Chapter 7: The Man Who Vanished

The Safehouse

12:30 a.m. – Safehouse, Brooklyn

The safehouse was as far removed from the opulence of the Harrington mansion as possible. Tucked away in a quiet corner of Brooklyn, it was a tiny, nondescript apartment with peeling wallpaper and the slight smell of mildew. The decor was sparse—a threadbare couch, a rickety table, and a single lamp that cast a soft, yellow light.

Olivia sat on the edge of the couch; her hands twisted together in her lap. Her green dress was torn and stained, a shadow of what it had looked like just a few hours earlier. Damien stood by the window; his profile outlined by the faint light of the streetlights outside. He had changed into a plain black hoodie and jeans, and his sharp features were softened by the shadows.

We need to figure out what to do now," Damien said, his voice even and low. "The syndicate will not stop attempting to reach you."

Olivia looked up at him, her green eyes burning with a mix of fear and determination. "Why are they looking for me? What do they want?"

Damien hesitated, his jaw tightening. "It is not you that they want. It is what you know.".

"What do I know?" Olivia repeated, her voice rising. "I don't know anything!"

"You know more than you think," Damien stated, his voice ominous. "Victor was involved with them. And now that he's dead, they're tying up loose ends."

Olivia's chest tightened. "What are you talking about? Victor was a billionaire, not a criminal."

Damien laughed bitterly. "You think a guy like Victor Harrington got as far as he did by playing everything straight? He was laundering money for the syndicate. And now that he's dead, they're cleaning up loose ends."

Olivia's head reeled, the pieces of the puzzle slowly clicking into place. "That's why he was killed," she whispered. "It wasn't because of me. It was because of the syndicate."

Damien nodded. "And now they think you know too much."

The Flashback

Years Ago – Las Vegas

The flashback hit Olivia like a wave, pulling her back to a time she had fought so desperately to forget.

She and Damien were in the middle of a bustling casino, the air thick with cigarette smoke and desperation. Neon lights sparkled in Olivia's eyes as she stepped close to Damien, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Are you sure about this?" she asked, her green eyes widening in terror.

Damien grinned; his confidence unwavering. "Trust me, Olivia. This is the score of a lifetime."

They'd worked for weeks to set up the scam, building toward a high-dollar poker game with a mark who was underworld-connected, or so the rumors went. The plan was simple: in, out, and gone before anyone knew what hit them. But then something went wrong.

The mark wasn't who they'd thought. He was connected—lethally connected. And when he found out he'd been scammed, he didn't take it well.

The only thing Olivia could remember was the shots, the chaos of the casino, and Damien shoving her into a cab, his face grim and pale.

"Go!" he had shouted. "Don't look back!"

She never saw him again.

The Plan

1:00 a.m. – Safehouse, Brooklyn

Olivia brushed the memory aside, her mind returning to the present. "What do we do now?" she asked, her voice steady despite the terror that gripped her.

Damien turned away from the window, his expression grave. "We need to find out what Victor was involved in. If we can get proof of his dealings with the syndicate, we can maybe use it as leverage."

"And how do we do that?" Olivia asked, frowning.

"Victor kept records," Damien stated. "He was too smart not to. We just need to find them."

Olivia's mind raced. "His study," she cried out. "There's a hidden compartment in his desk. I found a key in the basement, but the flash drive was gone."

Damien's eyes narrowed. "Someone beat us to it."

"Helena," Olivia seethed. "She's been one step ahead the whole time."

Damien nodded. "Then we need to get to her before she has a chance to destroy the evidence."

The Break-In

2:00 a.m. – Harrington Mansion, Upper East Side

The mansion was dark and still when Olivia and Damien approached from the rear. The security system had been deactivated since Victor's murder, but the police tape that still covered the doors was a reminder of the crime scene within.

Damien moved with the silence of a practiced burglar, his footsteps quiet and deliberate. He picked the lock on the back door with ease, the click of the mechanism giving way to his expertise hardly audible.

"Stay close," he whispered as they went inside.

The mansion was eerily quiet, the only sound the faint creak of the floorboards beneath their feet. Olivia's heart pounded as they made their way to the study, her mind racing with the possibilities of what they might find.

The study was just as she had left it, the police tape still stretched across the entrance. Olivia moved to the desk, her fingers outlining the hidden compartment. It was still empty.

"They took everything," she whispered, her voice filled with frustration.

Damien knelt beside her, his eyes searching the room. "Not everything," he said quietly. "Look."

He pointed to a small, almost imperceptible gap between the floorboards near the desk. Olivia's breath caught when she realized what it was—a hidden safe.

"Can you open it?" she asked in an almost silent whisper.

Damien smiled. "Watch and learn."

He pulled a set of tools from his pocket and went to work, his hands moving easily from long practice. The safe opened with a pop after a few tense moments, and inside was a stack of papers and a small encrypted hard drive.

"Bingo," Damien said, satisfaction oozing from his voice.

The Ambush

2:30 a.m. – Harrington Mansion, Study

They did not have time to celebrate their find. Footsteps echoed down the hallway. Olivia's heart missed a beat as she realized that they were not alone.

"We must go," Damien whispered, desperation in his voice.

But it was too late for that. The door was pushed open and three men stormed in, masks covering their faces, guns aimed at Olivia and Damien.

"End of the line," one of them said, his voice cold and emotionless.

Damien stepped in front of Olivia, his body shielding hers. "If you're going to shoot, then shoot," he said, his voice steady.

The man raised his gun, but before he could pull the trigger, Olivia grabbed a heavy paperweight from the desk and hurled it at him.

The paperweight struck him on the head, and he stumbled, his gun firing wildly. The bullet ricocheted off the wall, and chaos erupted.

Damien lunged at the second man, grappling the gun out of his hand in a swift, brutal motion. Olivia sidestepped as the third man fired, the bullet whizzing past her ear.

She stretched across the desk and grabbed a letter opener, slashing at the man's arm, causing him to drop his gun. Damien was on him in an instant, punching him out with one blow that sent him crashing to the floor.

The room was silent, the only sound the heavy breathing of Damien and Olivia.

"We need to get out of here," Damien said, his voice low and urgent.

Olivia nodded, still trembling, as they grabbed the documents and hard drive and hastily left the mansion.

The Aftermath

3:00 a.m. – Safehouse, Brooklyn

Back at the safehouse, Olivia and Damien spread out the documents on the table, their eyes scanning the pages. The documents detailed Victor's dealings with the syndicate—money laundering, extortion, and worse.

"This is it," Olivia whispered, her voice a mix of relief and horror. "This is what they've been trying to hide."

Damien nodded; his expression was grim. "But it's not enough. We need to bring this to the authorities, but we have to be careful. The syndicate has people everywhere."

Olivia's chest tightened. "What do we do?"

Damien hesitated, his eyes softening for the first time. "We stick together," he murmured. "And we see this through."

Olivia nodded; her green eyes were determined. "Then we see it through together."