SILAS
I didn’t bother with the intercom.
I didn’t have the patience.
I just raised my voice, cutting through their little bubble of laughter.
“Frank!”
He snapped his head up, looking startled as I stepped toward the door.
“Change of plans.
Postpone the meeting with Lee.
I’m heading out.”
I stopped in my tracks, pointing at Maya as she watched me through the glass.
“Maya, do not leave this office.”
Frank blinked, looking confused.
“But boss, the policy…
I thought we weren’t allowed to eat at our desks?
We always go to the cafeteria.”
I didn’t care about the damn policy.
I wrote it.
“Consider the rules suspended for today,” I snapped, my hand already on the door handle.
I didn’t have time for his questions.
“If she needs to eat, you bring it to her.
She doesn’t set foot outside.
She stays in this room until I return.
Do you understand?”
I didn’t wait for him to respond.
I walked out.
At the front desk, I didn’t slow down.
“Cynthia.
Maya’s security clearance is to be handled in my office.
She doesn’t need to go down to the security team.
Bring the paperwork and the biometric kit to her.”
”Of course, Mr.
Blackwood,” she replied.
I saw her eyebrows flicker in surprise.
She knew the protocol was for new hires to report to Sub-level 1, but she was smart enough not to question me.
I didn’t head for the main elevators.
Instead, I turned down the short hallway past the reception desk.
To any visitor, it looked like a closet or a utility door, but it stayed locked to everyone but me.
I swiped the ring on my finger against the hidden sensor, and the door clicked open.
Inside was my private room.
It was the only place on this floor where the cameras didn’t record.
I stripped out of the suit and pulled on a black t-shirt, jeans, and a baseball cap.
The transition took less than sixty seconds.
A second door, disguised by the wallpaper, opened to my private elevator.
This lift didn’t stop at the lobby; it went straight to the restricted Exit Zone in the P3 parking level.
I slipped out into the lot where my driver was waiting.
I climbed into the back, the heavy tint on the windows making the garage look even darker.
I slid a black nose mask over my face.
“Warehouse 4,” I said.
“Drive.”
The drive was long.
It took nearly an hour to get away from the city center.
The skyscrapers started to shrink in the rearview mirror as we headed toward the edge of the city.
By the time we pulled up to the rusted doors of Warehouse 4, the air out here smelled like damp concrete and exhaust.
I stepped out of the car, and Tony emerged from the building to meet me.
He looked haggard, like he hadn’t slept in days.
His hair was a mess, and the dark bags under his eyes were visible, standing out against his pale skin.
“Tony,” I said, giving him a firm nod, then a brief handshake.
“Silas,” he replied, his voice raspy.
“What happened?”
”Peter snitched to the port authorities,” Tony explained, wiping a hand over his face.
“It was a close call.
We moved the shipment just five minutes before they swarmed the place.”
”So it was successful?”
”Luckily, yes.
We caught the rat trying to skip town.
He was at the bus station with a bag full of cash and a ticket to the border.
He almost made it, too.
We had to run his car off the road two miles from the station.
He fought back, but my guys handled it.”
I looked at the warehouse doors.
The fact that he tried to run made it even worse.
It meant he knew exactly what he’d done, and he knew what was coming for him.
“A bus station?
He really thought it would be that easy to disappear?” I asked.
“He was desperate,” Tony said, spitting on the gravel.
“He didn’t even have a burner phone on him.
Just the cash and the ticket.
He was terrified, Silas.
Still is.”
”Good,” I said, adjusting my nose mask.
I wanted him to be terrified.
It made the next part much easier.
“Let’s go in.
I need to see the rat.”
The warehouse was freezing.
The place had been abandoned for years, used only for situations like this or for storing assets that needed to stay off the grid.
The floor was littered with shattered glass, broken wooden crates, and heavy coils of industrial chains.
Dust danced in the single beam of light hanging from the high ceiling, the only thing cutting through the dark.
I felt the anger that had been simmering since the office finally find a target.
The shipment was safe, but the betrayal remained.
In the center of the room, Peter was tied to a sturdy wooden chair.
A few of my men, the ones who didn’t exist on any corporate payroll stood in the shadows.
Their faces were hard, their arms crossed.
These weren’t the men in suits Maya saw every day.
These were the men who kept the city running in the dark.
I recognized Peter immediately.
He had been in charge of the southern docks, overseeing the logistics of our heavy-freight arrivals.
He knew the schedules, the routes, and every blind spot in the port’s security.
He was a man I had actually trusted.
I walked toward him, my boots crunching on the glass and debris.
Peter’s head was down, but as my shadow fell over him, he began to shake.
He didn’t need to see my face to know who was standing there.
“Peter,” I said.
His name echoed through the empty warehouse, making him flinch as if I’d struck him.
He let out a shaky gasp, but he still didn’t look up.
“Look at me,” I commanded.