Page 53 of Obsession (Dark Revenge)
“Finn is tailing him. He’s out with a lady friend. They should be back soon enough.”
I nodded, and we proceeded to the building entrance. Michael took the lead, approaching the receptionist. From a distance, no one would suspect that Michael was attempting to access an unauthorized area. He appeared to be casually flirting with her, eliciting a smile. Yet, upon closer inspection, it was evidentthat her eyes held no warmth. She was tied to something much darker than the average person.
The woman handed him a keycard, and Michael accepted it with gratitude before we headed to the elevator. I retrieved my mask from my inner pocket, a precaution in case Rick returned earlier than expected. I knew the surveillance had already been handled. However, I was surprised to see Michael do the same. I hadn’t pegged him as the overly cautious type, but maybe he was the cousin I would find more agreeable than the others.
The elevator doors opened, and we entered. Michael swiped the keycard, and we were taken to the highest floor. As the doors opened again, we stepped into a vast lobby that extended into a spacious living room with floor-to-ceiling windows, offering a stunning view of the city.
Michael swiftly went his way, moving to the left to explore that part of the house, while I went to the right, heading down a corridor. We remained in the darkness, refraining from turning on any lights as we conducted our search. I stumbled upon a guestroom and began meticulously inspecting the drawers, closet, and bathroom, yet found nothing out of the ordinary.
I retraced my steps, noticing Michael approaching me with a shake of his head, then gesturing upward. We climbed the stairs to the next floor, and the first room we encountered was an office. Michael entered and began to carefully search the room, ensuring nothing was left out of place. He meticulously examined the papers on the desk before moving on to the drawers.
Meanwhile, I explored the contents of a liquor cabinet before turning my attention to a small bookshelf filled with books. Aside from a small bag of cocaine, I found nothing particularly intriguing. However, my attention was soon drawn by Michael’s low whistle, causing me to spin around. He had taken a seat and was idly flipping something between his fingers.
I walked over to him, and he extended a business card toward me. I studied it, feeling perplexed. The card contained contact information for Rick, but what baffled me was that it labeled him as an “agent”. As far as I knew, Rick was not an agent. He owned a successful tech company with international operations that had earned him considerable wealth. So, why the designation “agent”?
“High,” Michael said, pointing upward, then pointed down, saying, “Low.”
“What?” I asked, puzzled.
His mask only covered the upper half of his face, allowing me to see the grin spreading across his lips.
“Who would you rather deal with? A high-class escort or a street-level prostitute?” he taunted.
“Neither,” I replied flatly.
He chuckled. “Well, I bet the men from Rick’s world are as selective about their women as their wives are about their handbags.”
His cryptic remarks only served to deepen my confusion, but as I looked at the enigmatic card again, I began to understand his message.
“They are scouting for women,” I groaned.
“I’d wager the woman he’s currently with is a potential target,” Michael suggested.
“But they were involved in trafficking women at the harbor,” I protested.
“Yes, because you didn’t think they were only selling the girls here, did you?” he pointed out. “Sending them to other countries makes it much harder to trace.”
“Fuck,” I whispered, realizing the scope of this operation was far larger than I had initially thought. How long had these men been orchestrating their scheme? How many individuals wereworking with them? This was going to be a lengthy and complex mission.
“Or maybe these girls,” he mused, taking the card from my hand, “are for the wealthy, and the others are destined for the streets. Either way, we have our work cut out for us.”
He was right, but this card didn’t have an address. It was as if Michael could read my thoughts, and he reached for another, larger card, extending it to me. This one was an invitation to a club. I recognized the place. It was just a regular nightclub not far from here. However, the knowing smile on Michael’s lips indicated that he, like me, saw it as a perfect cover.
“Two weeks from now. It looks like your wedding might be postponed a bit,” he teased.
“How unfortunate,” I muttered, hearing him chuckle before he carefully returned both items to their original positions.
“Let’s see if we can uncover anything else, but time is running short, so let’s move quickly.”
We exited the office, ensuring everything was left exactly as we had found it, and continued down the hallway. Eventually, we reached Rick’s bedroom. It appeared tidy and orderly, but I couldn’t help but think that Rick probably enjoyed “testing the merchandise”, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the bed ended up in disarray later.
As I walked past a small shelf with pictures, my eyes fell on a very old photograph of a group of young men standing on a soccer field, their arms around each other. I picked up the picture and realized I was looking at a young version of Rick. He had certainly changed over the years, gaining a few pounds and experiencing thinning hair.
However, alongside his younger self, I recognized the faces of the others involved in this operation. I had to admit that Alison’s father was the one who had remained most unchanged compared to the pictures I had seen of the others. But I hadfound it—the connection they shared ran much deeper than I had expected. They had known each other since they were young boys, implying that this scheme might have been ongoing since they were young men. I recalled how Kyle and his friends had quickly started a business in college. Could this be a similar story?
I carefully returned the picture to its place and turned to Michael, who hadn’t uncovered anything of interest in the room. He walked out, and I followed. We reached the last door, and I reached out to try the handle, only to find it locked. This piqued my curiosity. It was unusual.
“Let’s hold off on that. We only have 10 minutes left. Let’s go,” Michael insisted, but an inner voice compelled me to see what lay behind the door.
