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The Syndicate
Veröffentlichungsdatum:
27.04.2026 14:31:18
V. S. AshfordI hope you’re loving the book so far. I love interacting and it would be awesome to know how you feel about the lives of these two separate individuals, Callie and Marcus, that have somehow been woven together. At this point, there’s more to come and I hope to stick around to find out. Love, V. S Ashford.
Aktuellstes Kapitel
The Witness He Owns The Syndicate
We do not talk about the safehouse.We drive back to the penthouse the next morning and Marcus is exactly as he always is; measured, precise, already three steps ahead of whatever he is thinking about.He calls me into the small boardroom to debrief me about the drive.“Thank you.” He says, looking right at me with appreciation in his eyes. “Thank you for being there and being so composed Callie. You being there meant a lot and I want you to know that.”My mouth is dry at the weight I hear in his voice. This man is not used to needing other people.“You’re welcome”. I reply. And I am being absolutely honest. I know what it means for me that he is doing everything in his power to figure this puzzle that has both our lives intertwined right now out and I am also grateful.He goes on to tell me the data is being processed and that we should know more within forty-eight hours.He does not mention watching me sleep.I do not mention it either.But I think about it. More than I should. More
The Witness He Owns The First Break
He tells me the night before.Not as a request. Not as an explanation. He comes to find me in the kitchen where I am eating dinner alone and he stands at the counter and says, "Tomorrow we are going to retrieve the drive. I need you with me.""With you," I say. "As in, outside this apartment.""Yes."I set my fork down. "In what capacity?"He is quiet for a moment. The kind of quiet that means he has already decided something and is simply working out how to present it. "The location is a private event. A dinner. We will need to attend as a couple."My eyes meet his. Simply first. Then intently as I realized he was not joking. "You want me to play your pretend girlfriend?”"Partner," he says. "It only needs to be convincing for approximately two hours.""And there was quite literally no one else for this?""No one else knows what the drive looks like or where it is." He meets my eyes steadily. "You do."I pick my fork back up. "What do I wear?"Something moves across his face. Relief,
The Witness He Owns Cracks in the Armor
By accident.I’m at Marcus Vane’s house for the fourth morning when I get the fresh towels in my bathroom.It is Anna who tells me, not Marcus. She does not mean to.She smiles at me, greets me as she’s dropping off the towels when she asks how my mother is doing an if she is settling well at the new facility. She asks so casually, clearly speaking under the assumption that I already know about the move.I freeze."What new facility?" I ask.Anna’s face changes. Slowly. I see the shift in her expression. The moment she figures it out that she has spilled information that was not hers to share. She recovers fast, She sets the towels down on the end of the bed and runs her hands over them uncomfortably, especially as they do not need it.I look at her square in the eyes, then ask again. “What facility?”The confusion is obvious in her eyes, even her voice when she says "I'm sure Mr. Vane can explain …""Tell me, Anna." It does not come out as a question."A private care facility, Miss B
The Witness He Owns What She Saw
We sit. The air is thick around us with anticipation which in this case, I could not identify of it was of something good or something bad. Either way, we are having this conversation.He sits at the head of the dining table which feels much too official for this conversation. I am not even sure if official is the right word as I sit but I am sure he has a reason for choosing here.It’s a twelve-man dining table and he sits at the head of the table at one end, and I, on the other end. The distance between us feels almost touchable but still somehow too close.He is seated with a legal pad and a pen on the table in front of him, in total control of the atmosphere. Calm. Centered. Not giving any more than he desires to give. This is sort of how I imagine him at meetings. So stoic. Anna is nowhere to be found, having left fresh coffee and disappeared, which I suspect she does a whole lot of, giving who she works for.I decide I am not speaking first. After what I have found, I deserve an
The Witness He Owns His Rules, His Walls
The bed feels very different. Soft too.I notice it first. And I know why. Think the worst of me if you want, but a soft mattress, the kind that costs more than three months of my rent, the kind that wraps your body so gently you almost do not notice it at all, this is exactly the kind of mattress I never thought I would sleep on in my whole life. No. Not someone like me. The sheets smell like something expensive and clean. The light coming through the curtains is grey and quiet and nothing like the yellow streetlamp that leaks through my bedroom window at home every single morning. Even the ambience is a clear contrast to the life I am used to.For about four seconds I forget where I am.Then it all comes back. The alley. The gun in his face. Raymond Holt sliding down that wall. The SUV outside my window. Marcus Vane from Vane Legal Group at my door. The black glass building. The door closing behind me.I sit up.The room around me is unlike anywhere I have ever lived. Large and bare
The Witness He Owns Marcus Vane
I do not open the door. It doesn’t seem like the right choice. No. I dare not. Or should I?I can’t seem to think straight. Everything is happening all at once.I’m now standing in the middle of my apartment with my phone against my ear and it would seem that my decision-making skills are currently on leave.I try to think. I’m not stupid so I know that strange men calling me from blocked numbers, telling me to open the door right after I have witnessed a murder, like that is not the kind of true crime story that ends with my photo on the news, and to make matters worse, he knows my name?It is in that instant I realize I have questions. Questions that he has to answer.I say, with all the confidence I can muster in that moment. “Tell me your name. Your full name.”He pauses, like he is deciding how much to tell me.“Marcus Vane.”My head tumbles inside. I know that name. Everyone here in Chicago knows that name. It’s Marcus Vane from Vane Legal Group. The prestigious and powerful l
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