Chapter 55: Credentials And Cover Ups

The security guards escorted them back through the masquerade ball, where the festivities continued unabated.

Kane felt the karmic seal burning hotter with each step—Cyrus was agitated, perhaps even frustrated.

"Any idea what this is about?" Kane whispered to Bob as they were led in different directions.

Bob shook his head, his expression grim beneath his mask. "Nothing good. Father only summons me like this when he’s displeased."

The guard directed Kane toward a private lounge area cordoned off from the main ballroom.

Through the glass partition, Kane spotted Cyrus standing rigidly beside Bernard Holloway.

Even behind his elegant black mask, Cyrus’s displeasure radiated like heat from a furnace.

As Kane approached, the seal throbbed painfully against his chest. Something had definitely gone wrong.

"Ah, Mr. Ashwood," Bernard said, his voice dripping with false cordiality.

"How kind of you to join us after your... enlightening conversation with my son."

Cyrus’s eyes locked with Kane’s, and the message was clear: they’d been compromised somehow.

"I believe," Bernard continued, removing his mask with a theatrical flourish, "that you and Mr. Veyr have been less than forthcoming about your interest in my collection. Perhaps you’d care to explain why a Bureau agent is aboard my ship?"

Kane’s heart dropped like a stone in deep water. His mind scrambled for explanations, but Bernard’s smug grin said he already had the answers.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," Kane said, forcing a confused laugh. "I’m just Cyrus’s assistant."

Bernard’s smile widened as he produced a tablet and turned it toward them. On screen was Kane’s Bureau ID photo alongside his official credentials.

"My security team is quite thorough, Mr. Ashwood. Or should I say, Agent Ashwood?"

Cyrus stepped forward, radiating cold intent. "Bernard, whatever game you’re playing—"

"No games, Mr. Veyr." Bernard raised his hand dismissively.

"Just clarity. You see, I appreciate knowing exactly who’s sitting at my table."

Bob entered the lounge, looking between them with growing concern.

"Father, what’s happening?"

Bernard ignored his son, keeping his attention fixed on Kane and Cyrus.

"Now, gentlemen, we have two options. You can leave the ship at our next port... or we can discuss why the Bureau of Supernatural Affairs is so interested in my little collection."

The karmic seal burned against Kane’s chest, mirroring the tension crackling between them.

Kane could feel Cyrus’s rage beneath his composed exterior—a volcanic pressure building behind that impassive mask.

His mind whirled with desperate escape plans, each more implausible than the last.

How had Bernard discovered his BSA connection? A leak at the Bureau? Someone tracking their movements?

He opened his mouth to fabricate some explanation, but Cyrus stepped forward, cutting him off with a subtle hand gesture.

"Impressive research, Bernard," Cyrus said, his voice glacier-cold. "Though I’m disappointed you’d resort to such theatrics."

Kane’s pulse hammered against the karmic seal. Whatever Cyrus was doing, he hoped it wouldn’t make things worse.

"I’ve never hidden my interest in rare artifacts," Cyrus continued.

"And I employ people with various backgrounds. Agent Ashwood’s previous employment is precisely why I hired him—his expertise in identifying counterfeit spiritual items is unmatched."

Bernard’s triumphant expression faltered slightly.

"You expect me to believe the Bureau just let him walk away to work for you?"

"The Bureau," Cyrus said with dangerous softness, "doesn’t control where former agents go after they resign."

Kane kept his face carefully blank, following Cyrus’s lead while his mind raced. Former agent? Resigned? The lie was bold—and completely unverifiable while they were at sea.

Cyrus reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, eyes never leaving Bernard’s.

"Perhaps we should clear this up immediately." He dialed, putting the call on speaker.

"Veyr Corp HR department," a crisp female voice answered.

"This is Cyrus Veyr. I need employment verification for Kane Ashwood."

"One moment, sir." The line went silent briefly.

"Kane Ashwood, hired eight months ago following completion of his master’s program. Previously employed with the Bureau of Supernatural Affairs for two years before his resignation."

"And his current position?"

"Executive Assistant to the CEO."

"Thank you." Cyrus ended the call, raising an eyebrow at Bernard.

The corners of Bernard’s mouth twitched, the mask of confidence slipping just enough to be noticed.

He examined the screen Cyrus had turned toward him, displaying Kane’s employee file with timestamps dating back months.

"I don’t appreciate having my staff’s credentials questioned," Cyrus said coldly. "Especially when we’re guests on your ship."

Kane stood frozen, watching Cyrus’s masterful performance unfold.

He’d known the dragon was thorough, but fabricating an entire employment history—complete with backdated files and a ready HR department primed to confirm his cover story? That was next-level preparation. ℴℴ𝘮

Bernard’s expression shifted from triumphant to calculating as Cyrus continued.

"Now that we’ve cleared up this misunderstanding," Cyrus said, straightening his cuffs, "perhaps we should return to our earlier discussion about your private auction."

Bernard’s forced smile returned. "Of course. Just a misunderstanding between collectors."

Cyrus inclined his head slightly, a gesture of polite interest masking the intensity beneath.

"Speaking of your collection, Bernard, I’d be particularly interested in examining this chalice you mentioned earlier. I could offer a very competitive price for such a piece."

Bernard’s smile widened, revealing teeth too white and perfect to be natural.

"My dear Mr. Drakahl, while I appreciate your directness, you must understand you’re not the only interested party." He swirled the amber liquid in his glass.

"The chalice is to be the centerpiece of my auction."

"Surely everything has its price," Cyrus pressed, his voice smooth as silk but with steel underneath.

Bernard chuckled, leaning back in his chair.

"Indeed it does. And the price of this particular item will be determined by the bidding floor, not in a private negotiation." He gestured expansively.

"Business is business, after all. Why settle for one buyer’s offer when I can have several competing for the privilege?"

Kane watched the subtle tightening around Cyrus’s eyes—the only visible sign of his frustration.

Bob shifted uncomfortably, glancing between his father and Kane.

"Maybe," Bob interjected, "we could at least show Mr. Veyr the chalice? As a courtesy to our distinguished guest?"

Bernard shot his son a look of irritation. "The auction items remain secured until the event."

Cyrus nodded, his expression unreadable behind his mask.

"I understand completely. I look forward to your auction, then." He placed a hand on Kane’s shoulder, grip firm.

"Let’s go, Kane." They departed, leaving Bernard’s satisfied smirk behind them.