THE VENDOR AND THE MAFIA BOSS

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The soft hum of the air conditioner was the only sound in the room, but Amara could hardly hear it over the thundering beat of her heart. She sat on the edge of her bed, the file still open in her lap, the name “Rafa” burned into her mind like a brand. Her fingers gripped the edge of the paper so tightly that it crinkled beneath her hand, the pressure a futile attempt to calm the whirlwind inside her.

How could this be? Rafa—her mentor, her ally, the man who had guided her through the shadows of Manila’s underworld—was implicated in the very scheme they were trying to expose. It didn’t make sense. There had to be an explanation. But as she stared at the paper, the truth weighed heavily on her chest, suffocating her with every passing second.

Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, interrupting her spiraling thoughts. She hesitated before reaching for it, the tension in her body palpable as she picked it up. It was a message from Marco.

Marco: “We need to meet. I’ve found something. Come to the warehouse.”

The message was short and to the point, but the urgency behind it was unmistakable. Amara didn’t need to be told twice. She quickly shoved the file back into its folder, tossed it into her bag, and grabbed her jacket. Whatever Marco had found, it was important. She couldn’t let this chance slip away.

The warehouse loomed in the distance, a towering silhouette against the fading light of the evening. The surrounding streets were deserted, the occasional passing car casting long shadows across the cracked pavement. Amara’s footsteps echoed in the empty space as she made her way inside, her eyes scanning the dark corners of the room. The fluorescent lights flickered above, casting a sickly glow on the stacks of crates and metal shelves that filled the space.

Marco was already waiting at the same desk where they had looked through the files earlier, his posture tense and his eyes glued to the screen of a laptop. He barely looked up when Amara entered, but she could see the urgency in the way he clicked through the files. His jaw was tight, and the deep lines of frustration on his face were hard to ignore.

“Did you find something?” Amara asked, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside her.

Marco’s eyes met hers, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something in them—anger, maybe, or disbelief. He took a deep breath, as though steadying himself before answering.

“I found the connection,” he said slowly, his voice low. “The leak—it’s not just any insider. It’s someone close to Rafa. A trusted associate.”

Amara’s heart skipped a beat. “Who?”

Marco reached for a file on the desk and flipped it open, revealing a photograph that made her stomach drop. The man in the picture was familiar, a face she had seen countless times around the operation. But the name under the photo sent a chill through her spine.

Victor Mendoza.

Amara couldn’t believe it. Victor. He was the last person she would have suspected. And yet, here he was—tangled up in the very mess they were trying to unravel. The betrayal was almost too much to process, but there was no denying it. The evidence was clear.

“I don’t understand,” Amara whispered, her mind racing. “How is he involved with Rafa? I thought he disappeared years ago.”

Marco shook his head. “He didn’t disappear. He’s been working for Rafa, quietly in the background, handling things that Rafa doesn’t want anyone else to know about. But this leak... it looks like he’s been feeding information to our enemies. And I think he’s been doing it for a while.”

Amara’s mind was spinning. Everything she thought she knew about this world—the alliances, the loyalties—was crumbling in front of her. She had trusted Victor once. They had been close. But now, his name was tainted by this betrayal, and she was left with nothing but questions.

“Why would he do this?” she murmured, more to herself than to Marco. “Why would he risk everything for this?”

Marco didn’t get an answer. Instead, he reached for his phone and pulled up another document on the screen. “There’s more,” he said grimly. “Victor isn’t just feeding information. He was also involved in laundering money for the operation. And based on these transactions, I think he’s the one who’s been diverting funds.”

Amara’s breath caught in her throat. The scale of the betrayal was far worse than she had imagined. It wasn’t just about leaking information—it was about money. The lifeblood of any criminal empire, and the one thing that could bring everything crashing down if it gets out of control.

“So what do we do now?” she asked, her voice steady despite the shock running through her.

Marco closed the laptop and stood up, running a hand through his hair. “We need to confront Victor,” he said, his voice hardening. “But it’s not going to be easy. He’s not just some small-time player. He’s deep in this game, and he’s dangerous.”

Amara nodded, her resolve hardening. She had never backed down from a fight, and she wasn’t about to start now. But this wasn’t just any fight—it was a fight against someone she had once trusted. And that made everything infinitely more complicated.

“We’ll take him down,” Amara said, her voice quiet but determined. “But we need to be smart about this. We can’t let Rafa find out yet. Not until we have Victor in our hands.”

Marco hesitated for a moment, his gaze searching hers. “You’re sure about this?” he asked quietly. “You’re sure you want to go down this road?”

Amara met his gaze, her eyes hard with determination. “I’ve been down this road before,” she said, her voice steady. “And I’m not turning back now.”

The mansion was quieter than usual when Amara and Marco arrived, the tall iron gates opening with a low creak as they drove through the winding driveway. The soft glow of the porch lights illuminated the exterior of the grand house, but something about the stillness felt wrong. Amara’s instincts were on high alert, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that they were walking into a trap.

“Are you sure this is the right move?” Marco asked as they parked outside, his voice laced with concern.

Amara didn’t answer immediately. She was already scanning the surroundings, her mind calculating every possible scenario. “We don’t have a choice,” she said finally, her tone unwavering. “Victor’s in there. And so is Rafa. If we want answers, we need to confront them both.”

They stepped out of the car, the weight of the decision pressing down on Amara with every step. She had come this far, and she wasn’t going to let fear dictate her next move.

The large front doors of the mansion loomed in front of them, and Amara knew that once they crossed that threshold, there would be no turning back. Whatever secrets Rafa and Victor were hiding, she was about to uncover them—and nothing would ever be the same again.