🔥 Chapter 3: The Billionaire Answered the Call… and Heard the Voice of the Man Who Might Have Ordered a Murder
James stared at his phone.
RICHARD COLLINS.
The name glowed on the screen like a warning.
Outside the diner, the black SUV remained parked in the rain. The two men in suits hadn't moved. They were watching him.
Watching the diner.
Watching him.
A cold feeling crept up his spine.
"Are you okay?" Sarah asked softly.
James didn't answer.
Instead, he pressed Accept.
"Richard."
For a moment, there was only static.
Then came his business partner's familiar voice.
"James… where are you?"
The question sounded casual.
Too casual.
James glanced at the window.
The men outside were still staring at him.
"Why?"
"I've been trying to reach you all evening."
"I turned my phone off."
"You never turn your phone off."
James said nothing.
Richard chuckled nervously.
"Board members are worried. Your assistant said you canceled your entire week."
"I needed some time."
Another pause.
Then Richard spoke again.
"Are you alone?"
James's eyes narrowed.
"Why do you ask?"
"Because I need to discuss something important."
Outside, one of the men in suits began walking toward the diner entrance.
James's heart skipped.
"Can it wait until tomorrow?"
"No."
Richard's voice suddenly became serious.
"It can't."
The man outside stopped beneath the neon sign.
Rainwater dripped from his coat.
He reached for the door.
Then Richard asked a strange question.
"James… have you met anyone tonight?"
Silence.
Every instinct inside him screamed.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
"Why?"
"Just answer me."
The door of the diner opened.
The bell rang.
The man stepped inside.
Everyone looked up.
He scanned the room once.
Then his eyes landed directly on James.
"Sir?" the man said politely.
James slowly stood.
"Who are you?"
The man smiled.
"My name is Daniel. I work for Mr. Collins."
James felt Sarah tense beside him.
"How did you know I was here?"
Daniel glanced at the phone in James's hand.
"Mr. Collins tracked your car."
Tracked it.
James's jaw tightened.
"You put a tracker on my vehicle?"
Richard sighed through the phone.
"Relax. It was for security."
"For security?"
"James, listen to me carefully. Leave the diner and come with my people."
"Why?"
"Because you're in danger."
The words hung in the air.
James looked at Sarah.
At Emma.
At the photograph.
Then back at the man.
Danger from whom?
Richard answered before he could ask.
"The woman sitting next to you."
Sarah went pale.
"What?"
Richard's voice turned cold.
"Her husband stole millions of dollars from our company before he died."
James blinked.
"What are you talking about?"
"Michael Harper was an accountant for one of our subsidiaries."
James frowned.
He vaguely remembered the name.
Richard continued.
"He discovered a way to move money through fake charities."
"That's impossible."
"It's true."
Sarah shook her head violently.
"No! Michael never worked for your company!"
James looked at her.
"You didn't know?"
"No!"
Richard spoke again.
"She didn't know because her husband lied to her."
James's head spun.
Nothing made sense.
Then Richard said something that made his blood run cold.
"James… if she showed you a photograph, do not trust it."
Silence.
Complete silence.
"How do you know about the photograph?" James asked.
Richard didn't answer immediately.
That was answer enough.
Outside, the second man in the SUV stepped out.
Now there were three men.
All watching the diner.
James slowly lowered his phone.
"Richard… why are your people here?"
"To protect you."
"Or to take the photograph?"
No response.
"Richard."
Finally, his partner sighed.
"You shouldn't have gone there tonight."
A chill ran through James.
"What does that mean?"
"I tried to keep you out of this."
Out of this.
Not safe.
Not protected.
Out of this.
As if there was something to hide.
James looked at the picture in his hand.
Three men.
Michael.
Derek.
Richard.
Then he noticed something he had missed before.
The photograph wasn't taken at a party.
Or a restaurant.
It was taken in front of a building.
A building with a company logo.
He turned the picture over.
And froze.
Written on the back was an address.
Harbor Storage Facility – Unit 317
And below it:
THE FILES ARE THERE.
A pulse pounded in his ears.
Files.
What files?
Before he could think, Emma tugged his sleeve.
"Mister James…"
He looked down.
The little girl pointed at the window.
Derek had returned.
He was standing across the street.
In the rain.
Watching the diner.
And when their eyes met…
Derek smiled.
Not a friendly smile.
A terrifying one.
As if he knew something.
As if he had been waiting for this moment.
Then he slowly lifted his hand…
and made the shape of a gun with his fingers.
Pointing directly at Sarah.
James's blood turned to ice.
Sarah gasped.
"He found us."
Suddenly, the lights inside the diner went out.
Darkness.
Someone screamed.
A glass shattered.
Emma began crying.
Then—
BANG!
A gunshot exploded outside.
Then another.
BANG!
People dropped to the floor.
James grabbed Sarah and Emma, pulling them behind the booth.
"What is happening?" Sarah cried.
The front window shattered.
Glass flew everywhere.
Another shot.
Someone outside shouted:
"GET THE PHOTO!"
The men from the SUV rushed toward the diner.
Derek disappeared into the darkness.
Everything had become chaos.
And in the middle of it, James realized one horrifying truth:
This wasn't about money.
It wasn't about a house.
It wasn't even about Michael's death.
Someone was willing to kill…
for whatever was hidden inside Storage Unit 317.
Then he felt a tiny hand in his.
Emma looked up at him, trembling.
"Mister James…"
"Yes?"
She swallowed.
"Daddy said if bad people came… I should give you this."
From inside her jacket, she pulled out a small silver key.
A key with three numbers engraved on it.
317.
James stared at it.
The storage unit.
Michael had known.
Somehow…
he had known that one day James Mitchell would come.
And he had trusted him with the truth.
Another gunshot rang outside.
Then came a scream.
James looked up—
and saw one of Richard's men lying on the pavement.
Blood spreading beneath him.
The shooter stepped out of the darkness.
James's heart nearly stopped.
Because it wasn't Derek.
It was someone he knew.
Someone he had trusted for fifteen years.
Someone who worked in his company.
The man slowly raised his gun and pointed it toward the diner.
Then he shouted:
May you like
"MR. MITCHELL! GIVE US THE KEY… OR THE LITTLE GIRL DIES!"
TO BE CONTINUED…
Chapter 4: The Billionaire Opens Storage Unit 317—and Discovers a Secret Worth Killing For.
