Under His Protection

Into The Unknown

Sophia parked her car a block away from the docks, her fingers gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white. The streetlights barely penetrated the thick fog rolling in from the harbor, shrouding the area in eerie shadows. The air was heavy with the smell of salt and oil, a faint metallic tang that settled on her tongue.

The message replayed in her mind. “Be there.” Two simple words that had consumed her thoughts since she left Felix’s Bar. Now that she was here, every instinct screamed at her to turn back.

But she couldn’t. Not when she was so close to uncovering the truth about Adrian Castellano.

Sophia adjusted her coat and stepped out of the car, the chill of the night biting through her clothes. She pulled her phone from her pocket, checking the time—11:56 p.m. The docks were eerily quiet, the occasional creak of metal or the distant cry of a seagull the only sounds.

Her heels clicked softly against the pavement as she walked toward the meeting spot—a series of rusted shipping containers stacked like forgotten relics of a bustling trade. The informant had given her no details, no clues about what to expect. Just this location and a promise of something big.

As she moved deeper into the maze of containers, the shadows seemed to shift around her, and every step felt like a gamble. She clenched her fists to steady her nerves, her breath visible in the cold night air.

Then she heard it—a faint scuffle. Her heart leapt into her throat as she spun around, eyes darting to the source of the noise.

“Who's there?” she called, her voice steadier than she felt.

Silence.

The scuffle came again, closer this time. Sophia’s pulse raced as she backed against a container, her fingers brushing against the pepper spray in her coat pocket.

“Relax.”

The voice was low, gravelly, and came from the shadows to her right. A figure stepped forward, half-hidden in the dim light spilling through the gaps in the containers. It was the man from the bar—the informant.

“You scared the hell out of me,” Sophia hissed, trying to mask her relief.

The man gave a humorless chuckle. “Good. You should be scared.”

He motioned for her to follow, glancing over his shoulder as though he expected someone to appear at any moment. “This way. Quickly.”

Sophia hesitated for a split second before falling into step behind him. Her every sense was on high alert as they weaved through the containers, the faint hum of a cargo ship engine vibrating in the distance.

“Why all the secrecy?” she asked, keeping her voice low.

The man didn’t stop walking. “Because Castellano’s people have ears everywhere. You think he built his empire without knowing how to keep tabs on nosy reporters like you?”

Sophia bristled but didn’t respond. She had heard the rumors—how Castellano controlled the city’s underground like a puppet master, pulling strings no one else could see. But hearing it confirmed sent a shiver down her spine.

They came to a stop near the edge of the docks, where the water lapped quietly against the pier. The man turned to her, his expression grim. “What you’re about to see—it’s enough to bring Castellano down. But you didn’t hear it from me.”

Sophia opened her mouth to question him, but the sound of approaching footsteps silenced her. The man stiffened, his hand darting to his waistband.

“Get down,” he hissed, pulling her behind a stack of wooden crates.

Sophia’s heart pounded as she crouched beside him, peeking through a gap in the crates. A group of men emerged from the fog, their voices low but urgent. At their center was a figure she recognized instantly—Adrian Castellano.

Even in the dim light, he exuded power. His tailored coat and confident stride set him apart from the others, who moved with a cautious deference.

Sophia’s breath hitched. She was mere feet away from the man who had eluded justice for years.

“Why is he here?” she whispered.

The informant didn’t answer, his focus on the scene unfolding before them.

Castellano gestured to one of his men, who opened a briefcase filled with bundles of cash. Another man handed over a metal case that looked heavy and important. Castellano inspected it briefly before nodding in approval.

Sophia’s pulse quickened as she fumbled for her phone, desperate to capture the moment. She raised it slowly, her finger hovering over the record button.

“What are you doing?” the informant hissed, grabbing her arm. “If they see you—”

“I need proof,” she whispered back.

Before she could start recording, a loud crash echoed from somewhere nearby. Everyone froze. Castellano’s head snapped up, his sharp eyes scanning the area.

“Search the docks,” he barked, his voice cold and commanding.

Sophia’s blood ran cold as Castellano’s men fanned out, their flashlights cutting through the fog. She and the informant were trapped.

“You need to leave,” the man said urgently, his grip tightening on her arm. “Now.”

“I can’t,” Sophia whispered, her voice trembling. “This is my chance to bring him down.”

“And it’ll be your last if they catch you,” he snapped.

The sound of footsteps grew louder, closer. Sophia’s heart pounded in her chest as she realized the truth of his words. She was in over her head.

The informant cursed under his breath and pulled something from his pocket—a small, folded map. “Take this. It’s everything you need. Now go.”

“What about you?” she asked, her voice shaking.

“I’ll buy you time,” he said, already moving away from her.

Before she could protest, he disappeared into the fog.

Sophia clutched the map tightly, her mind racing as she scrambled to her feet and darted toward the exit. The sounds of shouting and the beam of flashlights followed her, but she didn’t stop.

As she reached her car and slammed the door shut, her hands shook as she unfolded the map. It wasn’t just a map—it was a list. Names, dates, locations. Evidence.

And at the top of the list, scrawled in bold letters, was one name: Adrian Castellano.

Sophia’s chest heaved as she stared at the paper, the weight of what she had just uncovered crashing over her. This was it. The key to everything.

But as she drove away, one thought gnawed at the back of her mind.

If Castellano’s people were watching the docks… who else was watching her?