Part 2 – The Traitor Behind the Black Suit
Part 2 – The Traitor Behind the Black Suit
Victor Callaway did not answer immediately.
Instead, he looked into Emily Parker's eyes.
People lied to him every day.
Politicians lied because they wanted favors.
Businessmen lied because they wanted contracts.
Enemies lied because they wanted time.
Employees lied because they wanted to stay alive.
But fear had its own language.
Emily wasn't trying to convince him.
She was trying to survive.
"Open the garage," Victor said quietly.
Marcus Reed frowned.
"Boss?"
"You heard me."
Within seconds, two guards hurried toward the underground garage while Marcus followed, his expression unreadable.
Emily stood frozen in the foyer.
She expected someone to drag her away.
Instead, Victor looked over his shoulder.
"You."
She swallowed.
"Come with me."
The elevator descended in complete silence.
Victor stood with his hands in his coat pockets.
Marcus stood beside him, perfectly calm.
Emily stayed against the back wall, unable to stop her hands from trembling.
She could feel Marcus watching her.
Not openly.
Just enough to let her know he remembered her face.
The elevator doors opened.
The garage smelled of gasoline and wet concrete.
Victor's black armored SUV sat exactly where it always did.
One of the guards crouched beneath it.
A second later he froze.
His flashlight stopped moving.
"Boss..."
Victor didn't speak.
The guard slowly crawled backward.
His face had gone completely pale.
"There is something attached to the chassis."
Marcus stepped forward.
"What?"
The guard pointed beneath the vehicle.
"A magnetic device."
Victor's eyes shifted toward Marcus.
Only for a second.
Marcus looked genuinely surprised.
Or he was the greatest actor Victor had ever met.
"Bomb squad," Victor ordered.
"No one touches it."
Twenty-three minutes later, the underground garage was surrounded by police explosives experts.
Victor watched from behind a concrete pillar.
Emily sat alone on a folding chair wrapped in a gray blanket someone had given her.
She hadn't stopped shaking.
A technician emerged wearing protective gear.
"The device is real."
Silence.
"It contains military-grade explosives."
Another technician added quietly,
"If the engine had completed a second ignition cycle..."
He looked at Victor.
"...there wouldn't have been enough left to identify the driver."
Even Marcus looked disturbed.
Or pretended to.
Victor said nothing.
He simply turned and walked away.
Inside his private office, only three people remained.
Victor.
Dominic Reyes.
Marcus Reed.
Dominic broke the silence.
"Someone knew the vehicle rotation."
Marcus nodded.
"Only senior staff had access."
Victor poured himself a glass of water.
Not whiskey.
Water.
His hands were too steady for alcohol.
"List everyone."
Marcus handed him a tablet.
"There are nine people."
Victor scanned the names.
Drivers.
Mechanics.
Security supervisors.
Operations.
Nobody unexpected.
Nobody careless.
Marcus leaned forward.
"I'll question everyone tonight."
Victor looked up.
"No."
Marcus blinked.
"I'll do it."
Across the city...
Emily finally arrived home after midnight.
Her apartment building looked exactly as it always had.
Old bricks.
Broken mailbox.
One flickering hallway light.
She unlocked the door quietly.
Her mother was asleep on the couch.
The television still played with the volume low.
Emily covered her with a blanket.
Only then did she allow herself to cry.
She hadn't cried when she found the bomb.
She hadn't cried when police questioned her.
She hadn't cried while Marcus stared at her.
Now she couldn't stop.
Because she knew one thing.
If Marcus really had planted that bomb...
He knew she had spoken.
The next morning...
Victor never went home.
Instead, he sat alone in the surveillance room beneath Callaway Manor.
Dozens of monitors covered one wall.
Every hallway.
Every entrance.
Every garage camera.
Every employee corridor.
He rewound yesterday's recordings.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Then something caught his eye.
At 5:47 a.m.
Emily entered through the service entrance.
Normal.
At 5:52.
She walked toward the laundry room.
Normal.
At 5:54...
She stopped.
Looked toward the garage door.
Stayed perfectly still.
Victor watched carefully.
Even without sound...
He could see it.
She wasn't acting.
She had heard something.
She stood there for nearly four minutes before quietly backing away.
Victor replayed the footage six times.
Each viewing told the same story.
Emily hadn't invented anything.
She had discovered it.
Later that afternoon...
Marcus entered Victor's office.
"I questioned everyone."
Victor looked up.
"I told you not to."
Marcus smiled slightly.
"I thought speed mattered."
Victor closed the file in front of him.
"What did you find?"
"Nothing."
"No one saw anything."
"No unusual activity."
"No missing equipment."
Marcus crossed his arms.
"The maid probably misunderstood what she heard."
Victor didn't answer.
Marcus continued.
"Fear changes memories."
Still silence.
Finally Victor asked,
"How long have you worked for me?"
"Twelve years."
"How many times have I accused you of lying?"
Marcus frowned.
"Never."
Victor nodded.
"So don't make me start."
Marcus's smile disappeared.
That evening...
Victor ordered a complete audit of every employee.
Financial records.
Phone records.
Travel history.
Unexpected purchases.
Hidden debts.
Dominic looked confused.
"You think someone inside sold us out?"
Victor looked toward the rain outside.
"I think someone trusted enough to stand beside me planted a bomb under my car."
Meanwhile...
Emily didn't go to work.
She received a call instead.
Unknown number.
She hesitated.
Then answered.
"Hello?"
No voice.
Only breathing.
Then a man whispered.
"You should've minded your own business."
Click.
The line went dead.
Emily's blood turned cold.
Ten minutes later...
Someone knocked on her apartment door.
Three slow knocks.
Her mother looked up.
"Emily?"
Emily approached quietly.
"Who is it?"
No answer.
Another knock.
She looked through the peephole.
Nobody.
She opened the door a crack.
A small cardboard box sat on the floor.
No return address.
Inside...
A black cleaning glove.
Covered in fresh blood.
Emily screamed.
At that exact moment...
Victor's phone rang.
Dominic answered before handing it over.
"It's urgent."
Victor listened.
His expression changed instantly.
"Where?"
He stood up.
"I'm coming."
Twenty minutes later...
Victor walked into the apartment building in Pilsen.
Neighbors watched from cracked apartment doors.
Police officers filled the hallway.
Emily sat on the staircase wrapped in another blanket.
She looked smaller than Victor remembered.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
As though one terrible night had stolen years from her life.
Victor dismissed everyone else.
Finally they were alone.
"I'm sorry," Emily whispered.
Victor frowned.
"For what?"
"I caused this."
"No."
She lowered her head.
"If I hadn't said anything..."
"You'd be planning my funeral."
She looked up.
Victor continued quietly,
"You saved my life."
Emily couldn't answer.
"You also put yourself in danger."
He glanced toward the evidence bag containing the bloody glove.
"They're sending you a message."
Emily nodded.
"I know."
Victor looked toward the hallway.
Then made a decision that shocked every officer present.
"Pack your things."
Emily blinked.
"What?"
"You're leaving."
"I can't."
"You are."
"My mother—"
"She comes too."
Emily stared at him.
Victor's voice remained calm.
"Until I know who betrayed me..."
"...you're under my protection."
Back at Callaway Manor...
The staff couldn't believe what they were seeing.
The maid arrived through the front entrance.
Not the servants' entrance.
Victor himself escorted her inside.
Her mother followed behind.
Every guard watched.
Every employee whispered.
Marcus Reed stood at the top of the staircase.
His face remained perfectly expressionless.
But his eyes...
His eyes never left Emily.
Victor noticed.
For the first time in twelve years...
Victor wondered whether the man standing beside him in a black suit had been planning his funeral all along.
May you like
Outside the mansion, thunder rolled across the Chicago sky.
Inside, the real war had just begun.
