I was seconds away from placing a diamond ring on my bride's finger when a barefoot three-year-old girl ran down the aisle and screamed for me not to marry her.

The night over the Strait of Gibraltar was a maelstrom of salt spray and gale-force winds. Rain lashed against the armored windows of our tactical fast-attack vessel as we cut through ten-foot swells, flanked by two armed Vance security cutters.

Ahead of us, the towering silhouette of the *Vance Goliath*—a three-hundred-meter container ship—loomed against the storm clouds. It had been forcibly halted, surrounded by four unmarked gunboats.

Through the darkness, an emergency floodlight swept across our bridge, followed by a voice broadcasting over the open maritime frequency.

"Ethan Vance. Power down your thrusters and step onto the lower deck. Let us speak before the sea swallows your legacy."

The voice was not that of an old man, nor a thug. It was melodic, refined, and distinctly female, carrying a cool British accent that mocked the roaring gale.

Elena and I stepped out onto the rain-lashed forward deck, secured by safety harnesses, the freezing spray drenching our tactical gear.

On the bridge-wing of the nearest gunboat stood a woman in an oilskin coat, her auburn hair whipping in the wind. She held no weapon, only an antique silver pocket watch bearing the dual-headed serpent.

"I am Morgana Croft," she shouted over the roar of the engines. "Director of Logistics for the Levantine Compass."

"Call off your wolves, Morgana!" I shouted back, my hand resting on the rail, behind me my tactical team training laser sights onto her bridge. "Berth 4 is dead. Victor Delacroix is dead. You have no authority in these waters!"

"Victor was a thief who mistook greed for vision!" Morgana laughed, a clear, ringing sound that defied the storm. "He tried to keep the ledger for himself. But you, Ethan... you possess the bloodline and the spine to lead. Your father understood order. He knew the world doesn't run on stock markets; it runs on the shadow fleets that feed them!"

"My father died trying to break free from your parasite council!" I retorted.

"He died because he was weak!" Morgana stepped closer to the railing, her eyes locking onto Elena with sharp, disdainful venom. "Join the Council, Ethan. Take Victor’s vacant seat. Surrender the child’s biometric cipher to the Order, and we will grant you uncontested sovereignty over every port from Rotterdam to Singapore. Refuse... and tonight, your wife and daughter drown in the depths of your own hubris."