Chapter 9 A Deal With Cameron
The sudden command startled Fiorella. Her hand twitched slightly.
Then Cameron strode over and took the glass from her.
“It’s alcohol. Just don’t,” he explained.
Then he poured the liquid onto the flowers below.
Fiorella hadn’t planned on drinking it. She had just been looking at it. But she didn’t argue.
A loud noise rumbled overhead, growing louder. A helicopter with the Finley Group logo hovered over the estate.
A young soldier in camouflage climbed down the ladder and called out to Cameron, “Boss, I got what you asked for.”
A case flew toward Cameron.
He caught it smoothly, flipped open the latch, and pulled out a box. Then he handed it to Fiorella.
“This is for you.”
Inside was the Ultra Pro Series Phone, the Finley Group’s newest model, set to launch later this year. Only the ads had been revealed.
Fiorella was holding the first one.
“There’s my number in there. If you need anything, call me.”
“This… is too expensive,” she stammered a little.
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She pushed the box back toward him. It wasn’t just about the price–the phone was worth thousands.
Cameron’s number worried her.
Keeping it after this was over would feel wrong. Deleting it would feel worse. Fiorella didn’t want to deal with that.
But Cameron didn’t budge.
“This stele is near where my team is based. It’s classified. Other devices might compromise security.”
“So this is an order now,” she thought, regretting taking this mission.
“Got it,” she muttered, reluctantly taking the phone. “But once this is done, I’m paying you back for it.”
Even if she had to pick up a part–time job, she would make sure of it.
“That won’t be necessary.” His voice was cool, detached.
The case hit the ground with a sharp click. Inside were stacks of hundred–dollar bills.
“Fifteen thousand upfront. More when the job is done,” Cameron offered.
Fiorella frowned. “I don’t need money. The Huerta family is rich.”
“I don’t leave debts unpaid,” he insisted.
“The phone is enough. And… I don’t want the stele wrecked. It’s culturally significant. Just take back the money.”
Fiorella stepped closer, pressed her hand against the case, and shut it
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firmly.
She opened her mouth to say something, but before she could, the young soldier called out, “Boss, the chief needs you back now!”
Orders were orders. Cameron had to rush. He held Fiorella’s gaze for a
moment.
“Let’s talk about the payment later. I got to go.”
She gave a heavy nod. Cameron grabbed the case and jumped onto the ladder.
Suddenly, he remembered something and glanced back. “Oh, congrats on reuniting with your family.”
With that, he went into the helicopter and disappeared into the night.
Inside the cabin, the young soldier holding the radio looked tense. “Boss, the chiefs need you back now.”
Cameron shrugged off his suit jacket and switched to his uniform.
“I got it. Tell the team to protect the stele. Bring it back intact.”
The soldier gaped at him for a second. “Boss, are you serious? Wouldn’t it be easier to just blow it up?”
“Intel says it’s holding valuable records,” Cameron replied.
“Well, that intel is solid?” the soldier asked with concern.
Cameron glanced–back at the distant Huerta’s mansion.
His gaze was sharp, unwavering.
He hesitated and said, “Yes.”
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