Chapter 49 THE TRAITOR REVEALED
POV: Selena
I want to scream at Marcus to turn around, to stop moving, to not touch his phone, to freeze exactly where he is.
My mouth opens, but nothing comes out.
Jessica’s fingers are still digging into my wrist. Her whole body is shaking now. Not the quiet kind. The kind that comes when fear has been locked away too long and finally breaks free.
Marcus looks at us, confusion flashing across his face. “Selena. What did she say?”
I pull my hand out of Jessica’s grip and stand up so fast the chair scrapes the floor. The sound is sharp. It makes everyone flinch.
“Step back,” I say to Marcus.
His brows pull together. “What?”
“Just do it,” I say. My voice is steadier than I feel. “Please.”
He takes one step back, slow, controlled. Not defensive. Not angry. Just confused.
Adrian’s voice comes through the phone, tight and alert. “Selena. Talk to me.”
I swallow. My throat feels raw. “Jessica thinks someone inside the family helped Thornton,” I say. “She thought it was Marcus.”
Marcus lets out a short breath. “That is insane.”
Jessica shakes her head hard. “No. I never said it was him.”
I turn back to her. “You whispered his name.”
She looks at me, eyes wide with panic. “I said he helped Thornton. Not Marcus. He. I did not say Marcus.”
The room tilts.
Marcus exhales sharply. “Who, Jessica?”
Her hands tremble as she presses them into her knees. “Thomas Gray.”
The name lands like a dropped plate.
It takes a second for it to make sense.
Then it does.
“No,” I whisper.
Adrian says nothing. That silence is worse.
“Thomas Gray?” Marcus repeats. “Your father’s chief of staff?”
“For twenty years,” Jessica says. “He had access to everything. Calendars. Drafts. Donor lists. Private travel.”
My chest tightens. I remember Thomas’s voice, calm and warm. The way he called Adrian son even though he was not family. The way he brought soup to the hospital when Senator De Luca collapsed.
“He was always there,” I say. “Every meeting. Every crisis.”
“That is how he hid,” Jessica replies. “No one questions furniture.”
Marcus rubs his jaw. “Why would he do this?”
Jessica’s eyes harden. “Because he was tired of being invisible.”
The shelter hallway outside goes quiet. Too quiet.
Adrian finally speaks. “You are sure?”
She nods. “I saw the messages. The metadata. Thornton did not find things on his own. He was handed them.”
I sit down slowly, my legs weak. “Out of resentment?”
“Yes,” Jessica says. “Your father promised him influence. A legacy role. When the administration changed, those promises vanished.”
Marcus mutters something under his breath.
“He fed Thornton information for years,” Jessica continues. “Small things at first. Then bigger ones. When I found the money trail, Thomas panicked. That is when Thornton ordered the hit.”
My stomach twists.
“Why tell us now?” Adrian asks.
“Because Thomas thinks he has already won,” Jessica says. “He thinks Thornton’s campaign will bury your family. He is careless now.”
Marcus’s phone buzzes in his hand. He looks at the screen, then up at me. “Thomas just requested a private meeting with Adrian.”
My heart slams into my ribs.
Adrian’s voice turns sharp. “Where?”
“At the foundation office,” Marcus says. “He says it is urgent.”
I stand. “It is a trap.”
“Yes,” Marcus agrees. “But we can use it.”
“No,” I say. “Not without protection.”
Adrian exhales. “I am not walking into this blind.”
“I am coming,” I say.
“No,” he replies instantly.
“I am already involved,” I say. “And he will not expect me.”
Silence stretches between us.
Then Adrian says quietly, “Stay on the line.”
We leave the shelter through the back exit. Marcus drives. Jessica stays behind with staff and two plainclothes officers Marcus calls in. I watch her disappear through the window, small and fragile and brave.
The city blurs past as we drive. My hands are clenched in my lap. I try to slow my breathing.
“He raised me,” Adrian says through the phone. “He taught me how to tie a tie.”
I close my eyes. “That does not make him innocent.”
“I know,” he says. “But it makes this harder.”
The foundation office is quiet when we arrive. After hours. Too clean. Too controlled.
Marcus checks the hallway before letting us in. The lights hum softly overhead.
Thomas is already there.
He stands near the window, hands folded behind his back. He turns when we enter, a gentle smile on his face.
“Adrian,” he says warmly. “I was hoping you would come.”
My skin crawls.
“Thomas,” Adrian replies. His tone is polite. Empty.
Thomas’s eyes flick to me. “Miss Alvarez. You look tired.”
I say nothing.
Marcus closes the door behind us.
“What is this about?” Adrian asks.
Thomas sighs. “I was afraid this day would come.”
My pulse spikes.
“You have been careless,” Thomas continues. “You let outsiders dig where they do not belong.”
“You mean me,” I say.
He looks at me now, really looks. His smile fades. “You were a mistake.”
Adrian steps forward. “Do not speak to her.”
Thomas chuckles softly. “Still protecting. Always the same.”
“Why?” Adrian asks. “Why betray my father?”
Thomas’s face tightens. “Because he betrayed me first.”
He moves closer to the desk, resting his hands on it. “I gave him my life. My loyalty. My ideas. And when power came, he shut me out.”
“So you sold us out to Thornton,” Adrian says.
“I balanced the scales,” Thomas replies. “I gave Thornton what he needed. I gave your father what he deserved.”
My hands shake. “You tried to have Jessica killed.”
Thomas does not look at me. “She was inconvenient.”
Adrian’s voice drops. “You destroyed lives.”
“I survived,” Thomas snaps. “I watched others rise while I stayed in the shadows.”
Marcus shifts his weight. “The FBI has your communications.”
Thomas smiles again. “Do they?”
“Yes,” Marcus says.
Thomas’s gaze sharpens. “You think that will be enough?”
Adrian steps closer. “It will end you.”
Thomas laughs, but it sounds hollow. “You sound just like him.”
“Like my father?” Adrian asks.
“Yes,” Thomas says. “So sure of justice. So blind to cost.”
He straightens, smoothing his jacket. “Thornton will burn you. Even if I fall.”
“You are finished,” Adrian says.
Thomas’s eyes flick to me. “Are you sure?”
My heart skips.
“What does that mean?” I ask.
He reaches into his jacket.
Time slows.
Adrian moves in front of me.
Marcus shouts, “Thomas, do not.”
The gun appears in Thomas’s hand, black and small and real.
Adrian’s voice is calm. Deadly calm. “Put it down.”
Thomas’s hand trembles. His eyes are wet now. Angry. Hurt. Wild.
“You took everything from me,” he says. “I deserve better.”
“You will get exactly what you deserve,” Adrian replies.
The gun lifts.
And I realize, with terrifying clarity, that love does not make you weak.
It puts you in the line of fire.