Chapter 9: The Puppeteer

I didn’t sleep again. Not after the photograph. Not after the truth about Victoria.

I sat on the balcony of the mountain safe house, watching the sunrise paint the sky in shades of gold and pink. The air was cool and crisp, a stark contrast to the humid heat of the island. But I barely felt it. My mind was consumed by a single question.

Who was pulling the strings?

Damian was in prison. He couldn’t have ordered the attack. But someone had. Someone with the resources to hire professional mercenaries. Someone with the power to track us across the ocean. Someone who wanted me dead.

And I had a terrifying suspicion about who it was.

I walked back into the house and found Victoria in the kitchen, nursing a cup of coffee. She looked exhausted, her eyes red and swollen from crying. She hadn’t slept either.

“We need to talk,” I said, my voice flat.

She nodded, setting her cup down. “I know.”

We sat across from each other at the small wooden table. The morning light streamed through the windows, casting long shadows across the floor.

“Tell me everything,” I said. “From the beginning. Don’t leave anything out.”

Victoria took a deep breath. “Elena and I met in journalism school. We were inseparable. She was the brave one. The one who wanted to change the world. I was the cautious one. The one who wanted to make sure we didn’t get killed in the process.”

“But you did it anyway,” I said. “You investigated Damian.”

“We did,” Victoria said. “Elena had a source inside Thorne Media Group. A whistleblower who had access to the company’s financial records. He gave her everything. The embezzlement. The money laundering. The trafficking.”

“Who was the whistleblower?” I asked.

Victoria hesitated. “His name was Marcus Reed. He was Damian’s chief financial officer.”

I frowned. “Marcus Reed. That name sounds familiar.”

“It should,” Victoria said. “He’s the man who’s been helping me investigate Damian for the past six months. He’s the one who gave me the files I showed you in the coffee shop.”

I stared at her, my mind racing. “Marcus Reed. The investigator in your office. The young man in the rumpled suit.”

Victoria nodded. “He’s been working with me since Elena died. He felt guilty. He was the one who gave Elena the information that got her killed. He’s been trying to make it right ever since.”

“And you trust him?” I asked.

“With my life,” Victoria said. “He’s the reason we have the evidence. He’s the reason Damian is in prison.”

I leaned back in my chair, my mind spinning. Marcus Reed. The whistleblower. The inside man. He had been working with Victoria from the beginning. He had given her the files. He had helped her build the case against Damian.

But something didn’t add up.

“If Marcus is the whistleblower,” I said slowly, “then he knows everything. He knows about the trafficking. He knows about the murders. He knows about the network.”

“Yes,” Victoria said.

“Then why didn’t Damian kill him?” I asked. “Why did he let him live? Why did he let him walk around with all that information?”

Victoria’s face paled. She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out.

“Because Marcus wasn’t the whistleblower,” I said, my voice rising. “He was the inside man. For Damian.”

Victoria shook her head. “No. That’s not possible. Marcus is the one who helped us.”

“Think about it,” I said, my heart pounding. “Who knew where we were on the island? Who knew we were going to Miami? Who knew about the safe house? The only people who knew were you, me, Hector, Victor, Martin, and Marcus.”

Victoria’s eyes widened. “Oh my God.”

“Marcus is the mole,” I said. “He’s been working for Damian the whole time. He gave you just enough evidence to make you think you were winning, but he kept the most important pieces for himself. He knew about the trafficking ring. He knew about the network. And he’s been using you to get to me.”

Victoria stood up, her chair scraping against the floor. “I have to call Hector. I have to warn him.”

“Hector is in the hospital,” I said. “He’s safe. But we’re not. If Marcus is the one who ordered the attack, he knows we’re still alive. He’ll try again.”

Victoria grabbed her phone, her hands trembling. She dialed a number, waited, then cursed. “No answer. Marcus isn’t picking up.”

“Of course he isn’t,” I said. “He’s probably already on his way here.”

We had to move. We had to get out of the safe house before Marcus and his men arrived. I ran to Victor’s room, shaking him awake.

“We have to go,” I said. “Now.”

Victor sat up, wincing in pain. “What’s happening?”

“Marcus is the mole,” I said. “He’s working for Damian. He’s the one who sent the mercenaries.”

Victor’s face went pale. “Marcus Reed? The investigator?”

“Yes,” I said. “We have to leave before he finds us.”

We gathered our things and ran to the car. Martin was already in the driver’s seat, his engine running. Victoria jumped in the passenger side, and I helped Victor into the back.

“Where are we going?” Martin asked.

“The airport,” Victoria said. “We need to get off this island. Now.”

We sped down the mountain road, the tires screeching on the sharp turns. I looked out the back window, my heart pounding. There was no one behind us. Not yet.

But I knew they were coming.

Two Hours Later

We were in the air again, flying to a safe house in Colombia. Victoria had arranged everything—a private jet, a new identity, a place to hide. But I didn’t feel safe. I couldn’t feel safe. Not until Marcus was stopped.

I sat in the cabin, staring at my phone. I had a text message from an unknown number. I opened it.

“You’re smarter than I thought, Claire. But it doesn’t matter. You can run, but you can’t hide. I’ll find you. And when I do, I’ll make sure you never see the light of day again.”

I stared at the message, my blood boiling. Marcus. It had to be him. He was taunting me. Playing with me. He thought he had won.

But he was wrong.

I typed back: “You made a mistake, Marcus. You revealed yourself. And now I’m coming for you.”

I put the phone down and looked at Victoria. She was staring out the window, her face pale and drawn. She had trusted Marcus. She had believed in him. And he had betrayed her.

“We’re going to find him,” I said, my voice hard. “And we’re going to make him pay.”

Victoria nodded, her eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry, Claire. I’m so sorry. I should have seen it. I should have known.”

“We all should have known,” I said. “But we know now. And we’re going to stop him.”

I looked out the window, watching the clouds drift by. I thought about Elena. I thought about Hector. I thought about all the people whose lives had been destroyed by Damian and his network of corruption.

I wasn’t just fighting for revenge anymore. I was fighting for justice. For the truth. For everyone who had been silenced.

And I wasn’t going to stop until Marcus Reed was behind bars.

Later That Night

We landed in Bogotá just after midnight. A car was waiting for us on the tarmac, and we were driven to a small, secluded villa in the mountains outside the city. It was dark and quiet, the only sound the chirping of crickets and the distant hum of the city below.

Victor was taken to a bedroom to rest. Martin went to secure the perimeter. Victoria and I sat in the living room, staring at the fire.

“What’s our next move?” I asked.

“We need to find Marcus,” Victoria said. “We need to find out who he’s working for. Because I don’t think he’s just working for Damian. I think there’s someone else. Someone higher up.”

“Who?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Victoria said. “But I have a lead. A name. A man who might know where Marcus is hiding.”

“Who?”

Victoria hesitated. “His name is Alexander Thorne. Damian’s older brother.”

I stared at her. “Damian has a brother?”

“Had,” Victoria said. “He was disowned by the family years ago. He disappeared. No one knows where he is. But I have a source who says he’s been living in South America. Colombia, specifically.”

“And you think he’s the one pulling the strings?” I asked.

“I think he’s the one who hired Marcus,” Victoria said. “I think he’s the one who wants you dead. And I think he’s the key to bringing down the entire network.”

I leaned back in my chair, my mind racing. Alexander Thorne. Damian’s brother. The puppet master.

“Then we find him,” I said. “And we make him talk.”

Victoria nodded. “We start tomorrow. But for now, you need to rest. You’ve been through hell.”

I shook my head. “I can’t rest. Not until this is over.”

“You have to,” Victoria said, her voice gentle. “You’re no good to anyone if you collapse from exhaustion.”

I knew she was right. But the thought of sleeping, of closing my eyes, terrified me. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Hector falling. I saw the target on my face. I saw Marcus’s smug smile.

But I also saw Elena. I saw her smile. I saw her determination. I saw the sister who had died trying to expose the truth.

I couldn’t let her down.

“Okay,” I said, standing up. “I’ll rest. But tomorrow, we hunt.”

Victoria nodded. “Tomorrow, we hunt.”

I walked to my room and closed the door. I lay down on the bed, staring at the ceiling. My body was exhausted, but my mind was racing.

I thought about Alexander Thorne. The mysterious brother. The puppet master. What did he want? Why was he trying to kill me?

I didn’t have the answers. But I knew one thing for certain.

I wasn’t going to stop until I found him.

And when I did, I was going to make him pay for everything.

To be continued...