Chapter 05: Betrayal in the Shadows
Victor’s heart pounded in his chest, a mixture of dread and disbelief. Greg Sullivan stood across from him, his eyes cold, his stance aggressive. The air around them felt suffocating, as though the night itself was closing in.
“What the hell are you doing here, Greg?” Victor asked, his voice low but tense.
Greg’s lips curled into a thin, knowing smile. “I should be asking you that. You’ve been poking around places you shouldn’t. This isn’t a game, Victor.”
Victor’s hand hovered near his side, where his gun usually rested, but he knew better than to reach for it. This wasn’t a confrontation he was prepared for—not yet, at least. Greg had always been unpredictable, a volatile mix of charm and menace, but tonight, something about him was different. It wasn’t just the danger in his eyes; it was the way he spoke, like a man who had already decided how this was going to end.
“Listen,” Victor said, his voice steady despite the knot in his stomach, “I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I’m not backing off. Not now.”
Greg chuckled, stepping closer. “You think you have it all figured out, don’t you? That’s your problem, Victor. You’re too damn sure of yourself.”
Victor bristled. “I’m not the one hiding something.”
Greg’s expression flickered with something unreadable, then his smile faded, replaced by something far darker. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with. It’s bigger than you. Bigger than anything you could ever imagine. And I’m not going to let you get in the way.”
Victor’s pulse quickened, the realization dawning on him with brutal clarity. “You’re one of them. You’re in on it.”
For a moment, Greg didn’t respond, his eyes narrowing. Then he stepped even closer, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. “You don’t know who you’re talking to, Victor. You never did. And now… you’re going to regret it.”
Without warning, Greg lunged at Victor, pushing him back into the shadows of the alley. Victor stumbled but caught his balance, his mind racing. This wasn’t a fight he wanted, but he had no choice now. He had to survive.
Greg swung first, a brutal blow aimed for Victor’s stomach. Victor barely dodged in time, the punch grazing his side. He retaliated instinctively, throwing an elbow into Greg’s chest, but the other detective absorbed the hit, his grip tightening around Victor’s collar.
“Did you think you were special?” Greg hissed, his face inches from Victor’s. “That you were going to save everyone? You’re just a pawn in this game, and you always have been.”
Victor’s breath was ragged, the weight of Greg’s words pressing down on him. He struggled to break free, but Greg’s grip was iron-tight. “What the hell is this about? What do you want from me?”
Greg’s smirk returned, this time colder, more sinister. “I want you to stop. Stop digging into things that don’t concern you. Stop asking questions that can’t be answered. Or you’ll end up like the rest of them—forgotten.”
A cold shiver ran down Victor’s spine. He had to get out of this. He couldn’t let Greg drag him down into whatever madness he was caught up in. With one swift movement, Victor planted his knee in Greg’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him. The grip loosened just enough for Victor to break free.
Greg staggered back, gasping for air, but the fury in his eyes never wavered. “You’ll regret this, Victor,” he spat. “You’re already too deep. There’s no way out.”
Victor didn’t wait for him to make another move. He turned and ran, his heart pounding in his ears. The alley blurred around him, but he didn’t stop. He had to get to Julia, had to tell her what had happened. The truth was out there, and if he was going to survive, he had to find it—before Greg and whatever dark force he served found him first.
Victor didn’t stop running until he reached the relative safety of his car, his mind whirling. His hands shook as he gripped the steering wheel, trying to calm the storm inside him. The pieces of the puzzle were falling into place, but the image they formed was far worse than he could have ever imagined.
He pulled up to Julia’s apartment building, his eyes scanning the parking lot. Something felt off. He parked quickly and rushed inside, barely acknowledging the doorman as he passed. Julia had to know what had just happened. She had to understand how close they were to something far more dangerous than either of them realized.
Victor knocked urgently on her door. No answer. He knocked again, louder this time. Still nothing. Panic gripped him. He tried the door handle, and to his surprise, it turned easily. The door creaked open, revealing an apartment that looked untouched. Too untouched. There were no signs of struggle, but there was also no sign of Julia.
His stomach dropped. Where was she?
Victor stepped inside cautiously, his instincts on high alert. The silence was deafening. Every creak of the floorboards, every whisper of the air, made him more certain that something was wrong. He moved through the apartment, checking every room, every closet. Nothing.
But then, in the living room, something caught his eye—a single sheet of paper on the coffee table. It was a photograph, but not one Victor recognized. He picked it up, his fingers trembling as he stared at the image.
It was a picture of him. But not the Victor he knew. This was the version of him that had been captured in surveillance footage—cold, detached, a stranger to himself.
Victor felt the blood drain from his face. Someone was watching him. Someone knew everything. And Julia? She was gone.
