I was sitting quietly with my five-year-old son at the wedding banquet of my sister. Suddenly, he grabbed my hand and whispered, “Mom… let’s go home. Right now.” I asked, “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” He began to tremble and said, “Mom… you haven’t looked under the table… have you?” I slowly bent down to look— and froze. I gripped his hand tightly… and quietly stood up.

The wedding banquet was already in full swing when I finally managed to sit down with my five-year-old son, Ethan. My sister, Caroline, looked radiant, the hall filled with soft golden light and the low murmur of guests dining and laughing. I was enjoying a rare moment of calm—Ethan was never patient during long events—when he suddenly tightened his grip on my hand.

“Mom… let’s go home. Right now,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the clinking of glasses.

I turned to him, startled. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

His little shoulders stiffened. He swallowed hard, his eyes darting nervously. “Mom… you haven’t looked under the table… have you?”

Something in his tone—fear, raw and genuine—sent a cold ripple through me. I forced a steady breath, then leaned down slowly, pushing the white tablecloth aside.

That’s when I froze.

Pressed against the table leg, half-hidden behind the drape, was a small black device, no larger than my palm. A blinking red light pulsed steadily, and a thin wire curled beneath it like a tail. It looked unmistakably like some sort of recording device—professional, compact, deliberate. And it wasn’t ours.

I reached up immediately, gripping Ethan’s hand so tightly he looked at me in surprise. My pulse hammered in my ears. Cameras at a wedding weren’t unusual, but this—hidden, unmarked, and wired—felt entirely different. Someone had planted it. And judging by where it was placed—right at our table—someone intended to record us.

I rose slowly, keeping my expression neutral so no one would suspect anything. My mind raced. Who would do this? And why target me, of all people? I whispered to Ethan, “Stay close to me, sweetheart. Don’t let go.”

He nodded, trembling slightly.

As I straightened, I caught a glimpse of movement across the hall—someone sitting alone at the far table, watching us far too intently. A man I didn’t recognize. His gaze flicked from me to the table we’d just been sitting at.

That was the moment I knew: this wasn’t a harmless accident.

This was planned.

And we needed to find out why—fast.

I guided Ethan toward the hallway outside the banquet room, keeping my voice calm so he wouldn’t panic further. The moment the door closed behind us, muffling the music and chatter, I crouched down to meet his eyes.

“Sweetheart, how did you see that thing under the table?”

He wiped his nose nervously. “I dropped my toy car. When I went to get it, I saw the blinking red dot. Mommy… was it bad?”

I hugged him tightly. “You did the right thing telling me.”

But inside, my thoughts churned. I worked in corporate compliance, often investigating internal misconduct. Nothing glamorous, but sometimes it upset the wrong people. It wasn’t impossible that someone wanted to intimidate me. But to plant a device at my sister’s wedding? That crossed into a level of boldness—and desperation—I wasn’t used to.

I took out my phone and called Mark, a long-time friend and tech analyst who had helped me with investigations before.

“Is this urgent?” he asked after picking up.

“Yes. I’m sending you a picture. I need to know what this is.”

I returned to the banquet hall door, cracked it open just enough, and discreetly snapped a photo of the device. The man who had been watching earlier was still there—still alone, still staring. My stomach tightened.

Thirty seconds later, my phone buzzed.

“Anna… that’s a micro audio transmitter. Not consumer-grade. Not something you buy on the internet.”

My throat dried. “So someone is trying to record me.”

“Or whoever sits at that specific table,” he replied. “But the placement looks deliberate. Be careful.”

As I slipped the phone back into my purse, the banquet hall door opened unexpectedly. I flinched—only to see Caroline, my sister in her wedding gown, eyes filled with concern.

“Anna? Why are you out here? Is Ethan okay?”

I hesitated. I didn’t want to ruin her wedding. But I also couldn’t ignore the situation.

“He’s fine,” I replied. “I just needed to check something. Everything’s okay—really.”

She studied my face, sensing the lie but choosing not to press. Before she could speak again, the man from the far table stepped out into the hallway.

He paused when he saw us—his expression unreadable, his jaw clenched ever so slightly.

I instinctively pulled Ethan behind me.

The man approached slowly.

“Ms. Parker,” he said, addressing me directly.

My heart pounded.

He knew my name.

The man stopped a few steps away, maintaining a polite distance, but there was a precision—almost a calculation—in the way he held himself.

“I need a moment of your time,” he said.

Caroline looked between us, confused. “Anna… do you know him?”

I shook my head. “No.”

The man offered a faint, controlled smile. “My name is Daniel Rourke. I work in internal security at HelixCorp.”

My breath caught. HelixCorp—the very company I had recently helped investigate due to irregularities in their financial reporting. Several executives had been suspended. And now one of their security agents was here.

At my sister’s wedding.

“What do you want?” I asked, keeping my voice firm.

He glanced toward the banquet hall door before answering. “A warning. We have reason to believe your recent report may have been… intercepted by individuals who would benefit from silencing you. The device under your table wasn’t ours.”

Cold spread through my chest. “Then who planted it?”

“We’re still trying to identify that,” he said. “But if you found one, there could be more.”

Caroline’s face paled. “Is Anna in danger?”

Daniel hesitated briefly. “Potentially. Which is why I need Ms. Parker to come with me so we can secure her safety immediately.”

Ethan clung to my arm, sensing the tension. “Mom… I don’t want to go with him,” he whispered.

Neither did I. Something about Daniel’s tone—the urgency mixed with carefully curated calm—felt rehearsed. And why would a security agent from HelixCorp track me down here, at a private event?

I glanced back at the banquet hall. If there were more devices, the entire wedding might be compromised. But going with a stranger—even one with a corporate badge—felt reckless.

I straightened. “I’m not leaving with you. If you have information for me, you can give it here.”

Daniel’s expression tightened, the first crack in his composure. “Ms. Parker, this isn’t a negotiation.”

“Then we’re done talking,” I said firmly.

At that moment, my phone buzzed again. A message from Mark:

DO NOT TRUST ANYONE WHO APPROACHES YOU. I just traced the transmitter. It’s linked to an unregistered network used for corporate espionage. Be careful.

I looked up.

Daniel was no longer smiling.

The hallway suddenly felt too quiet.

And I realized something chilling—

He wasn’t here to warn me.

He was here to take me.

PART 4 

My breath caught in my chest as Daniel took one step closer, his polished shoes clicking softly against the marble floor. Ethan clung tighter to my leg, his small fingers digging into my skin. I shifted slightly, positioning myself between him and Daniel, fighting every instinct urging me to run.

“Ms. Parker,” Daniel said quietly, “cooperate, and no one gets hurt. We can resolve this without causing a scene.”

His tone was calm, almost gentle—but there was steel underneath, something rehearsed, something meant to disarm me.

“No,” I said firmly. “You need to leave.”

Daniel tilted his head, as if disappointed. “You misunderstand. You don’t have a choice.”

Before I could react, he reached into his jacket. My heart lurched—but instead of a weapon, he produced a small ID case, snapping it open just long enough for me to glimpse a badge with his name and a corporate seal.

Caroline gasped. “He’s real? Anna, maybe—”

But my phone buzzed again with a second message from Mark:

HE IS NOT WITH HELIXCORP. THEY CONFIRMED NO AGENT BY THAT NAME EXISTS. GET OUT. NOW.

My stomach dropped.

I backed up a step, keeping Ethan behind me. “I’m calling security,” I warned.

Daniel’s expression hardened instantly, the politeness evaporating. “Ms. Parker, don’t make this difficult.”

Caroline instinctively stepped between us. “Sir, this is my wedding. You need to leave—”

He ignored her entirely. His eyes—sharp, predatory—never left me.

That was when the banquet hall door opened again, and one of the servers stepped out carrying a tray. He froze mid-step at the sight of us. Daniel’s posture stiffened. He didn’t want attention—not yet.

I seized the moment.

“Caroline, take Ethan,” I said quickly.

“What? No, you need to—”

“Take him. Now.”

She nodded shakily and guided Ethan away. Daniel made no move to stop them. His focus was solely on me, as if letting them go was part of his plan.

“Where are you taking me?” I demanded.

“To a safe location,” he replied smoothly. “Somewhere private. Away from prying eyes.”

Everything in me screamed that if I left with him, I wouldn’t be coming back.

He took another step forward.

I stepped back.

“You’re making this harder than it needs to be,” he muttered.

His hand moved again—toward his jacket.

This time, I didn’t wait to see what he pulled out.

I turned and ran.

My heels clacked sharply against the marble as I sprinted down the hallway, weaving past a decorative pillar and nearly colliding with a floral display. Behind me, heavy footsteps pounded after me—closer, faster, deliberate. Daniel wasn’t even trying to hide his pursuit anymore.

“Anna!” he shouted. “Stop!”

I didn’t.

The corridor branched in two directions. I veered left, pushing through a door leading into the service area behind the banquet hall. The lighting dimmed, the smell of warm food and detergent thick in the air. Stainless steel counters glinted under fluorescent bulbs. Staff members turned in confusion as I rushed past them.

“Ma’am? Ma’am! You can’t be—”

I ignored them.

Then—SLAM.

The door burst open behind me. Daniel.

Panic surged. I grabbed the nearest object—an empty serving tray—and hurled it blindly. It clattered loudly against the floor, barely slowing him.

I darted behind a rolling cart, pushing it hard into his path. He sidestepped, fast—too fast. Whoever he was, he wasn’t just some corporate errand boy.

“Anna,” he said breathlessly, “this is pointless. You can’t outrun this.”

“Watch me!” I snapped.

At the far end of the kitchen was another door—EXIT. Red letters glowed above it like salvation. I bolted toward it, my breath burning in my throat.

I shoved the door open—

—and stumbled into the dim parking lot behind the venue, the night air cold and sharp. Cars lined the space in neat rows, their reflective surfaces catching fragments of moonlight. A few smokers loitered near the far wall, glancing over curiously but not enough to intervene.

I scanned wildly. I needed a place to hide. A place to think. A way to call for help.

But Daniel was only seconds behind.

I ducked between two parked cars, crouching low, forcing myself to breathe silently. My heartbeat thudded so loudly I was sure he’d hear it.

The door squeaked open again.

Daniel stepped out.

He moved with unsettling calm, scanning the lot with a hunter’s patience. “You’re scared,” he said into the darkness. “But you don’t need to be. Just come out, and we can fix this.”

Fix what? What did he want? Who sent him?

My phone vibrated quietly in my hand—another message from Mark:

Police on the way. Stall him. DO NOT let him take you. Devices traced to a private contractor. This is bigger than HelixCorp.

My blood ran cold.

A private contractor.

Not company spies.

Someone hired.

Someone professional.

Someone dangerous.

Daniel turned slowly—toward the row where I was hiding.

His footsteps grew closer.

And closer.

I held my breath.

Daniel stopped only a few feet from where I crouched, separated by nothing but a sedan’s rear bumper. I could see his polished shoes beneath the frame of the car, hear the steady rhythm of his breathing. Every muscle in my body tensed, ready to bolt if he leaned even an inch lower.

Then my phone buzzed again.

Too loud.

His head snapped toward the sound.

I cursed silently and lunged to the side, scrambling beneath the next car as Daniel dropped to a crouch, reaching under the vehicle to grab me.

His fingers brushed my ankle.

I kicked hard, freeing myself, scraping my knee against the concrete as I crawled out the other side. Gravel bit into my palms. My breath came in ragged gasps.

Daniel rounded the car instantly.

I ran again.

This time, toward the front entrance of the venue—where more people were, where Caroline and Ethan were, where witnesses would make it harder for him to act.

“Anna!” His voice echoed through the lot. “Don’t do this!”

But I didn’t look back.

I sprinted past a startled valet, up the steps, and into the crowded lobby. Guests turned, confused by the sight of me—hair disheveled, makeup smudged, chest heaving.

Caroline rushed toward me, Ethan in her arms. “Oh my God, Anna—what happened? Where is he?”

“Inside the building,” I panted. “Don’t let him—”

The lobby doors swung open.

Daniel entered—calm, collected, as if nothing unusual had happened. He smoothed his suit jacket, offering a neutral smile to the confused guests.

Then he said loudly, “Ms. Parker is having a panic episode. If someone could help me escort her—”

“No!” I shouted. “He’s lying! Do not let him near me!”

The room erupted into murmurs. Some believed me. Some didn’t. Security glanced between us, unsure whom to trust.

Daniel lifted his hands in mock surrender. “Alright. Let’s keep this calm.” He turned to security. “I’m with HelixCorp Internal Security. She’s involved in a sensitive investigation. I can show—”

But before he could finish, the front doors burst open again.

Two police officers stormed inside.

“Sir!” one of them barked. “Step away from the woman!”

Daniel didn’t move.

Didn’t flinch.

Didn’t even blink.

And that terrified me more than anything he’d done so far.

Because the look he gave the officers wasn’t fear.

It was calculation.

As if he was already planning his next move.

As if this—being caught, being confronted—meant nothing.

As if the real danger hadn’t even started yet.