The atmosphere inside the interrogation room was suffocatingly tense, as if the air itself refused to move.
The neon light above the table flickered faintly, producing a low hum that made anyone’s head feel heavy.
Braddy sat on a cold metal chair, his hands still cuffed to the table.
Across from him sat a police officer with a rigid expression—Captain Raymond Cluv, a man in his forties with sharp eyes and a deeply skeptical demeanor.
On the other side of the room, Theresia sat in silence.
Her face was pale, her eyes swollen from crying and lack of sleep.
She had just been informed that her son, Felix, was still unconscious in the hospital.
The gunshot wound in his right thigh had caused severe blood loss, and the doctors said his chances of recovery were still uncertain.
“Alright, Mr. Braddy,” Captain Raymond began, opening the file in front of him.
“You claim to be a private detective. Can you name the agency you work for?”
Braddy let out a long breath.
“I don’t work for an official agency.
My team and I take contracts on a project basis—independent.”
“So you don’t have formal operational authorization?”
“We have personal permits, but we’re not tied to any permanent organization,” Braddy replied calmly.
He knew every word he said could become a trap.
Captain Raymond stared at him for a moment.
“You claim that you and your team were hired to protect a young man named Felix and his mother, Mrs.
Theresia?”
“That’s correct.”
“However,” the captain leaned forward, “the reality is that you and your team were seen carrying weapons, engaging in a firefight, and now one of the victims is in critical condition.
That’s not protection, Mr.
Braddy.
That’s an armed operation.”
Braddy swallowed.
The room suddenly felt hotter.
He knew the truth wouldn’t be easy for anyone to accept—but one wrong move could land him in prison for years.
“We were there to ensure Felix’s safety,” Braddy said at last.
“But the situation escalated.
We were attacked first.”
“By whom?”
“That’s the problem.
We don’t know yet.
But they were clearly targeting Felix.
He was their primary objective.”
Theresia turned sharply, her face tightening.
“Why my son, Mr. Braddy? Who would want to hurt Felix?”
Braddy glanced at her briefly, then shifted his gaze back to Captain Raymond.
“I think she knows more about that than I do.
I was just hired.”
“Hired by whom?”
The question came fast—like a second bullet.
“The Terano family,” Braddy answered.
The name seemed to freeze the air.
Captain Raymond’s eyes sharpened.
“The Terano family?” he repeated flatly.
“Are you certain about this statement?”
“Yes. I received the contract directly from someone named Christine Wheeler.”
Braddy deliberately mentioned Christine.
He had sensed she was playing a major role behind the illegal operations, though he was still trying not to involve his mother.
“She contacted me,” Braddy continued.
“She said they were looking for a girl named Florentina, and I was hired to ensure she was brought back to their residence.”
Captain Raymond tapped his fingers on the table.
“And you don’t know why they were looking for this girl?”
“No.
They never explained.
Our task was simple: bring Florentina in.
We weren’t allowed to ask questions.”
“So you transported someone without knowing the reason?
Without ensuring her safety?” Raymond scoffed.
“That sounds more like kidnapping than protection.”
Braddy fell silent.
He felt the moral weight pressing down on him, yet deep inside he knew the situation wasn’t that simple.
He remembered the night Celestine was furious over his failure to bring Flora.
Christine had mocked him.
He also remembered how Christine called him “stupid” when he failed to capture Felix—acting like the true boss with ultimate authority.
She shouldn’t have treated him that way.
She was only his mother’s niece, while he was her biological son.
By position, he should have been above her.
His mind drifted further back—to his mother’s words: *“Peter is the rightful heir to Dex Enterprise.”*
Peter—the second son.
While Braddy, the firstborn, should have been the primary heir.
All this time, his father had trusted him with tasks no one else could handle, while Peter lived a carefree life, wasting money.
Braddy never understood his mother’s decision.
Meanwhile, at the city hospital, the tension was no less intense.
Felix lay on a white bed, an IV line attached to his arm.
His thigh was tightly bandaged.
The bleeding had stopped, but his condition remained unstable.
Doctors said the bullet had pierced the bone and damaged muscle tissue.
Recovery could take months—if he survived the night.
Outside the ICU, a nurse called Theresia to sign additional treatment documents.
She had just come from the police station, her eyes swollen from exhaustion and despair.
Braddy arrived a few minutes later, escorted by two officers watching from a distance.
He wasn’t free—just temporarily allowed to provide further statements to the victim’s family.
Theresia looked at him with raw emotion.
“You said you were protecting us. But my son is lying there like that! Who are you really protecting, Mr. Braddy?”
Braddy stared at Felix through the glass.
“I understand your anger, ma’am. But believe me—Felix was their main target. They wanted to use him to lure Florentina out. If I had been their target, I wouldn’t be standing here right now.”
Theresia narrowed her eyes.
“What do you mean? Florentina? What does she have to do with Felix?”
Braddy took a deep breath.
“I only know part of it.
But from our investigation, Florentina seems to possess something important—possibly documents or data linked to the Terano family business.
They’re trying to retrieve it.
When they couldn’t find her, they went after the closest person to her.”
“And that’s Felix?” Theresia’s voice trembled.
“Yes,” Braddy said softly.
“Florentina is just a pharmacy employee.
What does she have to do with Dex Enterprise?”
“Felix is her older brother.
They see him as leverage.”
Theresia closed her eyes, holding back tears.
“Oh God… my son knows nothing about any of this…”
Braddy didn’t respond.
He simply stood there, watching Felix’s fragile figure behind the glass.
A heavy sense of guilt stirred within him—stronger than anything he had ever felt before.
As evening turned into night, a light rain fell over the city.
The sky was gray, and the streets were lined with headlights forming long glowing streams like veins pulsing through a tired city.
At the police station, tension escalated further.
Captain Raymond received a new report: one of the vehicles used by Braddy’s team had been found near an old warehouse in the northern district—and inside were documents and illegal weapons.
Raymond summoned Braddy back to the interrogation room.
“We found a car near the woods,” he said flatly.
“And we found something inside.”
Braddy looked at him sharply.
“Something?”
“Documents showing transactions between ‘Christine Wheeler’ and someone named Patrick Lorse. Do you know that name?”
Braddy shook his head firmly.
“No. Who is he?”
Raymond gave a faint smile.
“We just found out ourselves. Patrick Lorse is Christine Wheeler’s boyfriend. He’s been linked to several illegal businesses—corporate data trafficking, light weapon smuggling, and international property fraud. It appears Florentina has evidence connecting them.”
Braddy froze.
For the first time, the pieces began to fall into place.
Raymond leaned in.
“Now you understand why I don’t trust your story so easily.
You might just be a pawn in their game.”
“No,” Braddy replied quickly.
“I don’t know anything about Patrick or those documents. I was just following a contract.”
Raymond sighed.
“And that’s exactly the problem. Facts can turn in an instant. Today you claim to be a protector—tomorrow you might look like an accomplice. In a world like this, there are no clear lines.”
Braddy fell silent.
The words hit hard—because deep down, he knew Raymond was right.
He was caught between two sides—doing his job without knowing the truth.
And now that truth was beginning to reveal its darker face.
Late that night, Theresia sat again in the hospital waiting room, clutching a small rosary.
Her eyes were fixed on the ICU door that had yet to open.
Braddy approached her once more, this time without handcuffs.
The police had temporarily released him, on the condition he didn’t leave the city.
“How is Felix?” he asked softly.
Theresia shook her head.
“The same. The doctor said the bullet nearly hit an artery. If it had shifted even slightly, my son would be dead.”
Her voice was hoarse, but beneath it was a strange strength—the kind only a mother has.
She looked at Braddy coldly.
“If this is really the Terano family’s doing, I won’t stay silent. I know Celestine. I know how she operates.”
Braddy looked at her in surprise.
“You know Celestine Terano?”
Theresia lowered her gaze.
“Before all this… I worked for them.”
“Worked?”
“As an insurance agent in their company for almost five years.
I left after discovering something I shouldn’t have seen.”
“What was it?” Braddy pressed.
Theresia stared ahead, as if seeing a buried past.
“A secret project—files of fake transactions under fictitious companies. I’m sure Florentina knows nothing about it. She was still in junior high at the time.”
Silence filled the space.
Braddy studied her, then asked quietly, “Do you know how involved Christine is in those fake companies?”
Theresia nodded.
“I don’t know her exact role. But she’s Celestine’s trusted person. I’m sure she knows more of Celestine’s hidden secrets.”
The truth struck Braddy like a storm.
Everything he had done—every mission, every order, everything he thought was “just work”—was part of a much larger scheme to cover up something far darker.
A few hours later, Braddy stood outside the hospital, staring at the night sky lit only by streetlights.
He lit a cigarette, but the smoke tasted bitter.
His phone buzzed with a message from an unknown number.
> “Stay out of this, Braddy. You’ve already been paid to keep quiet. If not, you’ll end up like Felix.”
> —C.T.
Braddy clenched his phone tightly.
His body tensed.
He knew exactly who it was from.
Christine Terano.
And for the first time, he truly realized—
This game was far from over.
The truth had turned, and now **he** was the target.
He looked up toward the ICU window on the second floor, where Theresia still sat unmoving.
In his heart, Braddy made a vow—
**he would turn this game around.**
Not for money.
Not for orders.
But to atone for every mistake he had made.