Chapter 4 - The House of CardsNula unlocked the deadbolt and pulled the door open before they could kick it in.
“Mr. Callahan,” she said, her voice dropping into a dangerous, icy calm that masked her sheer terror. “If you’re here to fire me for snooping in your office, you’re wasting your time. I already quit.”
Andrew didn't smile. He looked past her into the cramped living room, nodding respectfully toward Gabriel Turner in the armchair, before fixing his flat green eyes back on Nula.
“I didn't come to fire you, Nula,” Andrew said quietly. “I came to tell you the truth.”
“You’ve been lying to me for two years!” Nula flashed back, her voice rising in anger as tears stung the corners of her eyes. “You knew my mother! You knew who I was when you let me scrub your floors and wash your windows! Why didn't you just tell me?”
“Because the moment you learned the truth, you’d become a target for every rival syndicate faction in Illinois,” Andrew stepped across the threshold, entering the small apartment without an invitation, though he kept his movements slow and non-threatening. “The people who forced your mother into hiding twenty years ago are still looking for those ledgers. And they know I’ve been searching for her daughter to find them.”
Gabriel raised his voice from the chair, coughing slightly. “She doesn't have the ledgers, Andrew. We burned them the night your father’s empire fell.”
Andrew turned his gaze toward the old man. “I know you burned the physical books, Gabriel. But your wife didn't spend ten years as a federal forensic accountant without creating encrypted digital backups.”
Nula stared at Andrew, the pieces finally clicking together in her mind. “That’s why you hired me. You thought I would know the encryption keys. You thought I was carrying my mother’s digital footprint.”
“In the beginning, yes,” Andrew admitted without flinching, his brutal honesty cutting through the tension like a scalpel. “I needed those ledgers to permanently sever my ties to the old syndicate and protect my mother’s legacy. I ran background checks on hundreds of people. When your name popped up under a false social security alias on the south side, I engineered your placement in my estate.”
“You used me,” Nula whispered, the betrayal stinging far worse than any fear of violence.
“I protected you,” Andrew corrected, his voice dropping into a harsh, intense register. “The day you walked into my mansion, a hit squad from the Cicero faction had a tail on you. If you had stayed in this neighborhood three days longer, you’d be in a shallow grave. Inside my walls, behind my security grid and my men, you were untouchable.”
Marcus Vance stepped into the apartment behind Andrew, holding a secure encrypted tablet. “Boss, we’ve got movement outside. Two unmarked sedans just turned the corner onto this street. The Cicero crew tracked our vehicle.”
May you like
Andrew didn't panic. He pulled a heavy-caliber sidearm from his shoulder holster, flicked off the safety, and handed it to Marcus. Then he looked down at Nula, his expression dead serious.
“The game is over, Nula,” Andrew said, his voice entirely steady. “They followed me here. Which means we have about two minutes to decide whether you want to run... or help me finish what your mother started.”
