The Crimson Silence

Edge of Revelation

Jake retrieved the contents from the safe deposit box and headed to a nearby studio to print the photos for the Gala display. He’d chosen images that captured the spirit of New York—scenes from different neighborhoods, and a portrait. While waiting for the prints, Jake steadied himself, breathing slowly to keep his mind focused, knowing he’d need to bide his time carefully. After reviewing the prints, satisfied with the results, he arranged for them to be delivered directly to Roscoe Tower, where the Gala would soon unfold. His mind buzzed with more than just anticipation; it was filled with the electric charge of expectation—of something darker that he couldn’t shake. This night would be pivotal.

As he exited from the studio, Jake's bag vibrated. His hand darted inside, fingers wrapping around the burner phone he’d taken from Andrew. The screen lit up with a message:

“Aphrodite 8 PM RT FRIDAY.”

A shiver ran through him. It sounded like a code, maybe a meeting point, maybe a trap. His pulse quickened, but he pocketed the phone, forcing himself to stay calm. Whatever Oizys was planning, Jake was ready to confront it.

Arriving at Cynthia’s, he found the house buzzing with pre-gala energy. Sam and Lisa were laughing, poring over accessories, and talking through last-minute adjustments. Since Katie needed to rest, Lisa and Sam had decided to attend the Gala together. She’d picked a striking red dress, nudging Sam to find a suit that complemented her look. Cynthia was radiant in a custom gown, the flowing fabric accentuating her natural elegance, and Jake found himself momentarily taken aback.

Amongst the whirl of activity, Jake noticed Alexandra, sitting on the edge of the room with a distant look. Something about her quiet presence pulled him, and he crossed the room, taking a seat beside her.

“You should come to the Gala,” he offered, a gentle smile in his eyes.

But Alexandra's gaze hardened as it flicked to him, then to Cynthia. “No, Jacob. I don’t want to… You have everything you need already, don’t you?” Her voice was tinged with something cold, almost accusing.

The air thickened as Jake met her gaze, understanding her implication. Before he could respond, Alexandra’s eyes bore into him, her words edged with vulnerability.

“Do you… like her?”

Jake’s chest tightened, the directness of her question catching him off guard. For a second, he faltered. He opened his mouth, but his mind raced, trying to find the right words. He cleared his throat, brushing off the awkwardness.

“It’s… it’s not what you think.” His reply was evasive, but the flush of his face gave him away.

Alexandra scoffed, her expression wounded yet resigned. Without another word, she stood and walked off, leaving Jake with a twinge of guilt and a dozen unspoken thoughts.

As preparations continued, the mood lightened. They laughed about outfit mishaps, shared last-minute tips. Then, just as Jake was about to leave with Sam to buy their suits, his phone rang. Glancing at the screen, he saw it was Mathew.

“Lieutenant… Hi,” Jake greeted, his tone composed yet wary.

“Evening, Jacob. I heard you’d asked about me earlier today. Is there something you wanted to discuss?” Mathew’s voice was calm but held a tinge of curiosity, even suspicion.

Jake hesitated, then dove in. “Yeah… it’s complicated. When I was at Angela’s place, I saw some photos of her with her late husband. Do you know much about him?”

There was a pause, Mathew’s tone shifting, each word measured. “Jonathan. Angela’s husband was murdered three days before he was set to testify against Wesley Energy Corp. A key witness. Then, about a year later, Andrew Wesley himself was killed. Angela’s entire world was upended.”

Jake’s mind raced. “And what about Angela?”

“She was section chief at the time of his death. The Bureau promoted her swiftly after that, making her one of their youngest directors. It was… unorthodox. And let’s say her rapid rise raised more than a few eyebrows,” Mathew added, a faint edge to his voice.

Jake’s mind turned over the pieces, connecting Angela’s meteoric ascent and Jonathan’s untimely death. “Do you think she had any involvement in her husband’s murder?”

There was a slight hesitation. “There’s no concrete evidence. But her brother’s recent death only deepens the shadows. Let’s just say… a pattern’s emerging,” Mathew replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jake nodded, the weight of the call settling heavily on him. “Thanks, Lieutenant. I appreciate the trust.”

“Just… watch your back, Jacob.” With that, Mathew hung up.

Later, Jake and Sam arrived at the tailor’s. Cynthia had arranged for their fitting, so they both had a selection waiting. Jake opted for a sleek black tuxedo, pairing it with a classic bow tie. Sam chose a sharp blue suit that matched Lisa’s dress. As they finalized their outfits, Jake caught a glimpse of a figure across the street—a shadow standing in the dim glow of a store window. He couldn’t make out their features, but the person’s stance suggested they weren’t just a passerby. They were watching him.

A chill crawled up his spine, but he forced himself to look away, ignoring the prickling sense of being hunted. As they climbed into the car, Jake cast one last glance out the window. The figure was gone.

When they returned, Cynthia’s father had arranged for a private chef, who was busy plating an extravagant meal. The group gathered, the energy shifting to warmth and camaraderie. The conversation flowed, punctuated by laughter and gentle teasing, but Lisa’s eyes lingered on her brother. She noticed the shadows in his gaze, the burden he carried.

Quietly, she moved beside him, offering silent support. Jake’s lips curved into a small smile. He didn’t need words to appreciate the comfort of her presence.

As dawn broke, the house bustled with final preparations. The Gala would begin at 6 PM, with the auction following an hour later. They packed their attire, making sure every detail was perfect. Jake’s instincts warned him to be cautious, and he slipped his knife and gun discreetly into his bag. Alexandra decided to stay back with Katie, promising to keep watch. With Officer Francis stationed nearby, she’d be safe.

Jake, Sam, Lisa, and Cynthia arrived at Roscoe Tower amidst a flurry of photographers and dignitaries. The glitz and glamour of the event cloaked the tension simmering beneath the surface. Jake’s senses were heightened, every glance, every movement around him carrying a hint of danger. As he scanned the room, he spotted Angela entering, flanked by several FBI agents. The night was only beginning, and Jake knew he was stepping into the heart of a storm—one that could very well change everything.