Chapter 3 - The Dead Man in the Photograph
Rey stared at the photograph Lucian placed on the table.
“I know him.”
Lucian's expression hardened.
“How?”
“He came into Caldwell.”
“When?”
“Several times.”
“What name?”
Rey searched her memory.
“Victor Stone.”
Lucian gave a humorless laugh.
“Creative.”
“Who is he?”
Lucian remained silent long enough that Rey understood the answer mattered.
Finally he said, “A man who once knew everything about me.”
Viktor Soren had worked beside Lucian years earlier.
Not beneath him.
Beside him.
He understood Lucian's companies, habits, financial structures and security.
Then eight years earlier, after a bitter internal betrayal, Viktor disappeared.
Evidence suggested he had died overseas.
Lucian had accepted it.
Apparently, he'd been wrong.
“What does he want from me?” Rey asked.
“Perhaps nothing.”
“He photographed me.”
“Then perhaps everything.”
Rey hated that answer.
They spent the next day rebuilding the financial trail.
The Fibonacci sequence was not merely identifying stolen money.
It was creating a map.
Each number corresponded to a company.
Each company corresponded to a person.
And eventually, every path led toward Caldwell.
“Your boss is involved,” Lucian said.
“Or someone wants us to think he is.”
Lucian looked at her differently.
“You defend people you dislike.”
“I defend evidence.”
“Useful quality.”
“So is not terrifying everyone you meet.”
“I'll consider it.”
“No, you won't.”
“No.”
For the first time, Rey laughed around him.
It surprised them both.
Something changed afterward.
The fear didn't disappear.
But Lucian became human.
She noticed he drank coffee black but rarely finished it.
He checked doors unconsciously.
He listened more than he spoke.
And despite his reputation, he never once raised his voice at her.
Late that evening, Rey rubbed her eyes.
“You should go home,” Lucian said.
“To the apartment someone entered?”
His jaw tightened.
“You'll stay somewhere secure.”
“Is that a suggestion?”
“Yes.”
“It sounded like an order.”
“Then pretend I added please.”
Rey smiled.
“You're terrible at this.”
“At what?”
“Normal human interaction.”
Lucian looked almost offended.
Then one of his men entered.
“Mr. Zarka.”
He placed a phone on the table.
A message had arrived.
A photograph of Rey and Lucian leaving the office together.
Underneath:
Everyone has a weakness eventually.
Rey went cold.
Lucian didn't.
His face became empty.
Dangerously empty.
“They think I'm your weakness,” Rey whispered.
“No.”
“That's literally what it says.”
“They want me to believe you are.”
“Difference?”
“Yes.”
He stood.
“A significant one.”
Rey looked at him.
“What happens now?”
“You disappear.”
She stared.
“Excuse me?”
“Temporarily.”
“No.”
“Rey.”
“I have a job.”
“A job where someone used your credentials to steal millions.”
“I have rent.”
“I'll cover it.”
“That is exactly the sort of sentence that makes normal people uncomfortable.”
Lucian stepped closer.
“Someone has been following you for months. Your apartment was entered. Your identity was used. Now Viktor knows you're working with me.”
Rey swallowed.
“Why do you care?”
Lucian's answer took too long.
That frightened her more than if he'd answered immediately.
Finally:
“Because you walked toward me when everyone else in that room knew enough to stay away.”
“That was stupidity.”
“Perhaps.”
“And forty dollars.”
“Yes.”
“But?”
His gaze held hers.
“But I haven't decided what else it was.”
Rey looked away first.
That night she agreed to stay in a secure apartment Lucian owned.
At 2:13 a.m., her phone vibrated.
A message from Belle.
Rey, I need you. Don't call Lucian.
Rey sat upright.
Another message.
An address.
Then:
I know who put your name into those accounts.
Rey called.
Belle didn't answer.
She dressed and slipped into the hallway.
She knew Lucian would stop her.
So she told no one.
Twenty-five minutes later, Rey reached an abandoned commercial building near the waterfront.
The door was open.
“Belle?”
Nothing.
She entered.
“Belle?”
A light switched on.
Belle stood across the room.
Alive.
Terrified.
And beside her stood Rey's employer.
Martin Caldwell.
Rey froze.
“Mr. Caldwell?”
His face looked twenty years older.
“You shouldn't have come.”
“You used my credentials.”
Caldwell closed his eyes.
“I was trying to protect you.”
“By framing me?”
“No.”
He looked toward the darkness behind Rey.
“By hiding you.”
Footsteps sounded.
A man emerged.
Older.
Gray at the temples.
Calm.
Rey recognized him from the photograph.
Viktor Soren.
He smiled.
“Hello, Rey.”
She stepped backward.
“How do you know me?”
Viktor's smile disappeared.
“Because your father once worked for Lucian Zarka.”
Rey's heart stopped.
“My father died when I was nine.”
Viktor tilted his head.
“No, Rey.”
Then he delivered the secret that shattered everything she believed about her childhood.
May you like
“Your father died because of Lucian.”
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