"The most effective lies are the ones people desperately want to believe."
---
Russia woke up hungry.
Hungry for gossip.
Hungry for scandal.
Hungry for blood.
And by sunrise—
someone had fed the entire country.
---
The first photograph appeared online at 6:07 a.m.
A grainy image.
Yet unmistakable.
Mikhail Dragunov entering Aurélie Delacroix's penthouse late at night.
Alone.
---
By 6:18 a.m., the second photograph surfaced.
Aurélie standing close beside him.
Far too close.
Her hand lightly touching his tie.
His gaze fixed on her.
---
By 6:31 a.m.
The third photograph exploded across media outlets.
Champagne.
Private conversation.
Late hours.
Dangerous proximity.
---
The headlines wrote themselves.
---
HEIR RETURNS TO FORMER LOVER
DRAGUNOV DYNASTY IN CRISIS
ROMANOVA REPLACED?
AURÉLIE DELACROIX RETURNS
---
The internet erupted.
The elite erupted.
The dynasty erupted.
---
Exactly as planned.
---
North of Russia
Inside the secure hotel.
Mikhail stood before a wall of screens.
Watching.
Waiting.
Calculating.
---
The photographs continued spreading.
Millions of views.
Thousands of comments.
Panic.
Speculation.
Chaos.
---
His expression never changed.
Because this wasn't a disaster.
It was bait.
---
A trap.
---
The Frost Predator watched the world chase shadows.
While he hunted something much larger.
---
Behind him—
Nikolai entered.
Coffee in hand.
Mildly irritated.
As usual.
---
"You started a war before breakfast."
---
Mikhail didn't look away from the screens.
---
"They're reacting."
---
Nikolai sighed.
---
"Of course they are."
---
A pause.
---
"Half the country thinks you're running away with Aurélie."
---
A cold smile appeared.
---
"Good."
---
Nikolai immediately narrowed his eyes.
Because there it was.
The confirmation.
---
The scandal wasn't an accident.
---
It never had been.
---
"You leaked the photographs."
---
Silence.
---
Which was answer enough.
---
Nikolai laughed.
Once.
Disbelieving.
---
"You're insane."
---
"No."
---
Mikhail finally turned.
Ice-blue eyes calm.
Dangerous.
Focused.
---
"I'm distracting them."
---
The answer made perfect sense.
Which somehow made it worse.
---
Because while everyone chased romance—
Mikhail chased ghosts.
---
Inside her suite.
Maria stared at the headlines.
Again.
And again.
And again.
---
The photographs felt wrong.
Not because of Aurélie.
Not because of the scandal.
Because of him.
---
Mikhail hated attention.
Hated public drama.
Hated unpredictability.
---
Yet somehow—
there he was.
Standing beside Aurélie.
Again.
---
Maria lowered her phone.
Confused.
Frustrated.
Unexpectedly hurt.
---
She hated that feeling immediately.
---
Because she had bigger problems.
Much bigger problems.
---
Yet one question refused to disappear.
---
Was everything between them merely responsibility?
---
The thought lingered.
Poisonous.
---
Meanwhile.
At her penthouse.
Aurélie sat comfortably beside the window.
Watching the media storm unfold.
---
A glass of wine rested in her hand.
This time—
she actually drank it.
---
Her phone had not stopped ringing for hours.
Reporters.
Investors.
Socialites.
Friends.
Enemies.
Former lovers.
Everyone wanted answers.
---
Aurélie smiled.
---
People always preferred scandal over truth.
---
Which made them easy to manipulate.
---
The amusing part?
Most of the photographs were real.
Nothing staged.
Nothing fabricated.
---
Only their meaning had changed.
---
She admired that.
---
A very Mikhail move.
---
Cold.
Efficient.
Ruthless.
---
And somewhere deep inside—
she enjoyed seeing the world believe he belonged to her again.
Even temporarily.
Even falsely.
---
Dangerous thought.
---
Very dangerous.
---
Paris.
A private intelligence analyst uploaded a new photograph.
Anonymously.
Without explanation.
Without warning.
---
Within minutes—
the image spread everywhere.
---
Not Mikhail.
Not Aurélie.
---
A photograph taken more than twenty years ago.
---
The quality was old.
Faded.
Weathered.
---
Yet the faces remained visible.
---
Maria's mother.
Mikhail's mother.
Standing together.
Smiling.
Alive.
Unaware of the future.
---
The internet immediately exploded.
Because there was someone standing between them.
---
A child.
---
Except the child's face had been deliberately scratched away.
Destroyed.
Removed.
Erased.
---
Beneath the photograph—
only one sentence appeared.
---
WHO WAS THE SECOND CHILD?
---
Silence swept through every intelligence office connected to the dynasty.
---
Inside the hotel.
Nikolai slowly lowered the photograph.
---
"What the hell..."
---
Even Mikhail stared.
Longer than usual.
---
Because he recognized something.
---
Not the child.
The handwriting.
---
Someone had written that caption intentionally.
Someone who understood the past.
Someone close enough to know what mattered.
---
Someone sending messages.
Again.
---
The ghost.
---
Mikhail's jaw tightened.
---
The enemy was no longer reacting.
---
The enemy was participating.
---
Which meant the game had changed.
---
Outside.
Snow began falling across Russia.
Silent.
Relentless.
Unforgiving.
---
And somewhere in the darkness—
a woman watched the scandal unfold.
Watched the photograph spread.
Watched the dynasty panic.
---
Then she smiled.
---
Because the second child was finally becoming important again.
---
Suddenly .
For several moments, she simply watched the final photograph circulating across the internet.
Mikhail.
Aurélie.
Standing together beneath glittering lights.
Most people saw scandal.
Most people saw gossip.
Most people saw an old romance returning to life.
But she noticed something else.
The tiara.
A delicate crown of diamonds resting upon Aurélie's head.
A harmless accessory to ordinary eyes.
A warning to the right ones.
The woman's smile slowly disappeared.
Because somewhere, hidden among the enemies of the Dragunov dynasty—
that single photograph had already caused panic.
Not because of Aurélie.
Not because of Mikhail.
But because symbols still mattered.
And crowns always attracted challengers.
Her gaze remained fixed on the screen.
Then, for the first time that night—
she whispered:
"He's finally acting like an heir."
Silence followed.
Cold.
Heavy.
Foreboding.
And across Europe—
more than one powerful enemy suddenly began making phone calls.
---
**BLACKOUT.**
💬
> The scandal was never about Aurélie...
> It was about distracting everyone from the real question
>The ghost is moving...
But so is the Frost Predator. 🥶👑