Chapter 4 - The House of Cards
The following days were an exercise in precision. I knew I couldn't trust the local authorities, so I had to rely on the only person I knew who understood the dark side of the city. I reached out to Marcus, a man from my past—someone I had met years ago in college before I met Daniel. He was a private security contractor who operated in the grey areas of the law.
"I need your help," I said over a secure line.
"Anything, Sarah," he replied. He didn't ask questions. He knew that if I was calling him, it was a matter of life or death.
I fed him the data I had scraped from Daniel’s laptop. It included the GPS coordinates of the estate, the security rotation schedules I had observed by watching the house from a distance, and the contact information for Elena Vance. Marcus and his team worked with a terrifying efficiency. Within 48 hours, they had mapped the entire property. It wasn't just a house; it was a vault. Mia was being held in the East Wing, guarded by two men who were essentially glorified thugs on the payroll of C.S. Holdings.
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I watched Daniel from the shadows of my own home, observing his every move. He was getting cocky. He was hosting "memorial dinners" for Mia, drinking expensive wine and acting the part of the stoic, grieving husband. He thought he had won. He thought he had successfully buried the truth under a mountain of lies and fake sympathy. He had no idea that I was counting down the hours.
I started packing a bag, not for a trip, but for a war. I took my jewelry, some cash I had stashed away, and a small, concealed handgun that had belonged to my father. I was ready. Every night, I would lay in bed beside Daniel, listening to him snore, dreaming of the moment I would finally see him broken. The house of cards he had constructed was swaying in the wind, and I was the storm that was about to bring it crashing down. I was ready to save my daughter, and I was ready to end Daniel’s life as he knew it.
