Bound by Vengeance

Chapter 4

VICTOR'S POV

I didn't sleep that night. Couldn't get Maya's face out of my head – the way she'd looked at me when I'd asked why I hadn't killed her yet. Like she was genuinely curious about the answer. Like she wasn't afraid of dying.

Most people begged within the first hour. They cried, they pleaded, they offered information they didn't even have just to make the pain stop. But Maya had sat there in that chair for six hours without shedding a single tear.

That kind of control wasn't natural. It was learned.

I was nursing my second cup of coffee when Viper walked into my studies at around 7 AM.

"Boss," he said, setting a thick file on my desk. "You're going to want to see this."

I opened the file and started reading. What I found made no sense.

Maya Carter's birth certificate was sealed in government records. Her school transcripts came from four different districts across three states. Her foster care documentation was a mess of contradictory dates and missing paperwork.

"This is amateur work," I said, flipping through the pages.

"That's what I thought too," Viper said. "But look closer."

I studied the documents again. The inconsistencies weren't random – they were deliberate. Someone had systematically obscured Maya's past without erasing it completely. Just made it nearly impossible to trace.

"Who does this kind of work?"

"Someone with government connections," Viper said. "Someone who knows how to work the system from the inside."

"Sarah's a stripper at Johnson's. What would she need government connections for?"

"Maybe Sarah isn't who we think she is."

I closed the file and leaned back in my chair. The girl downstairs wasn't just protecting Sarah out of friendship. There was something deeper here. Something that went back years.

"Double the security around the house," I told Viper. "If Sarah has the kind of help that can do this, she might try to get her friend back."

"Already done, boss."

"Good. And Viper? Clear out the east wing. I don't want any interruptions for the next few hours."

He nodded and left. I sat there staring at Maya's fabricated life story and felt something cold settle in my stomach. Whoever had done this work was professional. Thorough.

And they'd been protecting Maya for a very long time.

I made my way down to the basement an hour later. Maya was awake, sitting exactly where I'd left her. Her wrists were raw from the tape and there were dark circles under her eyes, but her back was still straight. Still defiant.

"Good morning, Sarah," I said, pulling my chair closer this time.

"My name is Maya."

"Right. Maya Carter." I opened her file and spread some of the documents across the small table between us. "Born in Seattle. Or was it Portland? The paperwork seems confused about that."

I watched her eyes move across the papers. Her expression didn't change, but I caught the slight tightening around her mouth.

"Foster care from age six," I continued. "Moved around a lot. Four different families in two years. That must have been hard."

"What do you want?" she asked.

"I want to know why someone with government connections cared enough about a stripper to give her a completely fabricated identity."

This time I definitely saw her flinch.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"These documents took serious work, Maya. Professional work. The kind that costs six figures and requires friends in very high places."

She stared at the papers like they might bite her.

"So I'll ask again," I said, leaning forward. "Who are you really? And why is someone so invested in keeping your past buried?"

"I'm nobody."

"Nobody doesn't get this kind of protection."

"I don't know anything about those papers."

I gathered up the documents and set them aside. Time for a different approach.

"Let me tell you what I think happened," I said. "I think Sarah isn't just your friend. I think she's your handler. Your keeper. Someone assigned to watch you and keep you in line."

"That's insane."

"Is it? Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like you've been managed your entire life. Moved around, records altered, identity obscured. That's not random, Maya. That's systematic."

Her breathing was getting faster. I was hitting something.

"And now Sarah's disappeared and left you holding the bag for my brother's murder. Doesn't sound like much of a friend to me."

"Sarah wouldn't do that."

"No? Then where is she?"

Maya didn't answer.

"She knew we were coming," I continued. "That's why she begged you to take her place. She used you as a decoy so she could run."

"Stop."

"She's probably halfway across the country by now, laughing about how easy it was to fool you."

"Stop it."

"While you sit here taking the blame for her crime."

"She didn't kill your brother!" Maya's voice cracked on the last word.

"Then who did?"

She pressed her lips together and looked away.

I stood up and started pacing around her chair. "You know what I think? I think you're protecting someone who doesn't deserve it. Someone who's been lying to you for years."

"You don't know anything about Sarah."

"I know she abandoned you."

"She didn't abandon me."

"Then where is she, Maya? Where is your loyal friend when you need her most?"

"She's scared."

"Of what?"

Maya closed her eyes. "Of you. Of what you'll do to her."

"What I'll do to her is nothing compared to what she did to Randoff."

"She didn't kill him."

"You keep saying that, but you weren't there. How do you know?"

"Because I know Sarah."

"Do you? Do you really know her, or do you just know what she's told you?"

Maya's hands were shaking now. I could see her resolve starting to c***k.

"Think about it," I said, moving closer. "Your entire life has been managed by people you've never met. Your friend disappears the moment things get dangerous. Your past has been erased by professionals. And you're sitting here protecting the one person who could end this nightmare."

"Sarah saved me."

"From what?"

She didn't answer, but I could see the tears starting to form in her eyes.

"From what, Maya?"

"It doesn't matter."

"It matters to me."

I crouched down in front of her chair so we were eye level. "Whatever Sarah did for you, it doesn't give her the right to use you like this. To let you take the fall for murder."

"You don't understand."

"Then help me understand."

Maya looked at me with those dark eyes and I could see her breaking apart inside. Whatever hold Sarah had over her ran deep. Deeper than fear. Deeper than friendship.

"She's the only person who ever..." Maya started, then stopped.

"Who ever what?"

"Who ever protected me."

"Protected you from what?"

The tears were flowing freely now, but she was still fighting me. Still trying to hold on to whatever secret was eating her alive.

"Maya," I said quietly. "I can see you're hurting. I can see this is destroying you. But I need to know the truth. About Sarah. About what happened to my brother. About who you really are."

She was trembling now, her whole body shaking with the effort of holding back whatever she was hiding.

"Please," I said. "Just tell me the truth."

Maya looked up at me with broken eyes and I knew I'd finally reached her. Whatever wall she'd built around her secrets was crumbling.

"There's something you need to know," she whispered.

And then she took a shuddering breath and began to break.