Chapter 8 - The Betrayal Within
The documents inside the manila folder weren't federal indictment papers from Agent Vance. They were internal financial audits, intercepted wire transfers, and encrypted communications proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that the person leaking Adrian’s shipping manifests to the federal prosecutors wasn't an outside rival.
It was Victor Vance.
Adrian’s trusted legal counsel, his oldest advisor, and the brother of the federal prosecutor targeting him had been systematically sabotaging the Moretti shipping empire from the inside out for eighteen months, setting Adrian up to take the fall for massive racketeering charges so Victor could seize control of the syndicate assets.
"My God," Claire whispered, her hands trembling as she clutched the papers.
Suddenly, the heavy studio door creaked open.
Claire spun around, dropping the folder.
Standing in the doorway wasn't Adrian.
It was Victor Vance.
His immaculate suit jacket was buttoned, his rimless glasses gleaming under the studio lights, and in his right hand, he held a sleek, silenced Walther PPK pistol pointed directly at Claire’s chest.
The polite, professional legal counsel was gone. In his place stood a cold, calculating killer.
"Well, well, Mrs. Donovan," Victor said smoothly, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. "Curiosity really does kill the cat. Or in this case, the highly resourceful nanny."
Claire backed up slowly until her legs hit the edge of an easel. "Victor... you're working with your brother to frame Adrian."
"Working with my brother?" Victor let out a dry, chilling laugh. "Daniel is just a useful idiot in the local district attorney's office. I'm the one pulling the strings, Mrs. Donovan. For ten years, I built the Moretti empire alongside Adrian’s father, while Adrian sat on his high horse playing mob boss with a bleeding heart. He’s soft. He’s distracted by ghosts and children. He doesn't have the stomach to rule anymore."
"Adrian trusts you," Claire said, her voice shaking as she tried to keep her hand near her pocket where her phone rested.
"Trust is a luxury for fools," Victor stepped closer, raising the pistol slightly. "And unfortunately, you've seen things that cannot be un-seen. When Adrian returns from the secure warehouse—which, by the way, my men are currently surrounding—he’ll find his precious new nanny locked in this room with a self-inflicted gunshot wound and a suicide note confessing to the federal leaks."
"You're insane," Claire breathed, sliding her fingers into her pocket, desperately unlocking her phone screen without looking down.
May you like
"I'm pragmatic," Victor corrected coldly. "Now, step away from the desk, Mrs. Donovan. Let's make this quick and painless."
As Victor raised the weapon to take aim, the studio door suddenly burst open with a deafening crash.
