The Grand Regency Hotel’s marble lobby descended into chaos the moment Silas Vane stormed through the revolving doors.

Ten heavily armed men in black tactical gear flanked him, their presence sucking the air out of the luxurious space. Guests around were scared and froze in fear, a woman dropped her shopping bags in horror.

"Mr. Vane, please!" The hotel manager, a middle-aged man in a crisp suit, rushed forward with two attendants trailing desperately behind him. "This is highly irregular! We cannot allow armed men into our guest rooms. Please, sir, calm down! We can discuss whatever issue you have in the private lounge—"

Silas didn’t even slow down. His face was carved from ice and fury. "Room 2804."

"Sir, please!" One attendant begged, stepping in front of him. "We have protocols! If you could just give us a moment to contact the guest—"

Silas’s lead bodyguard shoved the man aside without gentleness. The group moved like a black tide toward the private elevator.

The manager’s voice cracked as he ran after them. "Mr. Vane! This could destroy our reputation! We beg you — there must be another way!"

The elevator doors closed on their desperate pleas.

On the 28th floor, the corridor was silent until it wasn’t.

Silas’s men kicked the door of Room 2804 open with brutal force. The wooden door splintered and the lock shattered.

Santiago sat calmly in the center of the luxurious suite, wearing nothing but a white silk bathing robe. A glass of red wine swirled lazily in his hand. He looked up as if he had been expecting them, a faint, almost amused smile on his lips.

The armed men poured in, weapons raised, forming a perimeter around the room.

Tension crackled in the air like electricity.

Silas stepped inside last, his presence alone making the large suite feel suffocating. He walked straight to the opposite armchair and sat down without invitation, eyes locked on Santiago like a predator.

"Everyone out," Silas ordered his men. "Wait in the hallway."

The men filed out, leaving the two alone.

For a long moment, neither spoke. The silence was thick enough to choke on.

Silas leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Where is Leon?"

Santiago took a slow sip of wine, completely unfazed. "I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. Vane. Leon? The boy from the restaurant? Why would I know where he is?"

Silas’s voice dropped dangerously low. "Don’t play games with me. He was taken from the safe house today. An exceptional professional team extracted him easily and that needed an outsider’s help. You expect me to believe that has nothing to do with you?"

Santiago set his glass down and crossed his legs. "I’m flattered you think I have that kind of power. But I’m just a businessman passing through. I enjoyed talking to the boy about books. Nothing more. Why would I kidnap him?"

Silas’s eyes burned with cold rage. "Because you’ve been circling him for weeks. Because you offered him money. Because you suddenly appeared in my life at the exact same time someone started moving against me. I don’t believe in coincidences."

Santiago smiled faintly. "Paranoia doesn’t suit a man of your stature. I have no reason to take the boy. None at all. Perhaps you should look closer to home. Enemies in your own circle, maybe?"

Silas leaned forward, voice like velvet over a blade. "If I find out you’re involved — even breathing the same air as the people who took him — I will burn everything you own. I will make you watch while I tear your life apart piece by piece."

Santiago met his gaze steadily. "Threats? From the great Silas Vane? I expected better. I truly don’t know where Leon is. If I did, I would tell you. The boy was kind to me. I liked him for that."

The silence stretched as if they both controlled their anger. Silas stared at him for a long, suffocating moment.

Then he stood up abruptly. "This isn’t over."

He turned toward the door, his men already falling in behind him as he stepped into the hallway. But at the threshold, he paused and looked back over his shoulder.

"Oh, and Rocco heir..." Silas said calmly, as if commenting on the weather. "Next time you want to play in my city, choose a better mask."

The door clicked shut behind him and his armed entourage.

Santiago remained seated, wine glass still in hand. But the calm expression on his face had shattered completely.

His fingers tightened around the glass until it cracked. Red wine spilled over his robe like blood.

"Rocco heir..."

The words echoed in the silent room, his breathing became shallow. For the first time in years, real panic flashed across Santiago’s face. He whispered to the empty suite, voice barely audible. "How... how the hell does he know?"

"Rocco heir..." Silas’s parting words echoed in his skull like a gunshot.

He slammed the cracked glass onto the table, red wine spilling across the polished wood like fresh blood. His chest heaved as he grabbed his phone with shaking fingers and dialed a number he rarely used.

The line rang three times before a calm, professional male voice answered. "Young Master Santiago. Is everything alright? You never call this line unless—"

"Is my identity exposed?" Santiago cut in sharply, voice low but urgent. "Tell me right now. Has anyone breached our family’s security? Has the Rocco name been linked to me in any database, any report?"

The man on the other end paused, sounding slightly confused but confident. "No, Young Master. Nothing has been breached. Our firewalls are intact. The Rocco family protocols are still holding. No leaks reported from our end. Your alias remains clean. Why? Has something happened?"

Santiago stood up and began pacing the suite, one hand gripping his hair. "Silas Vane just barged in here with ten armed men. He looked me dead in the eyes and called me ’Rocco heir’ before walking out. How the fuck does he know? If our security is clean, how did he find out?"

The man on the phone sounded genuinely surprised. "That’s... impossible. We’ve had no alerts. No unusual access attempts. Our people in the underworld have heard nothing about any investigation linking you to the Rocco lineage. Perhaps he was bluffing? Trying to rattle you?"

"Bluffing?" Santiago laughed bitterly, voice rising. "Silas Vane doesn’t bluff. He doesn’t waste words. If he said it, he knows something. I need you to double-check everything. Every server, every contact, every person who has ever handled my files. Do it now."

"Understood, Young Master. I’ll run a full diagnostic immediately. But I assure you — nothing has been breached on our side. You should be safe."

Santiago cut the call without another word. He threw the phone onto the couch and resumed pacing, muttering to himself.

"How? How the hell did he find out? I’ve been extremely careful. The Rocco family connections were supposed to be buried deep. No one outside the inner circle should know. Did Viktor sell me out? Is the Emperor playing a longer game? Or has Silas been digging into me since the very first meeting?"

He stopped near the window, staring out at the glittering city lights. His reflection looked pale and haunted.

"I came here to gather information. Not to be exposed like this. If Silas knows I’m connected to the Rocco family... then he knows I’m not just some mysterious businessman. He’ll dig deeper. He’ll connect me to everything."

Santiago’s hands clenched into fists. "Leon... the kidnapping... if Silas links me to that too, I’m finished. My father will drag me back home in chains. Everything I’ve built here will collapse."

He was still muttering when his phone rang again. The same number.

Santiago snatched it up and answered immediately. "What? Did you find something already?"

The man’s voice was no longer calm. It was urgent, almost panicked. "Young Master... I’m sorry. The data was breached yesterday. A sophisticated backdoor attack slipped through our secondary servers. Your identity — the Rocco lineage connection was accessed. It’s been exposed. We only just detected it now."

Santiago froze. The glass of wine he had just picked up slipped from his fingers and shattered on the floor.

"WHAT?!" he roared, voice exploding with fury. "Yesterday?! You’re telling me my identity has been known since yesterday and you didn’t think to inform me immediately?!"

The man stammered on the other end. "We didn’t detect the breach until minutes ago, Young Master. The attack was extremely well-hidden. It looks professional — possibly government level or high-tier underworld. I was about to call you when—"

"Shut up!" Santiago shouted, kicking the broken glass across the room. "You had one job! One fucking job — keep my identity protected! And now Silas Vane is walking around, knowing my identity is a much bigger risk! Do you understand what this means? He knows! He knows who I really am!"

"Young Master, please calm down. We’re already working on damage control. We can—"

"Damage control?" Santiago laughed angrily, pacing faster. "My cover is blown! The one advantage I had in this city is gone! Silas isn’t stupid. He’ll connect me to the kidnapping. He’ll come back here with more than ten men next time. And you — you sat on this information for nearly a full day!"

The man’s voice was trembling now. "I take full responsibility. We will find who breached us and eliminate them. But right now, you need to get out of that hotel. It’s no longer safe."

Santiago stopped pacing, breathing heavily. "Get out? And go where? Silas already knows where I am. He just proved that. Tell my father nothing about this yet. I need time to fix this mess."

He ended the call abruptly and hurled the phone against the wall. It cracked on impact.

Santiago stood in the middle of the luxurious suite, surrounded by shattered glass and spilled wine, his silk robe stained red. He whispered through gritted teeth, voice filled with rage and fear. "Silas Vane... who the hell are you really?"