Vic Fuentes Somebody That I Used To Know Mga Nobela at Kwento

And when I did—when I had proof of every lie, every betrayal—Elianna wouldn’t just regret deceiving me. She’d beg to take it all back. An hour later, my phone buzzed. I had been pacing my office, replaying every interaction I’d ever had with Elianna, every moment I had let her whisper in my ear and twist my reality. I grabbed the phone, pressing it to my ear without a word. "We have a name." I stilled. "Go on." "Victor Vasquez. Twenty-eight. Low-level but well-connected. He’s been running illegal errands for different mafias—clean-ups, deliveries, covering tracks. Smart enough to keep his head down, but dirty enough to know where the bodies are buried."

You don't understand what's at stake here. "Then make me understand." He was quiet for a long moment, his eyes searching my face. "Vance knows about the hard drive, knows about the journalist, knows about everything we've been planning. He has people everywhere, Debbie, people I trusted, people I've known for years." "And you think one of them is feeding him information?" "I know one of them is." He pulled out his phone and showed me a text message, a conversation with someone named Elais. "This is my best friend, my right-hand man, the person I trusted more than anyone in the world. He's been working for Vance the whole time."

"Including Colt." "Especially Colt. And Sophia. And Mae. They are my family. I will not put them at risk if I can avoid it." We left the apartment. Headed to meet one of Victor's old contacts. A woman named Elena who dealt in information. She was waiting at a coffee shop. Fifties. Professional. Every inch a businesswoman. "Jenna Carter. I have heard a lot about you. Victor spoke highly of you before he died." "You knew Victor well?"