"Lock him up," he ordered. "I want every trace of this so-called 'ally' found. Start with the hotel. I want eyes everywhere."
His men sprang into action, dragging the traitor away while Victor clenched his fists. He wasn't just going after Camilla and Jonathan anymore.
He was going to hunt down whoever was bold enough to challenge him—and make them regret it.
Victor paced the dimly lit room, his mind racing. If Camilla and Jonathan had someone powerful backing them, then this wasn't just a simple escape—it was a declaration of war. He needed to move fast.
Turning to his most trusted enforcer, Victor spoke coldly. "Double the men at the hotel. I want every entrance covered. If anyone goes in or out, I want to know immediately."
"Yes, boss," the man responded before hurrying out.
Victor's fingers tapped against the table as he considered his next move. If Camilla had gone through this much trouble, then she wasn't just running—she was planning something. He needed leverage.
A sudden thought made his lips curl into a smirk. If he couldn't get to Camilla directly, he'd make sure she came to him.
He pulled out his phone and dialed a number.
"Find Jonathan's weakness," he ordered the moment the line connected. "Family, friends, past enemies—anyone who can be used against him. And make it quick."
Ending the call, he exhaled slowly. He was done playing their game.
Now, they were going to play his.
Victor's men continued tracking Camilla and Jonathan, determined to uncover the truth. Late that night, one of his spies, a man named Gregor, returned with unexpected news. He placed a file on Victor's desk and stepped back.
"You'll want to see this," Gregor said grimly.
Victor opened the file and scanned the contents. His eyes narrowed as he took in the details—Jonathan Robbinson wasn't just Camilla's brother. He had another identity, one buried deep in the underworld.
Jonathan was once known as Nathaniel Cross, a former strategist for one of the most ruthless crime syndicates in the country. Years ago, he had disappeared without a trace after betraying the syndicate's leader, leaking sensitive information that led to a major downfall. It was believed that Nathaniel Cross had been executed—but now, here he was, living under a false identity as Jonathan Robbinson.
Victor clenched his jaw. No wonder Camilla was protecting him. If Jonathan's true identity got out, every crime boss he had betrayed would come hunting for him.
Gregor shifted uneasily. "What do you want us to do, boss?"
Victor smirked coldly. "We let them run—for now. The longer they think they're safe, the more reckless they'll get. And when the time is right…" He trailed off, his fingers tapping against the desk.
Camilla wasn't just protecting her brother. She was protecting a man with enemies far worse than Victor himself. If he played his cards right, he could use this secret against them both.
But first, he needed to set a trap.
Victor leaned back in his chair, his mind working quickly. Now that he knew Jonathan's true identity, he could turn this revelation into a weapon. Camilla had been careful, but she wasn't invincible. Protecting Jonathan meant she was vulnerable, and Victor would exploit that weakness.
He called in his most trusted men—Gregor, Dante (who was secretly feeding information to Jillian), and Marcus, a master of setting up deceptions. Victor's plan was simple but ruthless.
Victor ordered his men to spread a carefully crafted rumor among the underground networks. The word would be that someone had discovered Nathaniel Cross was alive and hiding under the name Jonathan Robbinson. But instead of pointing fingers at Victor, the rumor would make it seem like one of Jonathan's old enemies had found out. The goal was to make Jonathan panic, to force him and Camilla into making mistakes.
With the rumor circulating, Victor arranged for a fake attack. He would send his own men disguised as bounty hunters to "search" for Jonathan, making it seem like every criminal organization was on high alert for the fugitive. This would add pressure, making Camilla and Jonathan more desperate. They would have no choice but to move—exposing their next hideout and potential allies.
Victor wasn't going to strike immediately. Instead, he instructed his men to allow Camilla and Jonathan a chance to escape—just barely. He wanted them to feel like they were staying ahead, always running, never realizing that every step they took was being manipulated by him.
"You let them breathe," Victor said, staring at the map of possible safe houses. "Let them think they're smart. Let them think they're lucky. And just when they believe they've won—" He crushed a glass in his hand, shards falling onto his desk. "We end it."
His men exchanged glances, knowing what that meant.
Once Camilla and Jonathan were sufficiently paranoid, Victor planned to send them one last message—an ultimatum. Either Camilla handed Jonathan over, or Victor would ensure that the real criminals who wanted him dead found him first.
He was done playing fair.
Victor stood, adjusting his suit. "Make sure they know the world is closing in on them," he said coldly. "Let them run… right into our hands."
Jonathan paced the dimly lit motel room, his jaw clenched. "This isn't right," he muttered, glancing at Camilla. "How would they have found out about me so quickly? We were careful."
Camilla pressed her fingers against her temples, trying to think. "I don't know, but we can't take any chances. We move now."
She grabbed their bags, stuffing in whatever they could carry. Jonathan hesitated. "And go where, Camilla? Every time we run, we leave a trail. We need a real plan, not just constant running."
Camilla shot him a sharp look. "Do you think I don't know that?" She took a deep breath, softening her tone. "But if we stay, they'll find us."
Little did they know, Victor's men had already surrounded the area. They weren't closing in yet—Victor wanted them to feel just safe enough to fall into his trap. His men, watching from nearby buildings, kept their distance, feeding real-time updates back to him.
Sitting in his office, Victor smirked as he read the latest report. "They've taken the bait," he murmured, lighting a cigarette. "Now, let's see how long they last."
He leaned forward and typed out a simple message.
Victor: You have one choice, Camilla. Hand Jonathan over, or I'll make sure the people who really want him dead find him first.
Across town, Camilla's phone buzzed. The moment she read the message, her hands went cold.
Jonathan noticed her expression. "What is it?"
She turned the screen toward him, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's Victor."
Jonathan swallowed hard, his mind racing. "He's bluffing," he said, but there was doubt in his voice.