Entangled Decision (Episode Three)
The night was thick with tension, and my heart raced as I crept through the quiet hallways of the Montgomery estate. My breath came in shallow bursts, each one reverberating in the silence like a countdown to disaster. I had to find out the truth about Henry,.. what kind of man he really was, and what he was capable of. For Richard’s sake, and for mine, I needed to know.
The key had been too easy to find. It had slipped from Richard’s pocket during a brief moment of distraction earlier that day, falling unnoticed on the carpet. I didn’t think, I just grabbed it. It had to be the key to Henry’s office—the one place I was sure I could find answers to.
As I approached the door to his study, I paused, my fingers brushing against the cold metal. My hands were trembling, my mind clouded with fear and guilt. This wasn’t a decision I had taken lightly. But I had no choice. I needed to know the man I was up against.
The key slid into the lock with a satisfying click, and I stepped inside.
The office was just as I expected—opulent, cold, and meticulously organized. The soft hum of the air conditioning was the only sound as I cautiously moved to the large oak desk. Papers were scattered across the surface, but they all seemed too important, too formal for my untrained eye. I rifled through them quickly, knowing time wasn’t on my side.
But then, a particular document caught my eye. It was a ledger of some kind, filled with names, figures, and dates. As I skimmed through the pages, a chill ran down my spine. Some of the names were unrecognizable, but others… they were familiar. Connections to the kinds of businesses Henry ran, the ones Richard had always mentioned with a hint of admiration in his voice.
Suddenly, I heard it.
Footsteps.
I froze. My heart pounded as the sound of boots echoing on the wooden floor grew louder. I spun around, my mind scrambling. There was nowhere to hide. I darted behind a large bookshelf, my body pressed flat against the wood, holding my breath.
The door opened with a soft creak, and I heard Henry’s voice.
“Yeah, we’ll pay them. I don’t care what it takes. Just make sure it’s done, clean and fast.”
I blinked, trying to understand what I was hearing. My pulse thundered in my ears, my thoughts scrambling to make sense of it.
He continued, oblivious to my presence, the conversation seemingly casual. “Richard’s getting too close. If he gets in the way, we’ll deal with it. I’ll handle him. Just make sure no one suspects anything.”
My breath caught in my throat.
Richard.
Henry was talking about his son; his own flesh and blood, as if he were some kind of obstacle to be removed.
I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t wrap my mind around what I had just heard. Henry Montgomery, the man I had once trusted, was plotting to have Richard… removed? Just like that?
I squeezed my eyes shut, fighting the nausea threatening to overtake me. Has Richard ever been truly safe around his father? Was that why Henry had always treated him like a pawn in some twisted game?
I couldn’t stay hidden much longer. The conversation had gone silent, and I dared a glance over my shoulder. Henry’s back was turned as he sat at his desk, phone pressed to his ear, his voice now lowered to a whisper.
I needed to leave. Fast.
But before I could make a move, I saw it, the one thing I never thought I’d see in Henry’s office.
A family portrait.
The photo was old, framed in a heavy silver border. In it, Henry stood proudly beside his wife, a woman I barely recognized, and a younger Richard, his face full of innocence and hope. But something about the picture made my stomach twist. Richard’s resemblance to Henry was striking—but there was something else too, something I hadn’t noticed before. The woman beside Henry, his wife, looked… cold. Unsmiling. I couldn’t help but feel an eerie sense of dread when I looked at her.
It was then that I realized I wasn’t just dealing with a dangerous man. I was dealing with someone who had built an entire life on lies.
Written by: Yung Tyga Stories
The footsteps were growing louder again, signaling that Henry was about to leave. My heart raced, and without a second thought, I bolted from behind the bookshelf, hurrying toward the door. I barely managed to slip out into the hallway when I heard his voice again, this time just outside the door.
“Debbie?”
My blood ran cold.
I stopped dead in my tracks, praying he hadn’t seen me. My hand hovered over the door handle, and I held my breath.
“Debbie,” he called again, his voice thick with menace.
But before I could turn the handle and flee, the phone in his office buzzed. Henry muttered something under his breath, turning away from the door.
I didn’t waste another second.
I raced down the hallway, my heart in my throat, adrenaline pumping through my veins. I couldn’t think, couldn’t process what I had just heard. Henry Montgomery was dangerous, and I was way over my head.
I slipped out the back entrance and into the night, my mind reeling. The question burned in my mind: ‘Was Richard truly Henry’s son?’
The family portrait haunted me. Was Richard just a pawn in his father’s game, or was there something more sinister at play? I didn’t know what to believe anymore. But one thing was clear: I had to protect Richard at all costs.
To Be Continued.
