Chapter 3 - The Shadow of the PastThirty minutes later, Vector was tied tightly to a tree trunk, blubbering and revealing every piece of evidence Eleanor needed: audio recordings of Julian hiring them, offshore bank account details, and the exact timetable for filing the fraudulent life insurance claim.
Eleanor stood over him, scrolling through the recordings on Vector's encrypted phone. Listening to her husband’s cold, calculated voice ordering her assassination didn't break her heart—it shattered the last remnant of her mercy.
She remembered the day she met Julian five years ago. She had saved his life during a high-stakes corporate hostage situation in Dubai. Falling in love with him had been her attempt to leave the blood and violence of her covert life behind. She had intentionally buried her past, playing the dutiful, modest wife, building a multimillion-dollar logistics empire while letting Julian feel like the master of his world.
He mistook my silence for weakness, she thought, her knuckles turning white as she clutched the phone. He mistook my love for stupidity.
Eleanor pulled out her high-frequency satellite communicator—a device she hadn't touched in five years. She dialed a private, unlisted frequency.
"Operator 01," a deep, authoritative voice answered instantly on the line. "Is that you, Ghost?"
"It's me, Marcus," Eleanor replied, her voice cold as steel. "I need full tactical support, asset lockdown protocols, and deep surveillance on Julian Vance. He thinks I'm dead."
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A pause on the line, followed by a dark chuckle. "Poor fool. What are your orders, Commander?"
"Let him celebrate," Eleanor smiled grimly. "Let him feel like a king for forty-eight hours. Then, we burn his world to ashes."
