Victor didn't waste any time. He turned to his right-hand man, Adrian, who was waiting outside the door.
"Where is Jonathan now?" Victor asked, his tone sharp.
Adrian nodded toward the hallway. "On his way. Our men picked him up an hour ago. He'll be here soon."
Victor exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders. "Good. Put him in the room next to hers. Make sure she knows he's here."
Adrian smirked. "That'll shake her up."
Victor didn't respond. His mind was already calculating the next step. He needed information, and he needed it fast. If Camilla refused to talk, Jonathan might be the key to breaking her.
Minutes later, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the building. The steel door at the end of the hall swung open, and two of Victor's men dragged in a struggling figure—Jonathan Robbinson.
Jonathan's eyes darted around wildly, panic settling in as he took in his surroundings. "What the hell is this? Let me go!"
Victor approached him slowly, his presence commanding. "Jonathan, you're here because of your dear sister. She's been keeping secrets, and I don't like secrets."
Jonathan scowled, his breath heavy. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Victor chuckled darkly. "That's the problem, isn't it? You don't know anything. But you will soon." He motioned to his men. "Take him inside. Let them hear each other, but no talking—yet."
Jonathan struggled, but it was useless. The door slammed shut behind him.
Victor took a step back, listening. From inside Camilla's cell, there was a sharp intake of breath.
She knew.
Victor smirked.
"Let's see how long she lasts now."
Hunger and thirst did not affect Camilla Robbinson enough to make her talk, but the moment she heard Jonathan was in the same facility, her composure started to crack. Her hands clenched into tight fists, her breathing grew uneven, and her mind raced. She had spent years keeping Jonathan away from this world, shielding him from the consequences of her choices. Now, he was here—because of her.
She paced the cold floor of the cell, her throat dry, her stomach twisted in knots. The dim light barely illuminated the room, but it was enough for her to see the steel door that separated her from freedom. She knew Victor was ruthless, but dragging Jonathan into this? That was a low blow.
On the other side of the wall, Jonathan was just as unsettled. He banged on the door, demanding answers. "Camilla! Are you in there? What's going on?"
Camilla's breath hitched. She wanted to respond, to reassure him, but she knew Victor was listening. Speaking out of desperation would only make things worse.
Meanwhile, outside the cells, Victor leaned against the wall, arms crossed, watching through a small monitor as the tension unfolded. He smirked, satisfied. "She's breaking," he murmured to Adrian, who stood beside him.
"She's holding on for now," Adrian replied. "But not for long."
Victor turned his gaze back to the screen, his eyes dark with amusement. "Let's see how long she lasts with her precious brother in the next room."
Inside her cell, Camilla pressed her hands against the cold metal door, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. She had been strong all this time. But with Jonathan caught in the middle, the walls of her resistance were starting to crumble.
Victor smirked as he heard Camilla's voice echo through the dimly lit hallway. He had expected her to last a little longer, but it seemed the mere presence of Jonathan had broken through her defenses faster than hunger or thirst ever could.
He strolled towards her cell, his footsteps deliberate, savoring the moment. As the heavy metal door creaked open, he leaned against the frame, arms crossed, looking down at her with amusement.
"Well, well," he drawled, tilting his head. "Look who finally found her voice."
Camilla's eyes burned with frustration, but she kept her expression controlled. She knew she couldn't afford to let Victor see just how much he had gotten under her skin. "I need to speak to you. Alone."
Victor let out a low chuckle. "Alone? You're not really in a position to make demands, Camilla."
She took a slow breath, steadying herself. "Jonathan has nothing to do with this. You want information? Fine. But let him go."
Victor studied her carefully, his smirk never fading. "Interesting. You're suddenly willing to cooperate? I should've brought him in sooner." He clicked his tongue mockingly. "But here's the problem, Camilla. How do I know you won't just feed me another lie?"
She clenched her jaw, knowing this was going to be a battle of wits. "Because if you keep him here, you're wasting time. You're smart enough to know that if I was truly your enemy, I wouldn't care what happens to him."
Victor narrowed his eyes, considering her words. He enjoyed watching her squirm, but more than that, he needed real answers. "Alright," he said finally. "Let's talk. But whether or not your dear Jonathan walks free depends entirely on what you tell me."
Camilla exhaled slowly. She had just bought Jonathan some time—but now, she had to make sure she didn't end up sealing her own fate.
Victor signaled his men to step back, then entered the dimly lit cell where Camilla stood, her hands clenched at her sides. He pulled up a chair, the metal scraping against the concrete floor as he sat down across from her, his piercing gaze locked onto hers.
"Start talking," he said, his voice cold. "And make it worth my time."
Camilla swallowed, her throat dry. She knew this was a dangerous game—if she said too much, she'd be signing her own death sentence. But if she said too little, Victor would have no reason to let Jonathan go.
"I didn't betray you," she said, her voice steady despite the tension in the air. "I was set up."
Victor raised an eyebrow. "So you keep saying. But who, Camilla? Who would go through the trouble of framing you, knowing exactly how I'd react?"
She hesitated for a fraction of a second, then leaned forward slightly. "Jillian Smith."
Victor's eyes darkened, his smirk vanishing. "Jillian?"
"She's been playing you, Victor. She sent you that voice note, didn't she?" Camilla pressed on, watching his expression closely. "She wanted to turn you against me. You think I'm the traitor, but she's the one pulling the strings."
Victor remained silent for a moment, his fingers tapping against the armrest of his chair. He had suspected there was more to the situation than what was on the surface. But was Camilla truly telling the truth, or was she just desperate to shift the blame?
Camilla saw the doubt flicker in his eyes and decided to push further. "You're smart, Victor. If I was truly guilty, I wouldn't be sitting here now—I would've disappeared before you even had a chance to catch me." She leaned back, feigning confidence. "But I didn't. Because I have nothing to hide."
Victor let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "You expect me to believe Jillian outsmarted me? That she's the mastermind behind all of this?"
Camilla smirked slightly. "Haven't you underestimated her before?"
The words lingered in the air like a challenge, and for the first time, Victor wasn't sure what to believe. If Camilla was lying, she was doing an excellent job. And if she was telling the truth… then he had just been played.
His grip on the chair tightened. He needed more proof. More answers.
And one way or another, he was going to get them.