Chapter 8 - The Hidden Lens
Damian violently threw Marcus to the floor. The massive bodyguard crashed against the hardwood, coughing and gasping for air as he clutched his broken wrist.
"You have no proof!" Marcus choked out, spitting blood onto the floor. He looked up at Damian with sheer, desperate defiance. "It's the word of a six-year-old kid against your head of security! The capos won't let you execute me over a child's imagination! You're paranoid!"
Damian stood over him, his chest heaving, his fists clenched tight enough to draw blood from his own palms. He knew Sophia was telling the truth, but Marcus was right about one thing: the syndicate required undeniable proof to execute a high-ranking lieutenant.
"He's right, Mr. Cross," Alina said quietly.
Damian turned his head. Alina was still kneeling on the floor, holding Sophia, but the terror had left her eyes. She looked at the bleeding security guard with absolute, cold disgust.
"It isn't just my daughter's word," Alina said, her voice steady. She pointed toward the ornate mahogany bookshelf on the far side of the room. "I dust that shelf every morning. Two weeks ago, I accidentally knocked over the decorative bronze clock. The back popped off."
Marcus’s eyes widened in sudden, suffocating horror.
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"I saw the green blinking light," Alina continued. "I know there's a hidden security camera inside the clock face, pointing directly at the breakfast cart."
👉 The traitor realized he was entirely doomed, and the digital proof was about to permanently seal his fate.
