A Midnight Package Delivered To My Desk Contains A Severed Hand And A 60-Minute Timer Pointing To My Son's Family
👉 Previous Decision: You chose to brief Sarah off the record to find out what financial data she already possesses.
I motioned Sarah Lindqvist behind an idling ambulance, away from the prying eyes of my officers. The diesel engine rumbled, muffling our voices.
“What do you have, Ms. Lindqvist?” I asked, cutting straight to it. “About these shell companies?”
She pulled a tablet from her bag. Her fingers flew, bringing up a complex web of transactions. “I’m investigating a series of large, untraceable real estate acquisitions in Newark. This particular site, your son’s warehouse, is a key node.”
She rotated the screen toward me. My eyes locked on a specific line: a $1.2 million wire transfer, dated 1998. The sender’s name hit me like a physical blow.
“This account,” I said, my voice a strained whisper, “it’s registered under my birth name.”
My original name. The name I used as a young enforcer for the DeLuca syndicate, before I changed it, before I joined the academy, before I became Captain Victor Novak. Clara had found it.
Before I could process the file, my phone buzzed. It was Dominic. “Victor,” he said, his voice tight. “Clara’s convening an emergency family meeting. Something about your mental state.”
The pieces clicked into place, cold and sharp. Clara hadn’t just found my past. She was weaponizing it.
➡️ Read Chapter 8 to continue the story
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