Treachery

Episode 4

Lucas POV

“Wake up.”

The word left my mouth like it had weight. Not just sound—but intent. I watched his head twitch slightly, a small groan slipping past his cracked lips. The drugs were wearing off.

I didn't move. I stood a few feet away, arms crossed, the metallic scent of the warehouse clinging to my nostrils. Concrete floors. Rusted pipes. Bare bulbs humming overhead. The kind of place that erased all sense of time.

Two months. That’s how long we hunted him. Two months of cleaning up the fallout, covering the holes he blew through our accounts, and sitting in boardrooms listening to shareholders bark questions we couldn’t answer.

All because of him.

His name was Theo. Small-time tech rat we let in too close. A backend contractor with a good pitch and greedy hands. He siphoned money from the laundering system like a leech—quiet, systematic. And when it all finally clicked, he was already gone.

But we found him.

And now, here he was—slumped in a chair, arms and legs tied down, sweat already collecting at his temples. The blindfold was still on, but the way his body tensed, he knew he wasn’t safe anymore.

“Pull that off,” I told Dante, who stepped forward and yanked the blindfold away.

Theo blinked furiously, pupils adjusting to the sharp yellow light. His eyes darted, wild, trying to process. That panic—that’s what I wanted. Not rage, not pleas. Just that sharp edge of realization. That oh-f**k-it’s-him moment.

“Hi, Theo,” I said, calm. Too calm. “Long time.”

He swallowed. Jaw clenched. Didn’t speak.

“You know, when you stole from me,” I continued, taking slow steps toward him, “I thought—I hoped—you had some kind of plan. Something smart. Something worth admiring.”

He stayed silent. Just breathing hard now.

“But you didn’t. You just ran.”

I stopped in front of him. Looked him over. He was thinner. Bruised. Dirty. Life on the run hadn’t treated him kindly. Good.