Chapter 9 Chapter 9
The tension in Damien’s office was a living, breathing thing. It coiled around the room like smoke, suffocating and unrelenting. He sat behind his desk, his posture as rigid as the steel filing cabinet in the corner. The blinds were half-open, letting slivers of pale morning light streak across his face, but they did little to soften his hard expression.
I stood in front of him, hands balled into fists at my sides, trying to steady the pounding of my heart. I had spent the entire night replaying the muffled voices I’d overheard outside my door, dissecting every word, every tone, until a single terrifying thought took root in my mind: someone in his inner circle was working against him.
“There’s a traitor,” I said, my voice cutting through the silence like a blade.
Damien didn’t flinch, didn’t blink. He leaned back in his chair, his fingertips pressed together, his expression unreadable. “I’m aware,” he said simply.
The calmness in his voice only fueled my frustration. “And you’re not going to do anything about it?” I snapped, taking a step closer.
His eyes narrowed slightly, a warning. “I said I’m aware,” he repeated, the edge in his voice impossible to miss. “Do you think I don’t know what’s happening under my own roof?”
I swallowed hard, my anger warring with the knot of fear tightening in my chest. “If you know someone’s feeding Claudia information, why aren’t you taking this more seriously?”
Damien leaned forward, his elbows resting on the desk. “Because I don’t need to,” he said, his voice low and controlled. “This isn’t your fight, Lisa. Stay out of it.”
“Stay out of it?” I repeated, my voice rising. “How can I stay out of it when you’ve dragged me into the middle of this mess? Claudia is out there, and your own men might be helping her—”
“Enough,” Damien snapped, his voice sharp enough to make me flinch. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
For a moment, the air between us was so thick I could barely breathe. I stared at him, my chest heaving, and for the first time, I saw something flicker across his face—something that looked like doubt.
“You don’t trust them,” I said quietly, the realization hitting me like a punch to the gut. “You don’t trust anyone, do you?”
Damien’s jaw tightened, his gaze hardening. “Trust gets you killed,” he said flatly.
I shook my head, disbelief and frustration bubbling to the surface. “You can’t do this alone, Damien,” I said, my voice trembling. “Whatever you think of Claudia, she’s not your biggest threat right now. It’s the people standing next to you.”
He stood abruptly, the sudden movement making my breath catch. He towered over me, his presence as suffocating as the tension in the room. “I said, stay out of it,” he said, his voice low and menacing.
I held my ground, even as my legs threatened to buckle beneath me. “And if I don’t?” I challenged, my voice barely above a whisper.
For a moment, I thought he might lash out, might finally let the mask slip and reveal the anger simmering beneath the surface. But instead, he stepped back, his expression cold and distant.
“Then you’ll regret it,” he said simply, turning his back to me.
I left the office without another word, my heart pounding in my chest. The hallway felt endless as I made my way back to my room, my thoughts racing. Damien might have dismissed my concerns, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that the cracks in his armor were getting wider.
And if he wouldn’t do something about the traitor, I would have to.
Later that afternoon, I was sitting on the edge of my bed, staring at my phone, when it buzzed. The screen lit up with a notification, and my stomach dropped when I saw the name.
Claudia.
My hands trembled as I opened the message.
“Lisa, meet me at the old train station on the edge of town. Come alone. If Damien is with you, I’ll disappear for good.”
The words blurred together as my mind raced. This was my chance to finally talk to her, to understand what was going on. But the warning was clear—if I brought Damien, it would all be over.
I read the message again, my heart pounding. If I went, I’d be risking everything. If Damien found out, I didn’t even want to imagine what he’d do. But if I didn’t go, I might lose Claudia forever.
I stared at the phone, my thoughts a chaotic mess. I could feel the weight of the decision pressing down on me, suffocating me.
Then, without giving myself time to second-guess, I typed out a reply.
“I’ll be there.”
The hours dragged by as I tried to prepare myself for what was to come. I packed a small bag—a change of clothes, some cash, anything I thought I might need if things went south. My mind was racing with possibilities, each one more terrifying than the last.
What if Claudia didn’t show up? What if it was a trap? What if Damien found out?
I shook the thoughts away, forcing myself to focus. I couldn’t afford to let fear paralyze me.
As the sun began to set, I slipped out of my room, moving quietly down the hallway. I avoided the main corridors, sticking to the shadows and keeping my movements quick and deliberate.
When I reached the back exit, I hesitated, glancing over my shoulder. The house was eerily quiet, the usual hum of activity replaced by a tense stillness.
I pushed the door open, the cool evening air hitting my face like a slap. The sky was painted in shades of orange and pink, the fading light casting long shadows across the driveway.
I made my way to the edge of the property, where a small side gate led to the street beyond. My heart was pounding so loudly I was sure someone would hear it, but I didn’t stop.
When I reached the gate, I paused, taking one last look back at the house. The windows were dark, the building looming like a silent sentinel.
And then I slipped through the gate, the metal clicking softly behind me.
The old train station was exactly how I remembered it—abandoned and crumbling, the once-grand structure now little more than a skeleton of rusted metal and broken glass. The tracks were overgrown with weeds, the platform littered with debris.
I stood at the edge of the platform, my breath visible in the cool night air. The silence was deafening, broken only by the distant hum of traffic and the occasional rustle of leaves.
I checked my phone, the screen glowing faintly in the darkness. No new messages.
“She’ll come,” I whispered to myself, the words more a plea than a statement.
But as the minutes ticked by, doubt began to creep in. What if this was a mistake? What if Damien had been right all along?
I turned at the sound of footsteps, my heart leaping into my throat. A figure emerged from the shadows, their face obscured by the dim light.
“Lisa,” Claudia’s voice called softly, and relief flooded through me.
She stepped closer, her face illuminated by the faint glow of the streetlamp above. She looked tired, her eyes shadowed with worry, but there was a determination in her expression that sent a chill down my spine.
“You came alone?” she asked, her gaze darting around the station.
I nodded, my throat too tight to speak.
“Good,” she said, her voice firm. “Because there’s something you need to know.”
Before I could respond, another sound cut through the air—the crunch of gravel beneath heavy boots.
I turned, my stomach dropping as I saw the outline of a figure standing at the edge of the platform.
Damien.