Chapter 3 - THE TRAITOR INSIDE THE HOUSE
Maya Bennett had never been shot before.
She considered this one of her more successful habits.
She hoped to continue it.
Luca stood ten feet away with a pistol aimed directly at her chest, his expression almost apologetic.
“Put the wallet down.”
Maya stared at him.
“Honestly, after finding my own stalker photograph in it, I was considering keeping it.”
His jaw tightened.
“Put it down.”
Maya slowly lowered the wallet.
Her mind moved faster than her body.
Adrian had gone toward the south gate.
Marco with him.
The conference hallway was empty.
Luca was between her and the nearest staircase.
Behind Maya was only the meeting room.
A mop.
A bucket.
And several chairs heavy enough to require three union workers and a permit.
Not ideal.
“Were you the one who burst the pipe?”
Luca blinked.
“What?”
“The bathroom pipe.”
“No.”
“Huh.”
“What?”
“Nothing. I was hoping this entire evening might have one competent villain.”
“Maya.”
“You know my name. Creepy.”
His grip tightened.
He looked genuinely irritated now.
Good.
Angry people made mistakes.
At least television had promised her that.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” Luca said.
“That sentence would feel more sincere without the gun.”
“Walk toward me.”
“No.”
His eyes hardened.
“You don’t understand.”
“I’m getting a pretty clear picture.”
“You’re leverage.”
“For Adrian?”
“Yes.”
Maya almost laughed.
“He met me eleven days ago.”
“That isn’t why.”
Her pulse stuttered.
“What does that mean?”
Luca’s expression changed.
Too late.
Maya noticed.
“What isn’t why?”
“Move.”
“What does my sister have to do with Adrian?”
Luca took one step closer.
And Maya threw the wallet at his face.
Not elegant.
Not brave.
But effective.
He flinched.
Maya grabbed the mop beside the wall and swung it like she had recently declared she would.
The wooden handle slammed into Luca’s wrist.
The gun fired.
The sound exploded through the corridor.
A painting shattered behind Maya.
She swung again.
Luca cursed and grabbed the mop.
He yanked.
Maya refused to let go.
For one absurd second, they played tug-of-war with industrial cleaning equipment while a gun lay somewhere beneath the conference table.
“You are making this unnecessarily difficult,” Luca growled.
“That’s on my résumé.”
He shoved her.
Maya hit the wall.
Pain shot through her shoulder.
Luca moved for the gun.
Maya kicked it.
Barefoot.
The pistol slid beneath a cabinet.
Luca stared at it.
Then at her.
“That was stupid.”
“Probably.”
He lunged.
Maya ran.
She made it three steps before he caught the back of Adrian’s jacket around her shoulders.
The fabric tightened across her throat.
She twisted.
Luca grabbed her arm.
Then a deep voice sounded from the far end of the corridor.
“Take your hand off her.”
Luca froze.
Adrian stood near the staircase.
His pistol was raised.
Marco appeared beside him half a second later.
For the first time since Maya had opened the wrong door, Luca looked afraid.
“Boss.”
Adrian’s face was empty.
That was somehow worse than anger.
“Move away from her.”
Luca pulled Maya against him instead.
A small knife appeared at her side.
Of course.
Because apparently guns had not provided sufficient drama.
“Don’t,” Luca warned.
Marco lifted his weapon.
“Luca, this is a bad time to reconsider your employee benefits.”
“Shut up.”
Adrian never took his eyes from Maya.
She could see calculations happening behind his expression.
Distances.
Angles.
Risk.
“Maya,” he said calmly.
“Yes?”
“When I say down—”
“I know what down means.”
Luca tightened his grip.
Adrian’s eyes flashed.
“Still joking?”
“Panicking would be less useful.”
Something passed across Adrian’s face.
Respect.
Fear.
Maybe both.
Luca began backing toward a side door.
“I just need her.”
“You’re not leaving this property,” Adrian said.
“Soren says different.”
At that name, Adrian’s entire demeanor changed.
“Where is he?”
Luca smiled.
“Closer than you think.”
Then every light in the corridor turned red.
A deafening fire alarm began screaming through the mansion.
Luca flinched.
Maya moved.
She drove her heel down onto his foot, threw her head backward, and hit his nose.
He cursed.
“Down!” Adrian shouted.
Maya dropped.
A single gunshot cracked above her.
Luca fell backward.
The knife spun across the marble.
Silence lasted less than one second.
Then Adrian reached Maya.
He did not inspect Luca.
Did not check the weapon.
Did not speak to Marco.
His hands went straight to her face.
“Look at me.”
“I am.”
“Are you hit?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
His fingers moved over her jaw, neck, shoulders.
Clinical.
Fast.
But not detached.
Maya realized his hands were shaking.
Barely.
Adrian Voss’s hands were shaking.
“Adrian.”
“I’m fine.”
“I was actually going to say you’re crushing my face.”
He stopped.
Marco stared at them.
Adrian slowly lowered his hands.
“Sorry.”
Maya rubbed her cheeks.
“Apparently everybody apologizes on gunfight night.”
Marco crouched beside Luca.
“He’s alive.”
“Keep him that way,” Adrian said.
The words were ice.
“I want answers.”
Two guards appeared.
Adrian ordered them to take Luca downstairs.
Maya watched them carry him away.
Her knees finally weakened.
Adrian caught her elbow.
“I’m okay.”
“No, you’re not.”
“That seems rude.”
“You were held at gunpoint.”
“Technically twice if we count the knife.”
His jaw flexed.
“Stop.”
The command was quieter.
Maya looked at him.
“Stop making jokes for one minute.”
Her smile disappeared.
Adrian’s eyes held hers.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“The part you’re hiding.”
She swallowed.
“I’m not hiding anything.”
“You’re terrified.”
The simple statement shattered something.
Maya looked away.
For three years, fear had been an inconvenience she could not afford.
Fear did not pay rent.
Fear did not work double shifts.
Fear did not find missing sisters.
So she made jokes.
Kept moving.
And pretended everything was survivable until it became true.
But standing beneath the red emergency lights, she suddenly could not pretend.
“I want my sister.”
Adrian’s expression changed.
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
Her voice trembled.
“I spent three years telling myself Elena left because she wanted to. Because believing she chose to disappear was easier than believing something happened to her. And now she’s in your photograph beside some criminal and people were watching me before I even came here.”
Her eyes burned.
“So either she’s alive and in trouble, or she’s alive and part of this, and I don’t know which one scares me more.”
Adrian said nothing.
Maya folded her arms tighter.
“Tell me everything.”
“I can’t.”
“Then I leave.”
“No.”
She stared.
“You don’t own me.”
“I know.”
“Then don’t say no like that.”
“You cannot leave this estate tonight.”
“Watch me.”
“Maya.”
“Adrian.”
“You’re a target.”
“And staying inside the house containing at least one armed traitor feels safer?”
“Luca wasn’t the only one involved.”
That stopped her.
Adrian took the phone from his pocket.
“The north cameras were disabled from inside the security network. Luca didn’t have access.”
“So someone else helped him.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“Fantastic.”
“Maya—”
“Stop saying my name like it’s a sedative.”
Marco made a suspicious sound behind them.
Adrian turned.
Marco immediately studied the ceiling.
Maya pointed.
“He keeps doing that.”
Marco raised both hands.
“I have no idea what you mean.”
Adrian ignored him.
“You’re moving to the secure east wing.”
“No.”
“You’ll have guards.”
“No.”
“I wasn’t asking.”
“Congratulations, you’ve discovered the exact sentence that guarantees I refuse.”
Adrian stepped closer.
“You nearly died five minutes ago.”
“And now you’re using that to control me.”
“I’m using it to keep you alive.”
“Those are not always different things.”
That landed.
Adrian went still.
For a moment, Maya saw something old behind his eyes.
Something painful.
He stepped back.
“Fine.”
She blinked.
“Fine?”
“You may choose the room.”
“That is not freedom.”
“It is the maximum democracy I offer during active assassination attempts.”
Marco coughed into his fist.
Maya glared.
“Are you enjoying this?”
“More than I should.”
Adrian looked at him.
Marco’s face went blank.
Twenty minutes later, Maya stood in an enormous bedroom overlooking Lake Michigan.
It had bullet-resistant windows.
A panic room.
Two guards outside.
And a bathtub larger than her first apartment.
“This is ridiculous.”
Adrian stood near the doorway.
“It’s secure.”
“The throw pillows alone could suffocate someone.”
“You’ll stay here tonight.”
Maya turned.
“And tomorrow?”
“We find your sister.”
Her anger weakened.
“You mean that?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
His face became unreadable.
“Because Soren wants you for a reason.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Adrian took several seconds to answer.
“Because Elena may have information I need.”
There it was.
Cold.
Transactional.
Maya hated the small part of herself that had hoped for something else.
“Right.”
She turned away.
Adrian remained near the door.
“Maya.”
“What?”
“When I caught you downstairs…”
She looked back.
He seemed almost uncomfortable.
“I knew your name before tonight.”
She frowned.
“Why?”
“You helped one of my employees your third day here.”
“Mrs. Ortega?”
“She dropped a tray.”
“She has arthritis.”
“You stayed two hours after your shift to finish her work.”
Maya shrugged.
“That’s why?”
“No.”
“What else?”
“You argued with my head chef about throwing away thirty pounds of food.”
“It was perfectly good food.”
“You arranged for it to go to a women’s shelter.”
“Was I not supposed to?”
“No one had thought to.”
Maya stared at him.
“I notice what happens in my house,” Adrian said.
Something warm and dangerous moved through her chest.
Then Marco appeared in the doorway.
“Adrian.”
One look at his face changed everything.
“What?”
“We searched Luca.”
“And?”
Marco held up a small electronic device.
“Tracker.”
Maya frowned.
“On him?”
“No.”
Marco looked directly at her.
“It was sewn into the lining of the jacket Maya’s wearing.”
Her blood froze.
Adrian’s jacket.
She slowly pulled it off.
Marco cut open the lining.
A tiny tracker fell into his palm.
Nobody spoke.
Then Marco said:
“Boss, that jacket came directly from your private dressing room this morning.”
Adrian went deadly still.
Only a handful of people had access to his private rooms.
Maya looked at him.
“You said someone else helped Luca.”
“Yes.”
A sound came from the bedroom corridor.
One of the guards outside spoke sharply.
Then nothing.
Adrian reached for his gun.
Marco did the same.
The door slammed shut by itself.
The electronic lock engaged.
Maya’s heart jumped.
A second later, the television across the room turned on.
Static.
Then an image appeared.
A live camera feed.
A woman sat tied to a chair in a concrete room.
Dark hair.
Bruised face.
Maya stopped breathing.
“Elena.”
Her sister slowly raised her head toward the camera.
And a man’s voice came through the speakers.
“Hello, Maya.”
Adrian stepped in front of her.
The unseen man laughed.
“Don’t bother hiding her, Voss. We already know exactly where she is.”
Elena began struggling against the ropes.
Then she looked directly into the camera.
“Maya!”
Her voice broke through three years of silence.
Maya moved toward the screen.
“Elena!”
Her sister started crying.
But she was not looking at Maya anymore.
She was looking past the camera.
At someone entering the room.
Her face changed to terror.
“No,” Elena whispered.
The unseen man spoke again.
“Midnight tomorrow, Adrian. Bring me Maya Bennett.”
Maya’s stomach dropped.
“And if you don’t…”
May you like
A gun entered the frame and pressed against Elena’s temple.
“…her sister dies.”
