Chapter 47 Blame me not

Chapter 47 Blame me not
I barely slept that night. Every sound in the mansion woke me. The guards, the distant hum of the city, even the creak of the floorboards reminded me that I was still under Charles’ watch. But sleep wasn’t an option. Not tonight. Tonight, I would take the first real step against Matteo’s operation.
I dressed quietly, in black, the fabric tight enough to move without making noise. My hair was tied back, my phone and notebook tucked into my jacket pocket. I didn’t need anything else. Max was already waiting in the garage, leaning against the car, eyes scanning the street.
“You ready?” he asked.
I nodded. “Tonight we act. Observation isn’t enough. We need to disrupt their network.”
He gave a small smile. “I’ve got your back. But you lead.”
I gripped the wheel as we drove, the streets foggy and empty. The warehouse was a few blocks away, just as I had memorized. Every corner, every alley, every shadow was mapped in my head. My pulse was steady. Fear was there, but it was controlled. I wasn’t going to hesitate.
We parked a block away and slipped through the shadows. I crouched low, tracing the guards’ movements. Two men patrolled near the front. I counted their steps, memorized their timing, and watched the way they held their weapons. Max mirrored my movements, silent and precise.
We moved to a side entrance I had observed days before. The lock was simple; a twist and the door gave way. Inside, the warehouse smelled of metal and dust. Crates were stacked high, and shadows moved across them. My eyes caught every label, every mark, every detail.
“Follow me,” I whispered.
We slipped through the maze of crates. My heart beat fast, but I forced my steps to be deliberate. Every movement was measured. I memorized the paths the workers took, the timing, and the doors they used. Every detail was important.
I reached the office in the center. The light from a small window lit up papers, shipping schedules, and ledgers. I moved quietly, taking photos with my phone, memorizing the contents of every document. Dates, codes, shipment locations—I committed them all to memory.
A man entered, tall and broad, carrying a clipboard. I froze. He didn’t notice me at first. Max pressed against the shadows, ready to act if needed. I waited, counting his steps, memorizing every motion.
He left, unaware of us. I exhaled slowly. Every detail mattered. Every observation brought me closer to my goal.
I moved to a stack of crates near the back. Behind them was a small storage room. I peeked inside. Crates marked with Matteo’s name, inventory logs, and several locked boxes. My pulse quickened. These were key. These held information I could use to disrupt shipments, trace routes, and maybe locate my parents.
I jotted down everything in my head. Max whispered, “Time to go?”
“Not yet,” I said. “Observe first. Make sure nothing’s changed.”
We waited, crouched behind the crates, watching movements. A delivery man entered, checking the list against crates. I memorized each number, each item. Every small detail could make the difference later.
Finally, I had everything I needed. I slipped a few photos into my phone, memorized the remaining shipment codes, and traced the paths of the guards. Max gave me a small nod. It was time to leave.
We retraced our steps silently, exiting the warehouse with care. Every door, every shadow, every corner was accounted for. No mistakes.
Back in the car, I exhaled, tension leaving my body slowly. I reviewed the details silently. Routes, shipment times, guards’ movements—all of it would guide our next step. Matteo’s network was bigger than I imagined, but now I could see it clearly.
Max glanced at me. “You handled that well. Quiet, careful, precise. Tonight, you proved you can act without panic.”
I nodded. “This is only the first move. Next, we disrupt. We need to make them notice, but not trace us.”
The mansion loomed ahead as we returned. Charles wasn’t there, but I felt his presence anyway. Silent, watching. I didn’t care. I had information. I had control of my first real action. I wasn’t just surviving anymore. I was planning.
I laid out my notes on the desk. Shipment codes, routes, guards’ schedules—all carefully memorized. Every weak point, every predictable movement, every shipment that could be intercepted. I traced them with my finger, memorizing again. I had a plan forming, precise and clear.
Max leaned against the wall, quiet. I didn’t need encouragement. I had focus, and it was enough.
I whispered to myself, “Tonight was just the beginning. The network is exposed. The next step is action. Matteo won’t know what hit him.”
For the first time, I felt a little control returning. Fear was still there, sharp and gnawing, but determination had taken over. I wasn’t just a pawn. I had a plan. I had a path. And soon, I would act.