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

By Lea von Löwenstein

Chapter 13: Lethal Moves

Part 1: Press and Pressure

Sinclair Global HQ – Executive Level

The afternoon light caught Liv’s burning ice expression as she prepared for war on multiple fronts. Her Chanel suit had been replaced, but the memory of Sebastian’s blood remained as potent as her fury.

“James,” her voice carried lethal silk through secure channels. “I need everything on our Singapore operations. Manufacturing records, security protocols, personnel transfers – especially anything unusual in the last eight months.”

“Compiling now, ma’am. Initial data shows three senior-level visits to the ammunition facility since January. Correlating with the shell company formations.”

Turning to Doctor Chen, her Harvard-trained mind shifted between tactical and medical priorities. “Any change in his condition, I want to know immediately. The custom rounds were designed for delayed tissue damage – there might be more surprises.”

“Full monitoring protocols in place,” Chen’s professional precision carried reassurance. “Mr. Blackwood is stable, but we’re watching for any secondary effects.”

The afternoon light caught Liv’s predatory smile as the target shifted. Her burning ice expression turned purely lethal at the mention of Marcus Thorne’s press conference.

“James,” her voice carried dangerous silk through secure channels. “Thorne Capital’s announcement. Give me everything.”

“Live stream starting in twenty minutes, ma’am. Marcus Thorne presenting their billion-dollar valuation to investors. The Ashworth family in attendance, including his new bride Sophia. Press package emphasizes their algorithms.”

Liv’s mind calculated angles of attack. The algorithms Marcus was about to present – her algorithms, developed during their engagement before he proved exactly how ruthless ambition could be.

“Doctor Chen,” she turned briefly from her tactical planning. “Sebastian’s condition-“

“Remains stable, ma’am. Full monitoring continues. Mr. Blackwood is in good hands.”

Through secure channels, James added: “Thorne Capital’s stock already up twelve percent on announcement speculation. Their security protocols still showing our restricted signatures.”

“James,” her voice carried dangerous silk through secure channels. “Have the Phantom ready in five. And ensure our legal team has those algorithm ownership documents prepared for immediate release.”

“Vehicle being prepared, ma’am. Full security detail in position. Legal has confirmed – all algorithms are registered under your patents, with development timestamps predating Thorne Capital’s implementation.”

Turning briefly to Doctor Chen, her Harvard-trained mind balanced priorities. “Any change in Sebastian’s condition-“

“Will be reported instantly, ma’am. Mr. Blackwood remains stable.”

Through secure channels, James added: “The Ashworth family’s entire investment committee is present. Thorne Capital’s stock up another three points on speculation.”

The afternoon light softened as Liv paused, drawn to Sebastian’s recovery room. Her burning ice expression melted slightly as she approached his bed, medical monitors providing steady reassurance of his stability.

“I’m about to destroy Marcus’s little press conference,” her voice carried silk instead of steel as she leaned down to kiss him. “Rest well, my dangerous-“

Her words cut off as Sebastian’s hand caught her with unexpected strength, pulling her closer. His aristocratic features showed focused awareness despite the medication, his grip far steadier than someone with a devastating shoulder wound should manage.

“Going to war without me?” his voice held both pain and dangerous amusement. “How inconsiderate of Marcus’s timing.”

Through secure channels, James’s voice carried professional urgency: “Car waiting, ma’am. Fourteen minutes until press conference.”

But Liv’s mind was momentarily distracted by Sebastian’s surprisingly strong grip and the lethal intelligence still sharp in his eyes. The afternoon air crackled with something beyond tactical planning as he refused to release her.

“The Blackwood family,” his smile turned predatory despite the pain, “has always been rather difficult to keep down.”

“Crash them well, my dear wife,” his voice carried pure warmth beneath the amusement. “Show Marcus exactly what happens when he underestimates a Sinclair.”

Liv’s heart skipped at seeing him so alert, so present, when just hours ago his blood had soaked her suit. His grip on her hand remained strong – wonderfully, impossibly strong for someone who’d nearly died twice today.

“Any special requests for how I destroy your ex-friend’s empire?” Her burning ice melted slightly as she savored his touch, his presence, his life.

“Mmm,” Sebastian’s smile turned purely wicked despite the pain lines around his eyes. “Make it spectacular. You always were breathtaking when unleashing hell.”

“Me?”, Liv smiles with a naughty fire burning in her eyes. “I am only a poor little delivery girl. How could I possibly unleash hell? Darling. That will come a bit later.” Her smile widens with an idea about the press bloodbath.

Part 2: Pressconference

Thorne Capital Headquarters – Main Conference Hall

The afternoon light painted harsh shadows across the packed conference hall as Marcus Thorne took the podium. His perfectly tailored suit and practiced smile spoke of a man certain of his triumph, unaware of the predator about to strike.

“Ladies and gentlemen of the press,” his voice carried rehearsed confidence. “Today marks a historic moment for Thorne Capital. Our revolutionary trading systems have attracted unprecedented investment interest…”

The gathered financial journalists leaned forward, tablets ready to record what promised to be the year’s biggest merger announcement. Sophia Montgomery’s society smile gleamed from the front row, her father Robert’s investment committee arranged behind her like a wall of old money authority.

Through the conference hall’s elegant doors, a lethal presence entered with clicking Louboutins. The afternoon air crackled with sudden tension as heads turned. Marcus recognizing the lowly delivery girl he dumped. Something changed on her.

His practiced charm reasserted itself quickly, his smile turning almost predatory as he reclaimed the room’s attention.

“As I was saying,” his voice carried calculated confidence, “Thorne Capital’s growth has exceeded all market expectations. Our proprietary trading systems have demonstrated unprecedented success rates…”

Through the gathered press, whispers rippled as Liv moved with lethal grace toward an empty seat. Sophia Montgomery’s perfect society smile showed the first hints of strain as she watched her husband continue his presentation.

“The Montgomery Group’s decision to partner with us,” Marcus’s tone held dangerous satisfaction, “represents more than just investment. It validates our position as market leaders in financial innovation.”

The afternoon light caught Marcus’s growing confidence as he moved to his moment of triumph, completely unaware of the burning ice in Liv’s smile as she watched from the gathered press.

“Today, I’m privileged to announce,” his voice carried pure satisfaction, “that Thorne Capital has secured investment commitments exceeding thirty billion dollars.” His practiced charm turned to Sophia Montgomery’s perfect society smile. “This unprecedented show of confidence will be formalized at our signing ceremony two weeks from today.”

Through the conference hall, financial journalists frantically typed as Marcus continued, carefully avoiding any mention of the investment’s source. Robert Montgomery’s aristocratic features showed calculated approval from his position behind his daughter.

“This partnership,” Marcus’s tone held dangerous pride, “represents not just capital, but a validation of Thorne Capital’s position in the market. Our innovative trading systems have attracted attention from the highest levels of global finance.”

The afternoon air crackled with tension as Liv’s predatory smile widened. “Just keep talking,” Liv’s thoughts ran like sweet revenge through her mind. “I will enjoy your bloody downfall.”

“Thirty billion dollars is quite impressive, Marcus,” her voice carried dangerous silk through the suddenly silent hall. “Though perhaps you should have mentioned where your ‘innovative trading systems’ actually originated?”

The gathered press shifted attention instantly. Sophia Montgomery’s perfect society smile froze as she recognized the predator beneath Liv’s Chanel suit.

“Or shall we discuss,” Liv’s tone turned purely lethal, “how Thorne Capital’s entire trading platform was developed during our engagement?”

Marcus’s perfectly tailored suit couldn’t hide the sudden tension in his shoulders as he faced the woman he’d betrayed. Then he started laughing. “You?”

“A jealous delivery girl?” his voice carried forced amusement. “Is that what this pathetic interruption is about? The devastated peasant, still bitter that I chose someone more… suitable?”

Through the gathered press, cameras focused on the building confrontation. Sophia Montgomery’s society smile slipped further as she watched Marcus’s composure turn into pure poison.

Liv’s burning ice expression turned purely predatory at his attempt to dismiss her. “Fascinating choice of words, Marcus. Though perhaps not as fascinating as explaining to your investors exactly how a ‘delivery girl’ designed the trading algorithms you’re about to sell them.”

The afternoon light caught Marcus’s laughter as he tried maintaining control.

“A delivery girl with delusions of grandeur,” his voice carried forced mockery. “Is that why you’re here? Because watching your pathetic little courier service fail while I built an empire was too much?” His perfectly tailored suit couldn’t hide the growing tension in his shoulders.

“Tell me, Liv,” his tone turned uglier with each word, “how many packages did you have to deliver to afford that Chanel suit? Or did your sugar daddy’s charity finally extend to your wardrobe?”

Through the conference hall, journalists captured every moment of his unraveling. Sophia Montgomery’s society smile had completely turned into laughter.

“Really, darling,” her voice carried privileged contempt, “must we endure this… spectacle? A delivery girl claiming credit for complex financial systems?” Her designer heels clicked precisely as she approached the podium.

“I’ve watched Marcus build these trading platforms from nothing,” Sophia’s tone dripped with practiced superiority. “While you were… what was it? Running packages across London in that dreadful little van?”

Through the gathered press, cameras captured every moment of calculated cruelty. Robert Montgomery’s aristocratic features showed cold approval of his daughter’s intervention.

The afternoon light caught Liv’s transformation from burning ice to pure predator as she faced both Marcus and Sophia. Savouring the perfect moment to strike.

“Actually,” her voice carried lethal silk through the chaos. “I just came by to make a little announcement of my own.” Her smile turned dangerous as she addressed the gathered press. “In two weeks, at your grand signing gala, Marcus, you’ll learn exactly why you made your last mistake.”

Part 3: The Promise

Through the conference hall, journalists frantically captured every word as Marcus’s practiced confidence wavered. Sophia’s aristocratic disdain cracked slightly at the pure certainty in Liv’s tone.

“Enjoy your billion dollar dreams,” Liv’s words carried pure venom as she turned to leave. “Because at the gala, you’ll watch your empire crumble. And Sophia, darling?” Her burning ice smile promised devastation. “Tell your father to wear something expensive. It’ll be his last chance to show off the Montgomery fortune. He shouldn’t have invested your whole fortune in that thirty billion dollar dream, that will shatter in two weeks.”

The afternoon light caught the ripple of cruel laughter spreading through the conference hall as London’s financial elite sided with their own. Marcus’s practiced charm gained new confidence from their support, while Sophia’s aristocratic smile turned purely victorious.

“You see?” Marcus’s voice carried renewed mockery. “Even they know how absurd your claims are. A delivery girl designing trading systems?” The gathered investors joined his calculated amusement.

Through the press corps, even hardened journalists couldn’t hide their smirks. The sight of a supposed delivery girl being humiliated by her betters was too delicious to resist.

But Liv’s burning ice smile never wavered as she watched them laugh. Cataloguing every face, every sneer, every person who would soon learn exactly why underestimating a Sinclair was fatal.

“Laugh while you can,” her voice carried pure venom as she turned to leave. “In two weeks, at the gala, you’ll all discover exactly how expensive it is to mock the wrong delivery girl. To me, all of your fortune combined… means nothing at all.”

Marcus waves the security guards. His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper that carried pure threat through the suddenly silent hall.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Each word dripped with lethal promise. “Perhaps it’s time to show everyone exactly what happens to those who challenge real power. We should publicly cripple you and break your limbs right here, in front of the press.”

Liv’s burning ice smile never wavered as she faced him. “Fascinating. The moment your lies are threatened, you resort to open threats?” She calculated exactly how this would play in tomorrow’s financial papers. “I’d really love to see someone try to break my limbs.”

Through the gathered journalists, the earlier laughter died instantly. Sophia’s aristocratic features changed into pure blood lust.

“Though perhaps,” Liv’s voice carried pure venom, “you’d prefer I don’t mention your other… operations? The ones hidden beneath London’s financial district?” Her smile turned predatory. “Or shall we discuss exactly what your new investors’ money is really funding?”

The afternoon air crackled with lethal tension as Marcus’s expression turned purely murderous.

The afternoon light caught Marcus’s shift back to calculated mockery as he regained his composure. His perfectly tailored suit matched his practiced society laugh as he turned to address the gathered press.

“Desperate accusations from a desperate woman,” his voice carried pure condescension. “First claiming credit for our trading systems, now inventing shadowy conspiracies?” His smile turned cruel as he faced Liv. “Tell me, what else did you imagine while delivering those packages?”

Through the conference hall, the earlier laughter returned as London’s elite rallied behind their own. Sophia’s aristocratic features where pure poison.

Liv’s burning ice smile never wavered as she absorbed their mockery.

“Laugh while you can, Marcus,” her voice carried lethal silk as she turned to leave. “In two weeks, we’ll see who’s truly desperate.”

Marcus’s hand gesture carried lethal intent as his security team moved with deadly purpose.

“You are death, Olivia,” his voice held no trace of its earlier mockery. “And no one will ever dare to do anything against it. Not even the press.”

Through the gathered journalists, a disturbing shift occurred as London’s elite sensed blood in the water. Sophia Montgomery’s aristocratic features transformed into something purely predatory, her society smile revealing a bloodlust that matched her fiancé’s darkness.

“Finally showing her what real power means, darling?” Sophia’s voice carried dangerous satisfaction as the press corps turned away, pretending not to see what was about to unfold.

Ten ex-special forces soldiers closed the circle around her in lethal precision. Mercenaries who killed hundreds of men, women and children without any remorse. Now they had a new target.

Liv’s burning ice smile never wavered as the security team closed in. “As I said. I’d love to see someone try.” She looked the security team right in their eyes with pure amusement. “Let’s dance ladies.”

Marcus’s security team moved at once with pure bloodlust.

Five seconds.

That’s all it took.

A wrist snapped with surgical precision as Liv redirected his momentum.

The second found himself airborne.

Eight more collapsed in a devastating sequence of strikes that spoke of training far beyond imagination.

Through the gathered press, shocked silence fell as London’s elite watched their assumptions shatter along with the guards’ bones.

Sophia’s bloodlust turned to pure horror as ten highly trained men lay groaning in their own bloody bruises on the polished floor.

Liv’s burning ice smile never wavered as she straightened her Chanel suit. “Fascinating choice, Marcus,” her voice carried lethal silk. “Though perhaps not as fascinating as explaining to your investors why you just ordered a public execution.”

Then she walked out, smiling.