7: Peril at Every Turn
Volume Summary: During the rescue of Isabella, Jack uncovers a deeper conspiracy behind Richard. He realizes that what he faces is not just personal revenge, but a far more dangerous power struggle. He must proceed with caution to protect himself and those close to him.
Chapter 14: Fight for Survival
Jack and Emily sat hunched in the dim corner of the abandoned theater beneath the flickering glow of a single lamp. The weak light barely pushed back the encroaching darkness, yet it cast sharp shadows across their tired expressions—expressions weighed down by fear, exhaustion, and the gravity of what they had just learned.
"He's laundering money through offshore accounts?" Jack repeated Donny's words, his voice low and filled with disbelief. Richard's greed and cunning never ceased to shock him.
"That's not all," Donny continued over the phone, his tone laced with unease. "I uncovered something even bigger. That offshore company is linked to Project Obsidian."
"Project Obsidian? What is that?" Emily gasped, her voice trembling. She had never heard the name before.
Jack's mind raced as he sifted through every piece of information he'd ever come across, searching desperately for any clue about the ominous-sounding project. The name alone sent a chill down his spine.
"It's an ultra-secret financial operation involving billions in illegal transfers," Donny explained. "It may even be tied to international money laundering networks. And here's the worst part—Richard might not even be the one pulling the strings. I suspect he's just a pawn in a much larger game."
Jack exhaled slowly, forcing himself to stay composed. He now understood—he was deeper in this conspiracy than he had ever imagined. Richard wasn't the mastermind; he was merely a figurehead. The real danger lay hidden in the shadows, controlled by forces unknown.
"Donny, keep digging," Jack said firmly. "Find out everything you can—every detail, every participant. We're past the point of turning back. If we want to survive, we need the full truth."
After ending the call, Jack met Emily's gaze. Both of them knew—they were walking on the edge of a blade. One misstep, and they would fall into oblivion.
"We need to get our gala outfits," Jack said, urgency returning to his voice. "Time is running out."
Emily's eyes lit up slightly. "You mentioned a friend who designs clothes. Can we trust him?"
"His name is Marcus. We went to college together. He works at a high-end tailor shop now," Jack replied. "He's honest—and talented. He'll help us."
With careful steps, they left the safety of the theater and hailed a taxi toward Marcus's studio. Night deepened around them. The streets grew quieter, only the occasional car breaking the silence.
Marcus's studio was nestled inside a repurposed loft in SoHo. As they pushed open the heavy wooden door, the scent of perfume and fabric filled the air. The space was cluttered with sketches, swatches, and half-finished garments, while celebrity portraits and fashion covers adorned the walls.
Marcus—a tall, curly-haired young man—was bent over a table, adjusting a silk collar with delicate precision. He looked up when they entered, and his face broke into a wide grin.
"Jack! My old friend! What brings you here?" He set aside his scissors and embraced Jack warmly.
"Marcus, long time no see," Jack said, clapping him on the shoulder. "This is Emily. A good friend."
"Pleased to meet you, Miss Emily," Marcus said, giving her a once-over with appreciative eyes. "Absolutely stunning."
"Marcus, we need your help," Jack got straight to the point.
"Anything. You know I'm always here for you," Marcus said without hesitation.
Jack quickly explained their situation—their need to infiltrate a charity gala, the threat posed by Richard, and the danger they faced if they failed.
As Jack spoke, Marcus's expression shifted from curiosity to concern. When he finished, Marcus nodded gravely.
"I've heard of Richard Lane. He's powerful. Dangerous. Be careful," Marcus warned. "But don't worry—I'll make sure you look like you belong there."
For the next hour, Marcus worked with the precision of a seasoned professional. He measured them carefully, studied their posture and style, and selected pieces that flattered their figures and personalities.
Emily slipped into a champagne-colored silk gown—elegant, refined, and shimmering softly under the studio lights. It accentuated her delicate features, making her look both poised and ethereal.
Jack wore a navy-blue tailored suit—sharp, confident, and perfectly cut to his frame. He stood taller, exuding quiet strength.
They stared at themselves in the mirror, transformed. Confidence surged within them. They were ready.
"Thank you, Marcus," Jack said sincerely.
"My pleasure," Marcus smiled. "Good luck out there. Stay safe."
Back at the theater, they pored over every detail of Robert and Elizabeth Harrison's lives. They needed to know everything—how they spoke, how they moved, how they thought. Mistakes weren't an option.
The night deepened. Time pressed forward.
Suddenly, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed outside the theater. Jack snapped into alert mode. He motioned for Emily to turn off the lamp. In total darkness, they held their breath, pressing into the shadows.
The footsteps grew louder, closer.
Then—bang! The heavy doors flew open. A beam of bright light sliced through the gloom.
"I know you're in here!" A voice rang out—smooth, cold, and triumphant.
Richard.
Jack and Emily exchanged glances. Their hearts pounded.
They had been found.
The trap had sprung.
There was no escape.
Cornered, outnumbered, and outgunned—they had only one choice.
Survive.