Chapter 13 - The Betrayal in the Parking Garage|
Declan refused to believe the photograph without verification.
Marcus had been his closest security adviser for more than a decade. He had saved Declan's life twice, handled emergencies without panic, and stood beside him during the worst years of the family business.
But the image showed him speaking privately with Peter Reed, a man who had worked for Raymond Kessler.
Declan called Marcus into the study.
“Do you know where your brother is?”
Marcus's expression changed.
“Peter? I haven't spoken to him in months.”
Declan placed the photograph on the desk.
“Explain this.”
Marcus studied it.
For a moment, he looked genuinely confused. Then his jaw tightened.
“I can explain the meeting. I cannot explain the ring.”
“Go on.”
“Peter contacted me after the shooting. He claimed he had information about Kessler and wanted to meet somewhere public. I went because I thought I could get something useful. He told me he knew who ordered the attack, but he refused to give me a name.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because he wanted money.”
Declan stared at him.
“You should have told me anyway.”
“I know.”
“Did you pay him?”
“No.”
“Did you give him anything?”
“Nothing except a warning that he should speak to the police.”
Sophia watched Marcus carefully. He looked angry, but not frightened. That didn't prove his innocence, yet it made her question whether the photograph told the whole story.
“Could the image have been taken out of context?” she asked.
Marcus nodded.
“The meeting lasted less than five minutes. I left when Peter refused to cooperate.”
Declan stood.
“Until we verify everything, you're off security duty.”
Marcus's face tightened.
“Understood.”
He placed his access card on the desk and left without another word.
Sophia turned toward Declan.
“You didn't accuse him of helping Kessler.”
“I didn't clear him, either.”
“That's fair.”
Declan looked troubled.
“If Marcus is involved, I have a serious problem. If he's not, someone is trying to make me distrust the people closest to me.”
“Which would benefit whoever wants you isolated.”
He nodded.
The following day, Sophia returned to the tailor shop for the first time since the shooting. The police had finished their initial examination, and the landlord had repaired the damaged door. Dust covered the cutting table. Several bolts of fabric had been moved, and the mirror near the fitting platform was cracked.
Sophia stood in the doorway, overwhelmed by the sight.
This was where she had built her life.
Her mother had taught her to sew at the kitchen table. Her grandmother had shown her how to recognize quality fabric by touch alone. The shop was small, but every inch held a memory.
Declan stood beside her without speaking.
“I thought I'd feel afraid,” Sophia admitted.
“Do you?”
“Yes. But I'm also angry.”
“Anger can be useful.”
“So can scissors.”
He looked at her.
“I'm not going to argue with that.”
She began checking the worktables. Most of her tools were still there, but the drawers had been searched. Someone had opened the pattern cabinet and pulled out several old files.
One file was missing.
It contained measurements and notes from the suits she had made for Declan over the past two years.
“Why would anyone steal this?” she wondered.
Declan examined the empty space.
“Maybe they wanted to see what you've been making.”
“It's tailoring notes. Nothing more.”
Sophia opened the drawer where she kept old invoices. Beneath the papers lay a small envelope she didn't recognize.
Inside was a photograph of the warehouse where the attack video had been recorded.
On the back, someone had written:
Ask Marcus what happened on October 17.
Sophia looked up.
“Declan, what happened on October 17?”
He thought for a moment.
“Three years ago, Marcus was injured during a security operation. Peter was supposed to be with him, but he disappeared that night.”
“Did Marcus ever explain what happened?”
“He said his brother had betrayed the team.”
Sophia stared at the date.
“Then why would someone tell us to ask Marcus?”
Declan's phone rang.
It was Marcus.
May you like
His voice was urgent.
“I found Peter. He's dead.”
