The Man Behind The Smile.

Chapter One Daniel The room was quiet when I walked in. Three men were already seated around the table. Their faces were partially hidden by the dim light above us, but I knew every one of them. Victor sat at the head of the table. He didn't waste time with greetings. A photograph was pushed toward me. I looked down. Richard Carter. A respected investigative journalist. A husband. A father. And now, a problem. “Do you know who he is?” Victor asked. “I know enough.” Marcus placed a folder beside the photograph. I opened it. Richard had been asking questions. Dangerous ones. For months, he had been investigating a series of financial scandals, disappearances, and unexplained deaths that appeared unrelated. But Richard had noticed something others hadn't. The same names kept appearing. The same companies. The same connections. And every trail seemed to lead back to people who had spent years making sure nobody looked too closely. “He's getting close,” Marcus said. I turned to another page. Richard had collected documents, spoken to sources, and pieced together information that was never meant to exist in one place. “He has evidence,” Victor said. I looked up. “How much?” “Enough.” I closed the folder. “When?” “Three nights from now.” I looked at him. “Three?” Victor nodded. “We need time to make sure everything is handled properly.” I said nothing. Three nights. “Where?” I asked. “Westwood Street. Block 51.” Marcus slid another sheet across the table. I glanced at it. Richard Carter's residence. A large two-storey house behind a tall iron fence, with a wide driveway and a garden surrounding the property. “We've been keeping an eye on the place,” Marcus said. I scanned the report. Eleven staff members worked at the residence, including housekeepers, a driver, and security personnel. Richard lived there with his wife and their daughter, Sophia. “Sophia?” I asked. “She's away at university. She isn't expected home anytime soon.” I nodded. They had done their investigation properly. They always did. I closed the file. “Anything else?” “Keep it clean.” I nodded once. “I'll handle it.” Victor leaned back in his chair. “I know you will.” I stood and walked toward the door. No one stopped me. No one needed to. I had been doing this long enough for everyone in that room to know what I was capable of. --- Over the years, I had learned not to remember the faces. Faces made things complicated. Names were easier. Targets came and went. Some had been businessmen. Others had been people who believed their money or influence could protect them. There had been assignments we completed without complications. There had been others that remained open for weeks because something changed at the last minute. And there were still names sitting in files somewhere, waiting for their turn. I knew most of them. Victor trusted me with the difficult ones. The ones that required patience. The ones where a mistake couldn't be afforded. That was how I had earned my place. Second-in-command. I didn't need to raise my voice to command a room. I didn't need to remind anyone who I was. My reputation had already done that for me. When Victor gave me an assignment, he expected it to be finished. And until tonight, I had never given him a reason to doubt me. Richard Carter should have been no different. Another name. Another file. Another assignment. Yet I found myself looking at his photograph again. There was nothing remarkable about his face. He looked like an ordinary man. The kind of man who went home after work. The kind of man who had a family waiting for him. I pushed the thought aside. A target was a target. That was the rule I had lived by for years. Still, something about this assignment felt different. Maybe it was the timing. Maybe it was the fact that I had begun questioning things I had once accepted without hesitation. Or maybe I was simply tired. Tired of the meetings. Tired of the names. Tired of pretending every assignment was just another night at work. I looked down at the folder one last time. Three nights. Richard Carter had three nights left. I closed the folder and walked away. For now, there was nothing else to think about.