Chapter 8: The Others
1405 Words
ADRIAN
Rebecca gathered the files and was about to leave, then suddenly, something made her pause at the door. "Sir, if these occurrences are accurate, if artists are actually disappearing..."
"Then Ella could be next." I finished her thought, and although the words tasted like poison, it was the bitter truth. Rebecca let out a heavy sigh, turned, and left without saying another word.
After she left, I returned to the security footage. I was impatient to follow up with every movement, so I decided to fast-forward through hours. I noticed that Victor appeared in multiple frames; he was always watching her with that same scornful boss look and satisfaction a predator normally gives its prey.
My phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number; it read,
“Package delivered successfully. The surveillance is fully active now.”
“Perfect,” I mumbled. I didn’t need to find out who the sender was; it was already obvious. Things were gradually falling into place, and my only regret was that I didn’t take action sooner than now.
I'd managed to slip someone inside Ravenwood's staff. He is a groundskeeper who owed me a huge favor, at least that’s what he says. I'd helped his brother avoid prison a year back on a cybercrime charge. If Victor thought his mansion was impenetrable, he was about to learn the hard way.
Something suddenly caught my eye from the footage: it showed Ella moving toward a bookshelf, and she seemed to freeze at the sight of something.
She'd found something, but it wasn’t very clear.
I leaned forward and watched as she glanced around nervously before pulling what looked like a lever. Immediately, a section of the bookshelf swung open, moving inward.
"What the hell, Victor?" I whispered. It felt as though I was standing right next to her in the studio. The tension was very high, and I could literally feel it from where I sat.
The camera angle couldn't capture what was beyond the bookshelf, but Ella's reaction looked terrifying before she disappeared into the darkness.
“Where did she go? Damn!” I shouted as I sprang up from where I sat; it was beginning to feel uncomfortable.
“Are you alright, sir?” Rebecca, who heard my voice, rushed in to check on me.
“I hope she’s safe,” I said bluntly. Unconsciously ignoring her question.
“Who exactly, Sir?”
“Ella!” I barked as I stared at her in rage.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized immediately. Suddenly, her somewhat frightened face made my senses fall back in place. I didn’t know I had gotten so agitated.
“Emm… emmm,” I tried to speak, but the words got stuck; I had just hurt my assistant's feelings, and I bet she was still shocked to see me this way. I could tell by the way she stared at me, her jaw slightly open.
“I’m sorry… for…”
“It’s okay, sir, I… I… understand,” she stammered. The room was so tense. “How’s the invitation coming along? I managed to ask.
“I’m still on it; it should be ready before the close of work.”
“That’s good,” I replied, adjusting my sleeves.
“Let me get to it,” she said and left in haste.
“Ella, see what you caused.” I gave a sheepish grin as I wiped my palm across my face. I sat back on my seat and focused on the footage. It took about 2 hours before she returned to the studio.
Her face looked like someone who had just seen a ghost; she looked pale, her hands trembled visibly, and she carefully closed the hidden entrance, trying hard not to make a sound.
I was still engrossed in how she leaned against the wall with a confused expression when the vibration from my phone startled me. I picked up the call even with ‘Unknown number’ boldly written on the screen.
"Blackwood."
"Sir, it's Morrison." The groundskeeper's voice was barely audible. "There is something you need to know.”
“And what would that be?”
“I noticed that there have been some activities in the basement levels. I heard voices and shallow movements.”
“Seriously? Are you sure of what you just said?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“Alright, if you say so. Can you identify the voices you heard?” I asked; his findings will help hasten the process.
“No, I can’t identify the voices; they were very faint, and they spoke in whispers.
“Hmmm… that’s strange.”
“One more thing, I think there are more people in this house than the official staff count we know.”
"How many more?" I inquired as my blood turned to ice.
"Hard to say. But I've seen food deliveries that are way too large for the number of people we thought were here. Also, I noticed that there are lights in the windows of rooms that are supposed to be storage areas."
That explains it; there were other artists trapped at Ravenwood. This is even more complicated than I had thought, and Ella happens to be in the whole mess.
"Morrison, listen attentively," I called his attention. I need you to be very careful. Don't do anything that could compromise your position. Just watch and report whatever you see or hear. I'm working on getting inside legally."
"Copy that, sir. But I’ll advise you to move fast with whatever plan you have in mind. Word is there's some kind of event happening soon. Big money buyers are coming in, and I think Victor has something up his sleeve.”
“Any clue on what he is planning?”
No, but…”
The line went dead. I think he was trying not to be caught.
I stared at my computer screen as I watched Ella pacing back and forth in the studio after discovering Victor's hidden cave. She wasn't just trapped; she was being kept hostage with other prisoners.
Artists who had promising futures just vanished from the world, and their families have been left with no clue to their whereabouts. Their talents are being exploited daily in ways that violate their rights.
My hands moved across the keyboard as I pulled up the financial records for Dane Holdings and its associated shell companies that Rebecca had brought earlier. The numbers told a story of huge profits from art sales to private collectors who were anonymous.
That wasn’t my concern; I was more interested in the payment pattern, which made me pause with my eyes wide open.
I could see monthly transfers to overseas accounts, and each one corresponded to the disappearance date of artists from my files. And the amounts? The amounts were insane.
Victor wasn't just collecting artists.
He was selling them, and this means only one thing: Ella, with her unmatched talent, will be sold off as soon as possible.
“Damn!”
I grabbed my phone and dialed Rebecca's extension.
"Rebecca, change of plans. I need the invitation to Victor's art show to be moved up to whatever the earliest possible date is. And I need you to contact Detective Maria at NYPD. Tell her that I need to meet with her about a human trafficking investigation."
"Sir?"
"She should know it’s very urgent. Also, reach out to the FBI's Art Crime Team. Tell them we have evidence of an international art forgery and human trafficking operation. And Rebecca?"
"Yes, sir?"
"Clear my calendar for the next week. I'm going to war."
As I ended the call, I stared at the frozen image of Ella on my screen. She was looking directly at the camera in this frame, although she didn’t know there was a camera there, but she stared right into it with a desperate and determined look. I could only imagine what this lady has been through.
"Hold on," I said calmly. Just hold on a little longer.
But even as I made that silent promise, I heard the buzzing sound from my phone. I slid through the screen and met a message that made my world tilt:
Three artists confirmed active at Ravenwood. But sir, there's something else. I found records that date back to seven years. A total of twenty-three artists have entered this property, but shockingly, only four are still alive.
"What the f*ck?"
- Writer
