Chapter 5 - The Silence of the Driver
The hall was filled with the sound of rain beating against the high windows,
a rhythmic drumming that underscored the tension between the living and the dead.
Priya stood up slowly,
her injured hand held close to her chest,
her eyes never leaving Marcus’s name.
"He didn't take the money,"
she said,
her voice gaining strength.
"My mother died in poverty,
Weston."
"If Marcus had two million dollars,
he would have saved her."
"If the money was disbursed,
then where did it go?"
Weston turned the page of the ledger,
finding a bank routing number that had been crossed out and rewritten multiple times.
The final destination for the two million dollars wasn't an Osei family account.
It was a private account in the name of 'Vane Global Logistics.'
Weston looked at Odalys,
who was still shivering on the floor,
her pride replaced by a primal fear.
"You stole his life,
and then you stole the blood money my father tried to give his family,"
Weston said,
the realization hitting him like a physical blow.
"Project Widow wasn't about a death,"
Wren interrupted,
her eyes fixed on a date in the ledger.
"It was about a secret life."
"Silas knew he was dying long before the accident,
Weston."
"He was setting up a trust to protect us from the people he had worked with."
"Marcus Osei was his only true confidant,
the only one he trusted to move the assets."
Odalys looked up,
a sneer curling her lip even in her defeat.
"Your father was a criminal,
Weston,"
she spat,
her voice venomous.
"He built this house on stolen art and black market deals."
"Marcus Osei wasn't a hero,
he was a witness that needed to be silenced."
"I just did what was necessary to keep the Castellan name clean."
"And the two million dollars?"
Priya asked,
stepping closer to the woman who had ruined her life.
"That was my commission,"
Odalys laughed,
a jagged,
broken sound.
"For making sure the 'accident' looked like an accident."
The room fell into a horrifying silence,
the weight of the confession pressing down on everyone present.
Bram didn't wait for an order this time;
he pulled out his phone and dialed the police.
Weston looked at Priya,
his eyes filled with an apology that words could never convey.
"We’re going to find him,
Priya,"
he promised,
his voice thick with emotion.
May you like
"Whatever happened to Marcus,
we're going to find him."
