Chapter 4 - The Shadow Hunt
Three weeks passed.
In the private intelligence room located on the sub-level of the Moreland headquarters in Manhattan, six monitors glowed in the dark, displaying mapping algorithms, traffic camera feeds, and facial recognition scans.
Damian Moreland sat in a leather chair behind his chief intelligence operator, a lean, sharp-eyed man named Eli.
On the table between them lay three empty coffee cups, dozens of printed bank statements, and a large map of the eastern seaboard marked with red pins.
"Nothing?" Damian asked, his voice rough from lack of sleep and too many cigars.
"Nothing, boss," Eli said, tapping a key to refresh a data stream. "We ran her social security number through every credit bureau in North America. No pings. We monitored every pharmacy record for specialized infant formula—nothing. She isn't buying online; she isn't using registered home delivery services."
Damian ran a heavy hand over his face. In three weeks, he had lost four pounds. The crisp, immaculate image he usually presented was beginning to show cracks. The scandal of his wife vanishing on the night of his son's birth had leaked into the upper circles of the syndicate. Rumors were circulating that the great Damian Moreland couldn't even control his own household, weakening his standing among the rival families in Philadelphia and New York.
The door to the room opened, and Sabrina Cole walked in.
She was dressed in a tailored crimson sheath dress, her dark hair falling in smooth, polished waves over her shoulders. She carried a leather portfolio under her arm.
"Damian," Sabrina said softly, stepping toward his chair and placing a manicured hand on his shoulder. "You've been down here for eighteen hours. You need to come upstairs. The board members for the Port Authority deal are waiting in the main conference room."
Damian didn't look up at her. He stared at the blank monitor screen showing a dark map of Connecticut.
"Reschedule them," Damian said coldly.
Sabrina’s jaw tightened slightly. She pulled her hand back. "Damian, be reasonable. It’s been three weeks. She made her choice. She ran because she wanted to make a statement, to humiliate you before the board! You cannot let a runaway wife ruin a ninety-million-dollar acquisition!"
Damian turned his head slowly. His eyes locked onto Sabrina with a freezing intensity that made her step back a inch.
"She didn't run to make a statement, Sabrina," Damian said, his voice dropping into a terrifyingly low register. "She ran because I sat in a hotel suite with you while she was bleeding on my kitchen floor."
Sabrina’s face flushed red. "I was helping you close the deal!"
"You were laughing," Damian corrected her, his eyes unblinking. "You made sure she heard you over the phone."
"I didn't know she was on the line!" Sabrina defended herself, her tone turning defensive and sharp. "And even if she was, why are you blaming me? You're the one who stayed! You're the one who told her you needed another few hours!"
Damian stood up slowly, towering over her in the dim light of the intelligence room. "Get out."
Sabrina gasped. "What?"
"Pack your things from the Miami office," Damian said flatly. "Your consulting contract with Moreland Development is terminated as of five minutes ago."
"Damian, you can't do that!" Sabrina shouted, her composure cracking completely. "I have agreements! I have equity in the Florida holdings!"
"I don't give a damn about the Florida holdings," Damian growled, stepping into her space until she was forced to back up against the doorway. "If I hear your name near my business again, or if you ever reach out to any member of my family, I will personally ensure the FBI receives those financial files Malcolm Reed is holding. Now get out of my sight."
Sabrina stared at him in utter shock, her face pale, before she turned on her high heels and stormed out of the room, her heels clicking violently against the concrete floor.
Damian turned back to Eli. "Expand the search. Look beyond the cities. Look for small towns in Maine, Vermont, upstate New York. Somewhere with no digital footprint, no cameras, no corporate housing."
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"Boss," Eli said quietly, looking up from his screen. "If she went completely off-grid... she could be anywhere in the country. She could be living under a dead person's name with cash."
"Then buy more servers," Damian commanded, leaning over the console. "She has my son. And I will burn down every state in this country until I hold him."
