Page 44 of Betray Me
The change in atmosphere is immediate and electric. Father’s eyes narrow, Mother’s hand freezes halfway to her own glass, and Victor leans forward like a snake preparing to strike.
“What kind of confession?” Victor asks, his voice dangerously soft.
I stand slowly, my movements deliberate and controlled. Years of training serve me well as I project calm confidence while my heart hammers against my ribs. “I've been wearing a wire. Everything you've said tonight has been recorded and transmitted to federal agents who are positioned outside this house. And in approximately thirty seconds, federal agents are going to come through that door to arrest you all.”
The silence that follows is deafening. Then chaos erupts.
Father lunges toward me, his face contorting with rage and betrayal. “You little bitch—what have you done?”
But before he can reach me, the dining room doors explode inward. Federal agents in tactical gear flood the room, weapons drawn, shouting commands that cut through the elegant atmosphere like chainsaws through silk.
“FBI! Get on the ground! Now!”
Father stumbles backward, his hands raised in shocked surrender. Mother’s martini glass shatters against the marble floor, gin and broken crystal spreading like tears across the pristine surface. Victor remains seated, his pale eyes fixed on me with an expression of such pure hatred that it steals my breath.
“Richard Gallagher, you’re under arrest for conspiracy, human trafficking, and murder,” Agent Smith announces, her voice carrying over the chaos. “You have the right to remain silent…”
The words fade into background noise as I watch my father—the man who shaped me into a weapon, who stole my childhood and replaced it with training in deception and violence—being handcuffed like a common criminal. His silver hair is disheveled, his expensive suit wrinkled, his carefully maintained façade crumbling to reveal the monster beneath.
“Belle,” he calls out as they drag him toward the door. “You don’t understand what you’ve done. You have no idea what’s coming for you now.”
The threat sends ice through my veins, but I force myself to meet his gaze steadily. “I understand perfectly. I’m saving myself and every other girl you would have destroyed.”
Agent Smith appears at my elbow, her expression professional but not unkind. “Ms. Gallagher, we need to get you out of here. There may be other assets in play, other threats we haven’t identified.”
I nod, allowing her to guide me toward the door. But as we pass Victor—now being roughly manhandled into handcuffs by two agents—he speaks in a voice so low only I can hear.
“Your father was right about one thing, Belle. You have no idea what’s coming. This network is bigger than your family, deeper than you can imagine. And the person who’s really in charge? He’s been watching you for years, waiting for exactly this moment.”
The words hit like ice water, but before I can respond, the agents drag him away. His pale eyes hold mine until the door slams shut between us, carrying a promise of retribution that makes my knees weak.
Agent Smith’s hand on my arm steadies me as we move through corridors I’ve known my entire life—corridors that now feel foreign, hostile, contaminated by the weight of what’s been revealed. Staff members huddle in doorways, their faces shocked and confused as federal agents swarm through the mansion like antibodies attacking an infection.
“Is it over?” I ask as we reach the front entrance, my voice smaller than I intended.
“This part is,” Agent Smith replies. “But Ms. Gallagher, you need to understand—taking down your family was just the beginning. The evidence you’ve provided has implications that reach far beyond what we initially suspected.”
“What about Dominic?” I ask. “Did you get him?”
Agent Smith shakes her head. “He must’ve used one of the secret tunnels we don’t know about. But don’t worry, we’ll find him.”
The black SUV waiting in the circular drive looks like a hearse in the evening shadows. As Agent Smith helps me into the back seat, I catch a glimpse of movement in an upstairs window—a figure in dark clothing watching our departure. But when I look again, the window is empty, and I can’t be sure I saw anything at all.
“You did good, Belle,” Agent Smith says, using my first name for the first time. “What you’ve done tonight will save lives.”
But as I sit in the sterile interrogation room, giving my statement to a parade of federal agents and prosecutors, Victor’s words echo in my mind:The person who’s really in charge has been watching you for years.
Who could be above my father in the hierarchy? Who has been pulling strings from shadows so deep that even Richard Gallagher answered to them? The network we’ve exposed tonight feels massive, tentacled, reaching into institutions and corporations I never suspected. But if there’s someone else out there—someone my father feared enough to go pale at the mention of—then my betrayal hasn’t ended the threat.
It’s just redirected it.
Hours later, as dawn breaks over the city in shades of gray and gold, I find myself in the back seat of another government vehicle, being transported to a safe house whose location is classified. The familiar landscape of my childhood slides past the bulletproof windows like scenes from someone else’s life.
My phone—a new, secure device provided by the FBI—buzzes with a text from an unknown number:Impressive performance tonight. But the real show is just beginning. You’ll hear from me soon. —A Friend
The message deletes itself before I can screenshot it, leaving no trace except the ice in my veins and the growing certainty that destroying my family has only revealed how much deeper this goes.
As the safe house comes into view—a nondescript building surrounded by chain-link fencing and government surveillance—I realize that tonight’s victory may have been exactly what someone else wanted. Someone who’s been orchestrating events from the shadows, using my rebellion as just another move in a game I don’t understand.
