The Luna You Betrayed Is No Longer Yours

Chapter 124: Chapter 124 To destroy

_Rowena’s POV_

I found Kasper at the hotel restaurant eating breakfast like a man who had already been awake for three hours and was fueling up for whatever came next. Yes, he came.

He looked up when I sat down across from him and read my face in about two seconds.

“You saw it,” he said.

“I saw it,” I replied.

He put his fork down.

“He named himself as the source,” I said. “He didn’t hide behind an anonymous tip or a spokesperson. He put his name on it and sent it to three outlets at two in the morning.” I picked up the coffee that was already on the table and drank some of it. “He’s not just desperate. He’s reckless.”

“Reckless people make mistakes,” Kasper said.

“He’s been making mistakes for weeks,” I said. “I’ve been patient about it because I had other things to focus on. I’m done being patient.”

Kasper was quiet for a moment, watching me with the careful attention he brought to situations where he was deciding whether to ask a question or wait for me to get to the point on my own.

“The club,” I said. “Whoever filed the trademark suit, whatever is already in motion against the Moonreign Pack, that’s a start but it’s not enough. I want something that actually dismantles what he’s built. Not slowly, but properly.”

“Define properly,” Kasper said.

“I want the pack’s financial structure audited,” I said. “Full external audit, filed through the regional business registry. If the money he used to open that club came from sources that don’t hold up under scrutiny, and I think they won’t, then the club isn’t just frozen. It’s finished.” I paused. “I also want the land registration on the Moonreign Pack territory cross-referenced against the original Varkos family title documents. The ones from before their grandfather’s time.”

Kasper raised an eyebrow. “You think there’s something in the original titles?”

“I think nobody has looked at them carefully in forty years,” I said. “And I think when you don’t look at things carefully for forty years, interesting details accumulate.”

He was quiet again. Then, “There’s someone here.”

I looked at him.

“In this city,” he said. “A man named Orren. He runs a documentation and financial investigation firm, completely legitimate, the kind of operation that regional legal teams use when they need clean evidence that holds up in formal proceedings.” He paused. “I’ve worked with him before. He’s thorough and he’s fast and he doesn’t talk about his clients.”

“Can you reach him today?” I asked.

“Already messaged him this morning,” Kasper said. “When I saw the news.”

I looked at him.

He looked back at me with the expression he wore when he had anticipated something and was not going to make a performance of the fact.

“You could have led with that,” I said.

“You needed to say the thing about being done being patient first,” he said. “It’s a process.”

I set the coffee cup down.

“Set the meeting,” I said. “This morning if possible.”

Orren worked out of a building on the commercial side of the city, three floors, clean signage, the kind of firm that looked exactly like what it was because it had nothing to hide.

He shook my hand and didn’t make a production of the Marchioness title, which I appreciated immediately.

We sat down and I told him what I needed.

The full external audit request through the registry. The title cross-reference on the Moonreign land documentation. A complete financial trace on the club’s funding sources, specifically looking for the origin point of the capital used to open it.

He listened without writing anything down, which told me he had a good memory and preferred to understand the full picture before he started organizing it.

“Timeline?” he asked when I finished.

“As fast as clean work allows,” I said. “I don’t want anything that can be challenged on procedural grounds.”

“Two weeks for the full audit filing,” he said. “The title cross-reference I can have a preliminary on within four days. The funding trace depends on how many layers are between the origin and the visible capital, but I’ll have something workable within a week.”

“Start with the funding trace,” I said. “That’s the one with immediate implications.”

He nodded. “I’ll need the pack’s registered business filings. Anything publicly recorded.”

“Kasper will send them this afternoon,” I said.

We shook hands again and I walked out of the building into the late morning sun with Kasper beside me and something settled in my chest that was not quite satisfaction but was adjacent to it. The specific feeling of having set something in motion that was going to proceed correctly and completely without depending on anyone else’s cooperation or goodwill.

Kaelen had put my name in the press at two in the morning.

In two weeks his financial structure was going to be sitting on a regional auditor’s desk.

We walked back toward the main road where Kasper had parked. The street was quiet at this hour, a commercial district that operated on business hours, mostly empty pedestrian-wise except for the occasional person moving between buildings.

“The Owen location this afternoon,” I said, going through the day’s remaining list. “And Kasper, the technician from my father’s service records. I need that name cross-referenced today if possible.” freewёbn૦νeɭ.com

“Already running,” he said.

“Drake,” I said.

“Still working on the location,” he said. “The direction Gabriel gave us is narrowing. I should have something more specific by tonight.”

I nodded.

We turned down the side street toward the car. ƒreewebηoveℓ.com

I was going through the afternoon’s sequence in my head when I noticed the van.

It was parked at the end of the side street, plain, the kind of vehicle that sat in commercial areas without drawing attention. The engine was off. I had registered it without focusing on it, which was a habit that lived below the level of conscious thought.

What changed was the doors.

Both side doors opened simultaneously.

I stopped walking just then as four men came out fast.

I turned to Kasper and he was already moving but the man behind him was faster and something connected with the back of his head. He went down and I was already moving, shifting my weight, getting my hands up, reading the distance between myself and the nearest man.

He was big and well trained. He came straight at me and didn’t slow down and I took his first grab and redirected it and hit him once cleanly and he absorbed it in a way that told me this was not his first time doing something like this.

The second man came from the side.

I felt the third one behind me a fraction of a second too late.

Something covered my face. Chemical.

I fought it for about four seconds.

Then the street tilted and the light went strange and Kasper’s name was in my mouth but didn’t make it out before the dark came up and took everything.

The last thing I registered was being lifted.

And the van doors closing.