes, my dear. These family gatherings can be so tediously predictable.”

Liv’s answering smile matched the matriarch’s predatory edge perfectly. “I thought you might appreciate certain historical documents from the Geneva era, Lady Blackwood. The ones everyone thought were destroyed after the Concordat.”

The dining hall hummed with barely controlled tension as Lady Eleanor’s eyes lit with dangerous interest. Sometimes, the most effective alliance wasn’t in bloodlines or breeding – but in recognizing a kindred strategic mind.

The crystal chandeliers cast elegant shadows as Lady Margaret stepped forward, her voice carrying practiced concern. “Mother, surely you can’t be considering accepting documents from… someone of her background. The Geneva records are sealed for a reason.”

“Indeed,” Lord Richard’s aristocratic features settled into calculated intervention. “The Sinclair girl clearly doesn’t understand the delicate nature of such historical matters. Perhaps Victoria could show you the quarterly projections instead-“

Lady Eleanor’s hand rose slightly, silencing the gathering with practiced authority. Her eyes never left the Geneva documents case in Liv’s possession, their predatory interest matching the dangerous silk in her voice.

“Fascinating,” she noted, ignoring her children’s attempts at interference. “The same family that thought my dock worker’s heritage made me unsuitable now presumes to lecture about… background.” Her smile turned lethal. “Tell me, Richard, how is the Singapore merger that your precious Victoria failed to secure?”

Through the stunned silence, Aunt Victoria attempted one final intervention. “Mother, please. The Sinclair girl clearly doesn’t understand our family’s position. These documents could compromise-“

“Could compromise what exactly?” Lady Eleanor’s voice carried pure steel. “The carefully constructed narrative about how the Blackwood fortune was built? Or perhaps,” her eyes showed dangerous amusement, “you’re concerned about what else might be hidden in those Geneva files?”

Liv’s smile remained perfectly composed as the family’s desperate attempts at intervention revealed exactly what they feared. Sometimes, the most effective strategy wasn’t in the gift itself – but in watching who tried hardest to prevent its delivery.

Part 3: Hidden Threads

Blackwood Manor – Grand Dining Hall

The crystal chandeliers cast revealing shadows as Sebastian stepped forward, his aristocratic features settled into dangerous amusement. “I find it fascinating how quickly the family forgets to verify their intelligence networks.”

Lady Eleanor’s smile turned predatory as she watched her grandson move protectively beside his wife. “Indeed. Though perhaps we should enlighten them about exactly who they’ve been attempting to humiliate.”

“Mother,” Lady Margaret’s voice carried desperate authority, “surely you can’t be suggesting-“

“That I’ve known Olivia Sinclair since she was eighteen?” Lady Eleanor’s laugh held pure silk over steel. “That while you were all dismissing her as a simple socialite, she was helping me restructure the Asian markets?”

Through the stunned silence, Liv’s dangerous smile never wavered. “Lady Blackwood was kind enough to mentor me during my Harvard years. Those quarterly projections Victoria’s so proud of?” Her laugh carried lethal precision. “Who did you think actually designed the algorithmic framework?”

“All those charity galas,” Lady Eleanor continued with calculated satisfaction, “where you thought the little Sinclair girl was just playing at finance. Tell me, Richard, did you never wonder why I attended every single one?”

Sebastian’s aristocratic features showed pure appreciation as he watched his family process exactly who they’d been trying to dismiss. The dining hall hummed with the quiet devastation of carefully constructed prejudices crumbling.

“Now then,” Lady Eleanor’s voice held dangerous silk as she gestured toward the Geneva documents. “Shall we discuss what my granddaughter-in-law has brought for my birthday? After all,” her smile turned predatory, “family traditions are so important to maintain.”

The crystal chandeliers cast precise shadows as Liv moved forward with elegant grace, the Geneva documents case held with calculated precision. The gathered family watched in stunned silence as their earlier attempts at humiliation crumbled beneath the weight of Lady Eleanor’s revelation.

“I believe,” Liv’s voice carried pure silk as she presented the antique Moroccan leather case, “these particular records might interest you, Lady Blackwood. Especially the sections regarding Project Echo.”

Lady Eleanor’s predatory smile deepened as she traced the subtle embossing of the Sinclair family crest. “The Echo Protocols? The ones that supposedly disappeared after the Concordat?” Her eyes showed dangerous appreciation. “How fascinating that they survived in the Sinclair vaults all these years.”

Through the gathered silence, Sebastian watched with aristocratic satisfaction as his grandmother opened the case. Each document was perfectly preserved, the modified security markers catching the light as she examined them with practiced expertise.

“My dear,” Lady Eleanor’s voice held lethal silk, “you do understand what these protocols represent? The leverage they provide?”

“Of course,” Liv’s dangerous smile never wavered. “After all, you taught me the importance of understanding historical context during those… private mentoring sessions.”

The dining hall hummed with barely controlled tension as the family watched their matriarch examine documents they’d spent decades trying to locate. Sometimes, the most effective power play wasn’t in the information itself – but in demonstrating exactly who controlled its release.

“Well then,” Lady Eleanor’s smile matched Liv’s predatory edge perfectly. “Shall we discuss why these particular records were worth preserving? After all,” her eyes swept across her stunned family, “it seems we have quite a bit of… family history to review.”

The crystal chandeliers cast merciless light as the family processed exactly what the Geneva documents represented. Lady Margaret’s perfectly composed mask cracked first, her voice carrying barely controlled panic.

“Those records were sealed for a reason,” she hissed, eyes fixed on the Echo Protocols. “The family agreements after the Concordat-“

“Were meant to protect certain interests,” Lady Eleanor’s voice held dangerous silk as she examined another page. “Though I find it fascinating which members of our family seem most… concerned about their contents.”

Lord Richard’s aristocratic features had lost their earlier disdain, replaced by calculating assessment. “Surely we can discuss this privately, Mother. Without… outside observers.”

“Outside observers?” Sebastian’s laugh held no humor. “Like the dock worker’s daughter who built this fortune while you all clung to your inherited titles?”

Through the gathered tension, Cousin Elizabeth’s carefully crafted composure shattered. “You can’t seriously be considering making these documents public. The implications for certain family holdings-“

“Are precisely why my granddaughter-in-law’s gift is so… appropriate,” Lady Eleanor’s smile matched Liv’s predatory edge. “After all, nothing says ‘welcome to the family’ quite like holding the keys to its carefully buried secrets.”

The dining hall hummed with the quiet devastation of power shifting. Sometimes, the most effective revenge wasn’t in immediate triumph – but in watching those who tried to humiliate you realize exactly who held their fate in perfectly manicured hands.

The crystal chandeliers cast unforgiving light as Lady Eleanor deliberately placed another document on the mahogany table. “The Singapore merger,” her voice carried lethal silk. “Tell me, Victoria dear, do you recognize these financial models?”

Victoria’s perfectly crafted mask crumbled as she stared at the familiar market strategies – the ones she’d claimed as her own work. “But… these are dated three years ago. When she was just delivering documents between offices and planning those charity galas…”

“Fascinating, isn’t it?” Liv’s laugh held dangerous precision. “How much one can observe while delivering sensitive documents. How many conversations people have when they think the delivery girl is just another piece of furniture.”

Sebastian’s aristocratic features showed pure satisfaction as comprehension dawned across his family’s faces. Lord Richard’s hand trembled slightly as he reached for another document.

“The Asian market restructuring,” his voice had lost all earlier condescension. “You were the one… all those times you delivered strategy papers to my office…”

“While you were all dismissing me as the Sinclair delivery girl playing at being a socialite,” Liv’s smile turned predatory, “I was learning every weakness in your market position. Every whispered conversation, every carelessly displayed document.”

Lady Margaret’s carefully maintained composure shattered completely. “But you were just running errands for your father’s company. Delivering papers and planning parties…”

“The perfect cover, wasn’t it?” Lady Eleanor’s voice held dangerous amusement. “The heir to Sinclair Global, hiding in plain sight as a simple delivery girl. Really, Margaret, did none of you wonder why such sensitive documents were being handed to someone you thought was just a glorified courier?”

The dining hall hummed with the quiet devastation of realization. Sometimes, the most effective disguise wasn’t in playing one role – but in layering them so perfectly that no one thought to look deeper.

Blackwood Manor – Guest Suite

The morning sunlight painted elegant shadows across the antique furnishings as Liv checked her secure messages. The air still carried traces of last night’s victory at Lady Eleanor’s birthday celebration.

“Ma’am,” James’s message held professional amusement. “You might find this morning’s financial news… interesting. It seems Mr. Thorne has scheduled a press conference for noon.”

Liv’s dangerous smile reflected in the ornate mirror as she read further. “Marcus Thorne and Sophia Montgomery proudly announce the merger of Thorne Capital with Montgomery Financial… How fascinating.”

Through the secure channel, James continued: “The timing is particularly entertaining, ma’am. Apparently, their rushed wedding took place yesterday afternoon. Though I must say,” his tone carried pure satisfaction, “they seem to have missed the morning’s headlines about your own marriage to Sebastian Blackwood.”

Sebastian’s aristocratic features showed calculated amusement as he read over her shoulder. “Merger with Montgomery? That’s… an interesting choice.”

“Indeed,” Liv’s laugh held lethal silk. “Especially since Robert Montgomery’s Asian holdings are built on certain financial models that look remarkably familiar.”

The morning light caught her predatory smile as she began composing her response. Sometimes, the most effective revenge wasn’t in immediate action – but in watching others rush into exactly the trap you’d laid months ago.

The morning sunlight caught Liv’s predatory smile as she re-read James’s message. “Marcus Thorne and Sophia Montgomery… rushing to announce their merger the day after our wedding. How perfectly desperate.”

Sebastian’s aristocratic features showed dangerous amusement as he watched his wife’s satisfaction unfold. “Tori Montgomery´s family does have that lovely banking dynasty reputation he’s probably counting on.”

“Poor Marcus,” Liv’s laugh held lethal silk. “Always so focused on appearances. The ambitious CEO and his perfect society bride.” Her smile turned sharper. “Though I do wonder if he’s checked the underlying structure of those Asian holdings he’s so eager to merge with.”

Through secure channels, James added another detail: “The press conference is set for noon at Thorne Tower, ma’am. Shall I prepare the usual media monitoring protocols?”

“Of course,” Liv’s voice carried pure predator. “After all, we wouldn’t want to miss Marcus explaining how his brilliant financial strategies,” her laugh held no humor, “happen to match certain proprietary Sinclair algorithms exactly.”

The morning sunlight painted elegant shadows as Liv’s dangerous smile deepened, her fingers tracing the press release details on her secure tablet. The air carried the subtle scent of Sebastian’s coffee as she savored the delicious irony.

“You know what’s truly entertaining, darling?” her voice held pure silk. “That ‘groundbreaking Asian investment strategy’ Marcus is so proud of? The one he’s using to impress the Montgomerybanking dynasty?”

Sebastian’s aristocratic features showed calculated interest as he settled beside her. “Do tell.”

“I arranged that entire structure last summer,” her laugh carried lethal satisfaction. “While delivering documents between offices, of course. Poor Marcus was so focused on appearing brilliant in front of the board, he never questioned why those particular investment models worked so perfectly.”

Through secure channels, James added: “The press release mentions ‘innovative financial engineering that will revolutionize Asian markets’, ma’am.”

“Fascinating choice of words,” Liv’s smile turned predatory. “Considering those exact algorithms are patented under my name in the Sinclair Global database. Though I suppose Marcus was too busy planning his society wedding to check such minor details.”

The morning sunlight caught Sebastian’s aristocratic features as they shifted from calculated amusement to dangerous understanding. His coffee forgotten as the full implications of Liv’s revelation sank in.

“The Asian investment structure,” his voice held lethal precision. “The one Marcus is using to secure the Montgomery fortune… You didn’t just arrange it.”

“No,” Liv’s smile turned purely predatory. “I designed it specifically to fail under certain conditions. Conditions that become active the moment someone tries to merge those holdings with… say, a banking dynasty’s legacy portfolio.”

Sebastian’s laugh held pure appreciation as he watched his wife’s carefully laid trap unfold. “So when Marcus announces the merger with Tori’s family assets…”

“He’ll be proudly declaring his own destruction,” Liv’s voice carried silk over steel. “The moment those portfolios merge, the underlying algorithms will trigger a cascade effect. Everything he built using my work – all those brilliant strategies he claimed as his own…”

Through secure channels, James added with professional satisfaction: “The press conference invitation lists quite an impressive array of financial journalists, ma’am. Apparently, Mr. Thorne wants maximum coverage for his… achievement.”