Chapter 2 - THE CONFRONTATIONThe lock clicked open. Rory Starks stood in the doorway, his broad frame blocking the light. His dark eyes, red-rimmed from weeks without sleep, scanned the small bathroom. His gaze locked onto Veronica’s hands, which were pinned behind her back against the edge of the marble sink.
"You're shaking," Rory said smoothly, though the danger in his tone was unmistakable. He took a slow step forward. "I don't like nervous people in my house, Veronica. Nervous people make mistakes. And mistakes get people killed."
"Mr. Starks," Veronica said, forcing herself to meet his eyes. She knew that showing fear to a predator like Rory was a death sentence. "I didn't make a mistake. The doctors did. All of them."
Rory frowned, his brow furrowing. "What are you talking about?"
Slowly, Veronica brought her hands around and laid the gutted teddy bear on the counter, pulling back the terrycloth towel to expose the black cylinder and the glowing digital display.
"This was inside 'Mr. Barnaby,'" she whispered. "It’s an infrasound emitter. It emits high-decibel waves at a frequency human ears can't consciously hear, but the brain processes it as pure, instinctual terror. It causes unbearable headaches, inner-ear pressure, and intense hallucinations. It's programmed to trigger its maximum payload every night at 3:00 a.m."
Rory stared at the exposed circuitry. For five long seconds, the silence in the bathroom was deafening. The powerful mob boss, a man who commanded an empire of blood and steel, reached out with a trembling hand and touched the cold metal cylinder.
"Aunt Susan..." Rory muttered, his voice cracking slightly. "Susan gave them this bear."
"It’s torturing them, Mr. Starks," Veronica said softly. "It’s been torturing them for two months."
The pain in Rory's eyes vanished, instantly replaced by a terrifying, cold fury that filled the room like oxygen catching fire. The veins on his neck bulged as he slammed his fist into the marble countertop, shattering the edge of the stone.
"CALL DOMINIC," Rory roared toward the hallway.
Within seconds, his chief enforcer, a towering man with a scar running from his ear to his jaw, burst into the room with a drawn firearm.
"Boss?" Dominic grunted, eyes darting around.
"Seal the estate," Rory commanded, his voice cold enough to freeze water. "Nobody leaves. Cut the landlines. Lock down the front gates. And bring my sister Susan to the basement. Now."
Dominic nodded grimly and pulled out his radio. But as he turned to leave, Veronica stepped forward. "Wait!" she called out.
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Rory spun around, his dark gaze locked on her. "You did good, maid. You saved my girls. You'll get a million dollars for this. Now get out of my way."
"You don't understand, Mr. Starks," Veronica said, pointing at the circuit board. "I checked the micro-receiver attached to the battery. This isn't just a timer. It's a transmitter. Whoever planted this wasn't just trying to torture your children... they've been listening to everything in this house for sixty days."
