The Sinclair Protocol – My Delivery Girl is a Private Military Queen
By Lea von Löwenstein
Chapter 14: Silent Victories
Part 1: Morning Reflections
Sinclair Global HQ – Private Suite
The morning light painted soft shadows across Sebastian’s recovery room as Liv arranged their breakfast tray. Her burning ice from yesterday had melted into something warmer as she watched him manage his coffee cup despite the shoulder wound.
“Not a single word in the financial papers,” her voice carried quiet satisfaction. “Fascinating how thoroughly London’s elite can suppress unflattering incidents.”
Sebastian’s aristocratic features showed dangerous amusement as he scanned the morning headlines. “Though perhaps not as fascinating as how quickly Marcus’s security team was discharged from hospital.” His smile turned predatory. “Training accidents.”
Through the suite’s windows, London’s financial district gleamed in the early light.
The smell of fresh croissants, perfect eggs, and the ridiculously expensive coffee Sebastian insisted on even in hospital.
“You should have seen Sophia’s face,” Liv’s tone held pure satisfaction as she poured more coffee. “When her perfect society mask cracked and showed the monster beneath.”
The morning air felt lighter somehow, charged with shared victory rather than just revenge.
The morning light caught Sebastian’s amused expression as he held up the Financial Times. The front page blazed with Marcus’s triumph: “Thorne Capital Secures Historic thirty billion dollar Investment Deal.”
“Listen to this,” his aristocratic features showed pure entertainment as he read. “‘In a groundbreaking announcement, Marcus Thorne revealed unprecedented investment commitments, marking Thorne Capital’s emergence as a dominant force in London’s financial sector.'”
Liv’s smile turned predatory as she poured more of Sebastian’s ridiculous coffee. “And the Montgomery family quotes?”
“‘This partnership represents a perfect alignment of values,’ according to Robert Montgomery.” Sebastian’s tone carried dangerous satisfaction. “Though perhaps not as perfect as Sophia’s statement about ‘uniting two of London’s most prestigious financial dynasties.'”
Through the suite’s windows, the city gleamed with morning promise. The breakfast spread before them felt like a private celebration – their own quiet acknowledgment of how thoroughly they would destroy those headlines in two weeks.
“Two weeks,” Liv’s voice held lethal silk. “Until they learn exactly what happens when you steal from a Sinclair.”
The morning light softened as Doctor Chen entered for his morning rounds, his professional efficiency a stark contrast to their breakfast spread. Sebastian’s aristocratic features showed carefully hidden discomfort as the doctor examined his shoulder wound.
“Remarkable healing rate,” Chen’s voice carried clinical precision. “Though perhaps we should discuss pain management during physical therapy.”
Liv’s burning ice melted into genuine concern as she watched Sebastian suppress a wince.
“The tissue damage is responding well to treatment,” Chen continued while checking vitals. “But no strenuous activity for at least-“
“Three days,” Sebastian’s tone held dangerous amusement. “Which we both know I’ll interpret rather… flexibly.”
The morning light caught Doctor Chen’s growing exasperation as he watched Sebastian attempt to reach for the Financial Times with his injured arm.
“Mr. Blackwood,” Chen’s professional tone carried clear warning. “When I said ‘responding well to treatment,’ I did not mean ‘please test the limits of surgical repair.'”
Liv’s smile held genuine warmth as she moved the paper out of Sebastian’s reach.
“Three days minimum,” Chen continued with practiced patience. “And by minimum, I mean absolute minimum. Not ‘three days minus seventy-two hours because I’m feeling stubborn.'”
Through the suite’s windows, London’s financial district seemed to mock Sebastian’s enforced stillness.
The breakfast spread lay partially forgotten as Chen listed exactly how many ways Sebastian could undo yesterday’s surgical work.
“And no, Mr. Blackwood,” Chen’s voice turned purely professional, “your usual interpretation of medical advice as ‘optional guidelines’ will not apply this time.”
“Three days of enforced stillness?” His voice carried practiced authority that clearly hadn’t impressed Chen before. “Doctor, I have a financial empire to-“
“To watch collapse if you tear those sutures,” Chen’s professional tone turned purely threatening. “Though perhaps you’d prefer discussing the benefits of induced coma for particularly stubborn patients?”
Liv’s burning ice melted into barely suppressed laughter as she watched London’s most dangerous financier being managed by his physician.
“You wouldn’t dare,” Sebastian’s words suddenly lacked every strength.
“Try me, Mr. Blackwood,” Chen’s voice held dangerous promise. “I have the medications prepared. One more attempt to reach that newspaper…” He pulled an auto injector from his pocket.
Sebastian’s hand froze an inch from the newspaper.
Part 2: Gathering Storms
James’s voice cut through secure channels with professional urgency. His tactical update interrupted Sebastian’s ongoing negotiation with Doctor Chen about newspaper privileges.
“Ma’am,” James’s tone carried controlled tension. “First traces located. The shell companies in Singapore show irregular fund movements starting exactly when Richard Drake began his private meetings with the Montgomery group.”
Liv’s burning ice returned instantly as she processed this new name.
“Fascinating timing,” her voice held lethal silk. “Though perhaps not as fascinating as exactly where those funds were redirected.”
“Tell me about Drake,” her voice carried lethal silk. “Every detail you’ve found.”
James maintained absolute precision: “Limited digital footprint, ma’am. Multiple European investment firms, all perfectly legitimate on paper. Started appearing in Montgomery’s inner circle three weeks ago.”
Sebastian’s smile turned dangerous despite his medical restrictions. “Fascinating timing. Right when Marcus began restructuring Thorne Capital’s Singapore holdings.”
“Drake’s pattern is… unusual, ma’am. His European firms all share identical structural frameworks. Perfect mirror images, down to the smallest detail.”
Liv’s burning ice smile turned predatory. “Too perfect.”
“Precisely,” James continued. “Each company established exactly six months before being sold. No variations, no mistakes. Like watching the same play performed by different actors.”
Sebastian’s aristocratic features showed dangerous interest despite his medical restrictions. “And the Singapore connections?”
“All funds move through his firms in precise thirty-day cycles. Again, too perfect. Too…” James paused, choosing his words carefully, “choreographed.”
The morning light caught Liv’s dangerous smile as a new strategy formed. Her Harvard-trained mind already calculating the perfect deployment of family resources.
“James,” her voice carried lethal silk. “Get me Emma on secure channel three.”
Sebastian showed pure appreciation as he recognized the implications of involving Liv’s cousin.
Moments later, Emma Harrison’s precise tone filled the secure line. The Sinclair intelligence chief’s voice carried the same burning ice as her cousin’s.
“Already moving on it, darling,” Emma’s words held dangerous amusement. “My network’s spreading through Drake’s European web as we speak. Rather fascinating how many doors open when you know which keys to turn.”
Emma’s professional frustration broke through secure channels. Her tone carried the same burning ice as her cousin’s, even in admission of temporary defeat. “This will take a bit cousin.”
“His protection is… impressive,” Emma’s voice held careful analysis. “Every trail perfectly secured against outside observation. Like watching a master illusionist – the performance is flawless for the audience.”
Liv’s dangerous smile never wavered as she processed this detail.
“For outsiders,” Emma’s words carried lethal silk. “I will explore a bit more… internal perspectives.”
“How long will you need, Emma?” Liv’s voice burned in a dangerous undertone. “If this is related to the assault on Sebastian and me, I want to know everything you can get.”
Emma’s dangerous amusement cut through the secure channels. Her burning ice tone matched her cousin’s perfectly as she dismissed their temporary setback.
“Oh please,” Emma’s voice carried pure fury. “Tomorrow I’ll tell you the size of his underwear and who bought him his first birthday gift.”
Through the suite’s windows, London’s financial district gleamed as Liv’s smile turned lethal.
Sebastian showed pure appreciation for Emma’s special style of confidence.
“Happy hunting, Emma darling,” Liv’s voice carried lethal silk through secure channels. “Show our mysterious Mr. Drake exactly why your intelligence network remains undefeated.”
Emma’s burning ice tone matched her cousin’s perfectly: “I do so enjoy these little morning challenges. Expect my first report by evening.”
“Back to more pressing matters,” Sebastian’s aristocratic features showed pure satisfaction despite his medical restrictions. “Tell me exactly how many of Marcus’s security team you had to… educate yesterday.”
Liv’s burning ice smile returned as she poured more of his ridiculous coffee. “Ten. Though perhaps not as fascinating as how quickly they learned proper social etiquette.”
“Darling,” his tone carried dangerous amusement, “somehow I doubt your version of etiquette involves Emily Post.”
“True,” her voice held lethal silk. “Though I find broken wrists tend to leave a more lasting impression than proper fork placement.”
Doctor Chen’s exasperated sigh cut through their shared satisfaction. “If you’re quite finished celebrating yesterday’s violence, Mr. Blackwood still has medication schedules to discuss.”
Part 3: Morning Proceeds
“I believe,” Sebastian’s tone carried pure amusement, “our good doctor is attempting to poison me with these particular medications.”
Liv’s burning ice smile softened as she watched Chen arrange the impressive array of pills. “Fascinating theory. Though perhaps not as fascinating as your continued attempts to avoid taking them.”
“The blue ones make me drowsy,” Sebastian’s aristocratic features showed calculated resistance. “Rather difficult to destroy Marcus’s empire while falling asleep at crucial moments.”
“Mr. Blackwood,” Chen’s professional patience was wearing notably thin, “these particular medications ensure you’ll be alive to destroy any empires at all.”
“Besides,” Liv’s voice held dangerous silk as she handed Sebastian the first pill, “I rather enjoy watching London’s most lethal financier being thoroughly managed by his doctor.”
Sebastian’s reply was cut short by James’s voice through secure channels: “Ma’am, preliminary report on Drake’s Singapore connections. You’ll want to see this immediately.”
“Proceed, James,” Liv’s voice carried lethal silk as she handed Sebastian his second pill. “What have you found in Singapore?”
“The transfers, ma’am,” James maintained professional precision. “They’re being routed through a series of hyper-encrypted channels. Military grade. The kind that shouldn’t exist in civilian banking.”
Sebastian’s aristocratic features showed dangerous interest despite Chen’s growing disapproval of his elevated heart rate. “Fascinating security level for simple investment transfers.”
“More fascinating,” James continued, “is the timing. Each transfer occurs exactly three minutes after London’s markets close. Like clockwork.”
“Perfect timing,” Liv’s burning ice smile returned. “Perfect security. Perfect paper trails.” Her tone turned purely predatory. “Rather makes one wonder what’s hiding beneath all that perfection.”
“Ma’am,” James’s voice held careful analysis, “there’s something else. The encryption signatures? They match protocols we’ve only seen once before.”
“Darling cousin,” Emma’s voice suddenly materialized in the secure channel, cutting through James’s report with lethal precision. “Those encryption signatures you’re looking at? I’ve seen them before.”
Liv’s burning ice smile widened as she handed Sebastian his third pill. “Do enlighten us.”
“Remember that delightful mess in Geneva last year? When certain funds simply… vanished from those private Swiss accounts?” Emma’s tone carried pure satisfaction. “Same perfect choreography. Same flawless timing. Same military-grade protection that shouldn’t exist in civilian banking.”
Sebastian’s aristocratic features showed dangerous interest despite Chen’s muttered complaints about his blood pressure. “Fascinating connection. Though perhaps not as fascinating as who was behind those particular disappearances.”
“Precisely,” Emma’s voice held pure silk. “And now our mysterious Mr. Drake appears, using the exact same signatures. Rather makes one wonder about his… professional associations.”
“Keep pulling that thread,” Liv’s tone turned purely predatory. “Let’s see exactly what unravels.”
“Give me ten… or wait… five…” Emma’s voice broke into laughter. “LOL… forget what I said… Those script kiddies…”
“For your viewing pleasure,” Emma’s voice carried pure satisfaction as data flashed across their screens without warning. “Meet our mysterious Mr. Drake’s… associates.”
Liv’s burning ice smile turned predatory as she studied the information. “Adrian Kovač. Lin Wei. Isabella Romano.”
“Three perfect ghosts,” Emma’s tone held dangerous amusement. “Each one appearing exactly when needed, vanishing just as precisely. Rather like our Mr. Drake’s financial footprints.”
Sebastian’s aristocratic features showed lethal interest as he scanned the data despite Chen’s clear disapproval. “Fascinating collection of talents. Though perhaps not as fascinating as how thoroughly they’ve infiltrated London’s elite.”
“Keep watching them,” Liv’s voice carried pure silk. “Let’s see exactly what other shadows they cast.”
“Oh darling,” Emma’s words promised destruction. “I already have eyes on each one. Though I must admit, Ms. Romano’s particular talent for social… manipulation is rather impressive.”
“One more ghost just materialized,” Emma’s voice carried lethal precision as a new profile appeared on their screens. “Dr. Raymond Walsh. Rather skilled at making the impossible look perfectly legitimate.”
“The cleaner,” Liv’s burning ice smile widened as she studied his details. “Though perhaps not as fascinating as who he ultimately reports to.”
Sebastian’s aristocratic features showed pure satisfaction as the final piece appeared – a shadow profile that made Chen’s medical monitors spike sharply. “Viktor Petrov. The Banker.”
“Obsidian Syndicate,” Emma’s tone held dangerous appreciation. “Well, well. Rather explains the perfect choreography of Mr. Drake’s operations.”
“The devil himself,” Liv’s voice carried pure silk as she absorbed the implications. “Playing games in our financial district.”
“And now we know,” Sebastian’s words promised destruction despite Chen’s frantic adjustments to his medication. “Exactly why Marcus’s merger attracted such… particular attention.”
“Darling, I want to kiss you.” Sebastian’s voice was filled with his grin. The. His attempted move stops, as an auto injector materialized in the corner of his sight… and he gave up on Dr. Chen’s angry look.
