The realization settled in my stomach like lead.

The traitor wasn’t just some low-level associate.

It was Victor’s most trusted advisor.

We turned onto the winding, tree-lined road that led up the hills to Victor’s estate.

The iron gates of the estate opened slowly, letting our convoy through.

The mansion loomed ahead, its stone facade lit by spotlights.

We parked in the private courtyard, away from the main entrance.

“We will use the side entrance tonight,” Marcus said, opening his door.

The rain had slowed to a steady drizzle.

Marcus opened my door and held a black umbrella over my head.

We walked down a narrow stone pathway toward the basement archive rooms.

The two guards followed closely behind us.

I noticed that the guard on my left had his hand resting on his holster, his fingers twitching.

“Where is Victor?” I asked, looking around the empty hallway we entered.

“He is waiting in the study upstairs,” Marcus said.

“But he wants you to secure the ledgers in the vault first.”

The hallway was silent, lit only by recessed yellow lights.