Ron Donaldo: Rise Of The Apex Don

Chapter 9: The Betrayal Revealed

Five years ago, the metal handcuffs were freezing on Ron’s wrists.

He stood in the cold rain. Red and blue police lights flashed across his face. He looked at his large, beautiful house. Theresa stood on the front porch. She was crying loudly for the police to see. But when she looked at Ron, her eyes were completely dry. They were cold and empty.

"I found the papers," Theresa cried to the police officers. "He stole the money from his own company! He hid it!"

Ron did not understand it then. He loved her. He had given her everything. Why did she lie?

It took him two years in the dark prison to learn the truth. Theresa was greedy, but she was also a coward. A man called "The Director" had called her that night. “Frame him, give me the company, or I will kill you both,” the voice had said.

Theresa chose to save herself. She took the money and threw Ron to the wolves. That betrayal burned a deep, black hole in Ron's soul. It turned the soft engineer into a weapon of steel.

Now, in the present day, the rain was still falling on the city of Oakhaven.

Ron stood outside a massive, windowless building. It was the Titan Data Center. Inside this ugly concrete box lived all the digital secrets of the city.

Isabella Voretti stood next to him in the shadows. She wore tight black clothes and held a small, glowing tablet. She was the boss of the city’s biggest crime family, but tonight, she looked nervous. They were uneasy allies. They did not trust each other, but they needed each other.

"Are you sure about this, Ron?" Isabella whispered. She looked up at the high walls. "If we get caught, we go to federal prison. It is over."

"I am always sure," Ron said.

He walked to the heavy steel door at the back of the building. He pulled a tiny wire tool from his pocket. His hands moved with lightning speed. He picked the high-tech electronic lock in five seconds.

Click.

The heavy door opened. Ron and Isabella stepped inside.

The air in the room was freezing cold. The room was huge, filled with tall black rows of computer servers. Blue and green lights blinked rapidly in the dark. The machines hummed a low, loud song. It felt like walking inside the brain of a giant robot.

"Find terminal four," Ron ordered softly.

Isabella walked quickly down the narrow row of servers. "Here," she pointed.

Ron connected his small, black burner phone to the big machine. His fingers danced across the keyboard. He was hunting a ghost. He wanted to know who really funded Theresa’s takeover five years ago. He wanted the real name of "The Director."

Lines of complex code flew across Isabella’s tablet. She watched the screen closely. Suddenly, her dark eyes went wide with shock.

"Ron," she breathed. "Look at this."

Ron leaned over her shoulder. The screen showed secret bank records from five years ago. Millions of dollars were moving in the dark, passing through fake companies.

"It was not just Theresa," Ron whispered. His voice was like grinding rocks.

Isabella pointed a shaking finger at the names glowing on the screen. "Look who took the money. Mayor Higgins. Police Chief Vance. Judge Carter."

They all took the dirty money. They all helped to frame Ron.

Ron felt a cold, hard anger spread in his chest. His struggle was not just against a greedy ex-wife and Marcus Thorne. His fight was against the whole city. The law itself was rotten to the core. The people who were supposed to protect the city were the ones destroying it.

"They built a golden empire on my ruined life," Ron said softly. His eyes narrowed. "I will tear it down to the dirt."

"We have the proof," Isabella said. She held the tablet tight against her chest. "We can ruin them all tomorrow morning. Let's go before security comes."

She turned around to run toward the door.

But the blue lights on the servers suddenly stopped blinking.

Instantly, every light in the huge room turned a harsh, angry red.

CLANG.

The heavy steel door at the end of the room slammed shut. A loud electronic lock clicked into place with a sound like a gunshot.

Isabella ran to the door. She pushed it with her shoulder. She pulled the thick metal handle. It did not move an inch.

"Ron! It is locked!" she yelled. Pure panic filled her voice.

Ron did not run. He slowly turned around. He looked at the computer servers.

Every single screen in the room flashed white. Then, a face appeared on all of them.

It was Theresa.

She was sitting in her bright, expensive office. She was wearing a beautiful diamond necklace. She was smiling, but it was a cruel, wicked smile.

"Hello, Ron," her voice echoed loudly from the speakers hidden in the ceiling. "Did you really think you could sneak into my servers? I own this data center. I have been watching you on the cameras since you walked in."

Ron stood tall. He did not look afraid. He looked straight into the camera above the screen.

"Theresa," Ron said calmly. "You look tired. And scared."

Her smile cracked for a second. Her eyes flashed with anger. Then she smiled again. "I am not scared, Ron. You are a rat in a cage. You found the truth. Good for you. But you will never tell anyone."

A loud hissing sound started in the dark corners of the room.

Hsssss.

Thick, yellow gas began to pour from the ceiling vents. It fell like a toxic waterfall. It smelled like bad eggs and burning plastic.

"What is that?" Isabella coughed, covering her mouth and nose with her hand.

"Chlorine gas," Ron said. His face was perfectly calm, like stone. "It burns the lungs. It melts the skin."

"I told you to leave the city, Ron," Theresa said from the screens. Her voice was cold and dead. "You should have taken the money. You should have walked away and stayed a nobody. Now, you burn."

The screens went black.

The hiss of the gas grew louder. The deadly yellow cloud dropped closer to the floor, quickly filling the freezing room.

Isabella pulled her gun from her jacket, but there was nothing to shoot. She looked at Ron with wide, terrified eyes. "We are going to die in here!" she choked, coughing violently.

The yellow gas touched Ron’s hands. It stung like a thousand tiny needles. His breath grew short.

But the Apex did not panic. The Apex did not die in a cage.

Ron looked at the thick steel door. Then he looked at the heavy power cables running out of the server towers.

He closed his eyes, holding his breath, and smiled in the dark.