Snickers and outright laughter spread across the room. Some soldiers murmured their agreement, pointing at me as if I were a cornered mark.
I ground my teeth together, forcing myself to remain composed. “Those images mean nothing. My dealings with them were strictly business—alliances, nothing else.”
“Business, you say?” Celeste scoffed, picking up the photograph from the floor—the one showing a man’s arm around my waist as we entered the office. “Then explain this one. How do you justify it?”
She leaned closer, lips twisted in cruel amusement. “This comes from a crystal vid. Should I show everyone the full sequence?”
I studied the image for a heartbeat, then suddenly laughed, low and relieved. The man in the picture wasn’t a rival don—it was my older brother, testing me during initiation training.
That night, I stumbled back to my apartment, drunk with frustration and humiliation. I meant to call Sebastian to come fetch me—but instead, I ended up calling my brother.