Chapter 5 - The Laundry Room
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Victor didn't wait to see more. He left the security room, moving silently through the labyrinth of the basement corridors until he reached the expansive, industrial-sized laundry room. The air smelled of bleach and fresh linen. He stepped into the shadows behind a towering stack of folded towels and waited.
Ten minutes later, the heavy wooden door pushed open. Marta walked in, carrying a massive woven basket overflowing with expensive bedsheets. She was humming a quiet Polish lullaby to calm her nerves, completely unaware of the predator waiting in the room.
Victor stepped out of the shadows.
Marta gasped, dropping the heavy basket. Crisp white sheets spilled across the immaculate tile floor. Her face drained of all color, her eyes widening in absolute terror.
“Mr. Victor?” she stammered, backing away until her spine hit the edge of the deep utility sink. “You… you are supposed to be gone. You are in Chicago.”
“I lied,” Victor said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that commanded the space. He took a slow step forward, keeping his hands open and visible at his sides. “I saw you in my mother’s room, Marta. I saw the water. I saw what you took from her mouth.”
Marta’s breathing turned rapid and shallow. She clutched the fabric of her apron with white-knuckled hands, her eyes darting toward the heavy door as if calculating her chances of escape.
“I do my job,” Marta whispered, her voice trembling violently. “I clean the rooms. I wash the clothes. That is all.”
“You saved those capsules,” Victor pushed, his tone steady, refusing to let her hide behind her duties. “You hid them. Why?”
Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating. Marta squeezed her eyes shut, terrified of the man standing before her. She knew who Victor Costa was. Everyone on the payroll knew the source of his massive wealth, even if they never spoke of it.
“I am not angry with you, Marta,” Victor said softly, softening his posture. “I need you to understand that. I am thanking you. But I need the truth.”
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Marta opened her eyes. Tears spilled over her eyelashes, tracking quickly down her pale cheeks.
“That is easy for a powerful man to say,” she choked out, her accent thickening with emotion. “But you do not know the danger in this house.”
