CHAPTER 3: THE REAL TARGET
CHAPTER 3: THE REAL TARGET
The room went silent.
My father never looked surprised.
Not once.
Until he saw that file.
Then I knew something was wrong.
Very wrong.
"Where did that come from?" he whispered.
No one answered.
The screen changed.
A photograph appeared.
Twenty years old.
A younger Marcus Hart stood beside six government officials.
Five faces were circled.
One face was crossed out.
Dead.
Another image appeared.
Then another.
Then another.
Each person from the photograph had disappeared over the years.
Accidents.
Suicides.
Unsolved murders.
Only one remained alive.
Marcus Hart.
My father.
Suddenly, the gala wasn't about corruption anymore.
It wasn't even about Victor Kane.
Someone else had been pulling the strings.
Someone powerful enough to manipulate governments.
Someone patient enough to wait twenty years.
A final message appeared across the giant screen.
WELCOME BACK, DIRECTOR HART.
THE GAME NEVER ENDED.
Every light in the ballroom went dark.
People screamed.
Agents drew weapons.
Emergency systems activated.
Then a single spotlight illuminated the center of the room.
A small black envelope rested on the stage.
My father opened it with trembling hands.
Inside was a photograph.
A recent photograph.
Taken less than twenty-four hours earlier.
It showed me.
Sleeping in my apartment.
On the back were six handwritten words:
"I CAN REACH HER ANYTIME I WANT."
For the first time in my life, I saw fear in my father's eyes.
Because he finally understood the truth.
This entire operation...
This gala...
This attack...
Had never been about exposing criminals.
It had been designed to lure him out.
And somewhere in the darkness, the real enemy was already watching.
May you like
The hunt had just begun.
THE END... OR IS IT?
