"I believe you have the ability to find out who is responsible. Whether you choose to use it is another matter."
He looked at her for a long moment.
Then he reached for his phone.
"Marcus."
The head of security answered immediately.
"Yes, sir."
"Bring the car around. I am going to Warehouse Twelve."
Marcus hesitated.
"Are you sure?"
Victor's voice became cold.
"Did I sound uncertain?"
"No, sir."
Victor ended the call.
Elena stood.
"Where are you going?"
"To find Daniel Reed."
"I want to come."
"No."
"Then I want to know what happens."
"You will know."
"How can I trust that?"
Victor looked at her.
"You cannot."
The honesty of the answer caught her off guard.
He continued.
"But I can give you my word that nobody in my organization will threaten you while I am investigating this matter."
Elena studied his face.
"And if someone already has?"
Victor's expression darkened.
"Then I will find out who gave the order."
It was not a promise of kindness.
It was not a promise of justice.
But it was the first answer he had given her that sounded like a decision rather than a threat.
Elena nodded.
"Then find him."
Chapter 6: Warehouse Twelve
Warehouse Twelve stood on the edge of an industrial district where abandoned factories and storage buildings lined the road.
The property had been closed to ordinary business for months. Its windows were dusty, the metal gates were rusted, and weeds had grown through cracks in the pavement.
A black SUV stopped outside the entrance.
Victor stepped out first.
Marcus followed, accompanied by two security officers he had personally selected. He had left the rest of Victor's men at the office because he no longer trusted everyone wearing the organization's insignia.
Victor looked at the warehouse.
"This is the place?"
Marcus nodded.
"The property records match the documents. We also found a vehicle registered to one of the shell companies."
Victor walked toward the gate.
It was locked.
Marcus examined the padlock.
"Someone has been here recently."
"How can you tell?"
"The lock is new. The rest of the gate isn't."
Victor stared at the building.
He had spent years insisting that every important operation required his approval. He had demanded reports, signatures, and financial summaries.
Yet a warehouse connected to his own business had become a place where people could disappear without his knowledge.
The realization filled him with a quiet, burning anger.
Marcus opened the gate.
They entered.
The warehouse smelled of dust, oil, and damp concrete. Metal shelves stood along the walls. Several wooden crates had been left near a loading bay. A desk occupied one corner of the building, with paperwork scattered across its surface.
Victor approached it.
A half-empty bottle of water stood beside a chair.
A blanket lay folded on the floor.
Someone had been staying there.
Marcus checked the office.
"Victor."
He pointed toward a narrow corridor behind a storage room.
A metal door stood at the end.
Victor walked toward it.
He heard a sound from the other side.
A faint movement.
He stopped.
"Daniel?"
There was no answer.
Marcus opened the door carefully.
Inside was a small room with a narrow bed, a table, and a single chair. A man sat against the wall, looking exhausted and frightened.
His beard had grown unevenly. His clothes were dirty, and his face was thinner than it appeared in the photograph.
But Victor recognized him.
Daniel Reed.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Daniel stared at Victor as though he could not believe the man standing in front of him.
Then he pushed himself to his feet.
"You're here to finish it?"
Victor frowned.
"Finish what?"
Daniel laughed weakly.
"Whatever they started."
Victor looked at Marcus.
"Get him water."
Marcus moved immediately.
Victor returned his attention to Daniel.
"Who brought you here?"
Daniel hesitated.
"Anthony Bell."
Victor's face became still.
"Why?"
"Because I found the payments."
Daniel slowly sat down.
He explained that he had discovered discrepancies in the accounts while reviewing a series of invoices. At first, he assumed they were clerical mistakes. Then he found that several companies receiving money had no real operations.
He began checking older transactions.
The more he investigated, the more irregularities he discovered.
When he tried to report the matter through the normal channels, his supervisor told him to stop.
Two days later, Anthony summoned him to a private meeting.
Anthony said the problem was being handled.
He told Daniel that the transactions were connected to a confidential operation and that further questions could endanger the company.
Daniel did not believe him.
He made copies of the records.
That evening, two men approached him outside his apartment.
They took his phone and brought him to Warehouse Twelve.
"They told me I had stolen the money," Daniel said. "They said if I signed a statement accepting responsibility, they would let me go."
"Who were they?" Victor asked.
"Paul Danner was one of them. The other was a man I had never seen before."
"Did Anthony come here?"
"Twice."
Victor's hands curled into fists.
"What did he want?"
"To know whether I had made copies of the accounts."
Daniel looked at him with tired, angry eyes.
"He kept asking whether I had sent anything to you."
Victor said nothing.
Daniel continued.
"I told him I hadn't. I thought that if I gave him enough time, someone would realize I was missing."
He swallowed.
"My wife called the office. They told her I had taken money and run away. They said I had abandoned my family."
Victor looked down.
"Your wife did not believe them."
"No."
"She went looking for answers."
Daniel nodded.