Rated M. Just in case.

CHAPTER ONE: Traitor

One night when the rain was pouring heavily on earth, Peter Sanders found himself on a pool of mud in the middle of nowhere, lying on his stomach, his eyes blindfolded, and both his hands and feet tied with a rope. He frantically twisted and turned trying to loosen the rope or at least the blindfold around his head but to no avail. He screamed as loud as he could to get anybody's attention for help, but all the response he received was a fit of laughter.

"You can scream as loud as you can but nobody will hear you," he heard a male voice from someone who must be standing just in front of him.

Peter frenziedly tilted his head up but the blindfold still blocked his view. "Who the fuck are you? You, coward son of a bitch!"

Just after he finished that last sentence, he was stomped on his face making him wince in pain.

"Don't you dare call us 'coward'!" the stranger shouted at the man on the ground followed by a hard kick on his face once again.

"Coward!"

Peter felt a pair of hands grabbed him by the collar pulling him up on his feet. He braced himself for a punch, but instead, the stranger removed the blindfold revealing the face of his predator - a tall young man known to be Stan Mitchell.

"You're dead," Stan quietly hissed at his prey.

Peter looked into those pair of rage-filled eyes and felt his blood stopped from circulating. He looked over his shoulder and saw a woman leaning her back on a black Honda Accord bearing no plate number, her features dulled by the darkness of the night and the pouring rain, but the knife she was playing with in her hands caught Peter's full attention.

"W-What are you going to do with me?" he questioned.

Stan flashed a sinister smirk then punched Peter hard on the stomach causing the older guy to fall back on the ground. "I told you you're dead."

"Why are you doing this to me?" Peter whimpered.

"Ah, I can smell your fear."

"S-Stop this already!"

"Did you stop when Erica Porter begged you not to rape her?" Stan yelled at him followed by another stomp on his face.

"The hell you care about what I did to that slut!"

"The Society cares," the tall young man firmly replies. "And we convict you to death."

Peter laughed hysterically, "The Society?"

"Beca, finish him off." The younger man turned around to his sister, ignoring the question, and started to head back to the car. "I don't want this maniac's blood to stain my hands."

Beca Mitchell sighed and slowly walked towards Peter, her favorite pocket knife clenched in her hand.

"W-What are you going to do?" Peter snaked back in fear. "Stop there, you, bitch!"

She tilted her head to the side mockingly and looked straight into his eyes. In her most emotionless voice, she said, "I'll see you in hell, Peter."

With that, she slit his throat with the knife and stabbed him on his chest multiple times just like the way Peter Sanders killed Erica Porter.

Beca Mitchell trailed quietly behind her older brother as they fought their way through the huge crowd in Pandemonium. The club was jam-packed as usual meaning business was doing well. They made their way towards the 'No Unauthorized Person Allowed' door and were immediately met by a short black woman with red-dyed bangs.

"Stan," she said as she stood right in front of the door.

"Cynthia Rose," the young man acknowledged.

The woman scoffed and corrected him, "C.R."

"C.R." he repeated.

She turned to Beca and nodded her head towards the typically silent woman, "You good, Beca?"

Beca forced a smile but her face suddenly went back to a blank canvass after a good two seconds.

C.R. shook her head in defeat at trying to make the younger woman convey such an expression that would be beyond a straight face. Subsequently, she pushed the door open and let the siblings in.

"It's never too late to show some emotions, Beca."

The black woman made another attempt to convince her but the brunette only brushed her off as she followed her brother down to a secret passageway. They entered an elevator. Stan pushed the button labeled with an outline of a phoenix whose wings spread wide open towards an upward direction forming what seemed to be a blazing fire and an extended dagger-like feather at the bottom – the emblem of The Secret Society. And then the elevator started to lower them down. The older Mitchell carelessly dropped his backpack and took his soaking wet shirt off putting his gorgeous pack of abs on display.

"I need a shower," he announced while Beca simply maintained a straight face as a reaction to her brother's sudden course of action.

"Have you not learned the effect of that abs on Fat Amy?" she quietly asked.

He wore a naughty grin on his face. "I know the effect of this abs on girls, alright?"

Beca slowly shook her head in annoyance and eagerly exited the elevator, muttering, "Don't count me in."

Stan chuckled at his sister's comment and quickly picked the backpack up then followed her to the secret headquarters where they were immediately welcomed back by Jesse and Fat Amy who were already biting her lower lip as she stared dumbfounded on Stan's half-naked body.

"How's your mission?" Jesse instantly asked.

Stan handed the backpack over.

"Half a million bucks neatly stolen from the Walters Bank. And, uh, we ran into some Syndics at noon. They're all dead."

"And Sanders?"

Stan turned his head towards Beca who quietly reported, "Dead."

"I'm dead," the blonde girl with that thick Australian accent mumbled to herself as she restrained herself from touching Stan's photoshop-perfect abs causing the boys to chuckle while their brunette teammate shook her head in annoyance.

Suddenly, the door to the Green Room flung open and all eyes were directed to it. Two bald men, one in a red shirt while the other in a blue shirt, both with huge and bulky muscles threw out a clearly beaten Benji. He held his stomach as he lied helplessly on the ground. Jesse instinctively moved to help his friend but was immediately restrained by Stan. Well, certainly, it would have been a very bad idea.

"I don't need a fucking traitor in this group." Phil Mitchell walked out of the room and stood right in between the two bald men. He secured a cigarette in between his mouth and the one wearing a red shirt quickly lit up the end of it. The current Head of The Society blew some smoke out of his mouth as he turned to look at everyone present inside the headquarters, then pointed at Benji who was already coughing out some blood. "This, right here, is a very good example of a fucking traitor."

Stan whispered to himself, "What the hell did he do?"

"I'm sensing it's Beale," Fat Amy quietly shared her hypothesis.

"Who are we?" Phil shouted at no one in particular.

Everyone quickly replied in chorus, "The Secret Society."

"And what is the code of The Secret Society?"

"Fidelity to The Society."

Phil glared down at the man fighting for his life on the floor. "Fidelity... to... The... Society."

"I-I'm sorry," the young man weakly cried.

The oldest Mitchell chuckled at him. "Apology doesn't bring back the dead, Benji. You know that."

"They'll kill him," Fat Amy remorsefully muttered in realization.

"Where's Jesse?" Phil scanned the room restlessly until his eyes fell upon the young man's face. "Come here, boy."

Jesse, startled by the sudden command and with all the attention upon him, slowly walked towards the group leader, his eyes could barely glance on his friend crippled down on the floor. Phil pulled out a gun, installed a silencer at the end of it, and handed it over to the brunet.

"Kill him," he bluntly ordered.

Stan was the only one who bravely spoke his mind, "Jesse doesn't kill. He works at the Intelligence department, dad."

But the group leader threw a death glare at his son because one, he called him 'dad' and two, he was rudely intervening. "I don't remember asking your opinion, Stan."

"Sorry," Stan mumbled and recoiled in his position.

"Now kill him, Swanson."

Jesse Swanson swallowed hard the lump in his throat and then took a deep breath before turning around to face his friend. He shakily raised his hands up and directed the end of the gun towards Benji's chest. Tears started falling from his eyes and his face tensed up. A smile bravely crept on Benji's lips in acceptance as he looked into his friend's eyes for the last time in his life.

"Fidelity to The Society," Jesse whispered to no one in particular then hurriedly pulled the trigger before he could even change his mind. The bullet quietly penetrated the pale skin and plunged into Benji's heart. Then, he was dead in an instant. He was Jesse's first kill ever. In his entire life, he killed no one but his friend. In fact, Benji was his best friend.

Phil clapped his hands while he chuckled in amusement. "Very good, Jesse. And keep the gun. You might need it again in the future."

Jesse silently dragged himself back to his remaining friends, holding a loose grip on the gun in his hand, while the two bald men carelessly pulled Benji's lifeless body for disposal as the others went back to their own little worlds.

"Jesse," Fat Amy rested a hand on his shoulder.

"I killed him," he responded, just staring at the gun resting on his palm, his tears falling like waterfall on the surface. "I killed Benji. I killed my best friend."

Beca did not bother to give him a look as she spoke, "You did what you had to do."

Her older brother threw a death glare at her. She's supposed to say something that would make the guy feel better, but instead, she acted too indifferent towards the entire situation. That's because Beca knew better. In reality, she knew that nothing would make him feel better. He just killed the man who happened to be his best friend. History will remember him that way. Besides, 'Apology doesn't bring back the dead.' Fact. So all that's left to do was to simply move on with life. Simple philosophy.

"Beca."

She turned towards her father who summoned her to the Green Room out of the blue for whatever reason.

Aubrey Posen sat nervously on the couch as she patiently watched Chloe restlessly paced back and forth. They were watching the news report about the redhead's father's unexpected escape from his kidnappers.

"Business tycoon, President and C.E.O. of Phoenix Corporation, Clarence Beale, had surprisingly escaped from his kidnappers this evening. After a week of being held capture allegedly in exchange of a $500,000,000-ransom money by a still unidentified criminal group, Beale is now safely in the hands of the proper authorities. But even after the life-threatening experience, the wealthy businessman, in an ambush interview, insisted that his own security group would already keep him and his daughter, Chloe Beale, in a tighter security this time-"

Chloe suddenly switched off the television with the remote. "I can't take this anymore," she breathed out.

"Relax," Aubrey rushed to the side of her best friend and breathed along with her for comfort. "Just relax, Chloe. Breathe, breathe."

"I want to see him now!" Chloe exclaimed in frustration.

"Your father will be here in no time," the blonde assured her as she gently rubbed her best friend's back.

As if on cue, the door opened and a tall man with the same shade of red hair entered the room accompanied by not less than seven men in black suits. "Chloe?"

"Daddy!" Chloe ran to embrace her long lost father. "Are you okay? What did they do to you? What did they want?"

"I'm fine now," Clarence smiled down at his daughter. "Are you okay?"

"I was so worried!" she hit her father on the chest. "You said you were going on a business trip, dad! I turned the TV on that same night and suddenly you were kidnapped! And where did that ransom thing came from anyway? I didn't receive any call or whatsoever from the kidnappers."

"Forget about it," he said. "I'm back, so stop worrying now. Leave the worries up to me, honey, okay?"

"Does it mean this isn't over yet?"

She waited for an answer but her father remained silent.

"Are they still after you? 'Cause if that's a yes, then I have everything to worry about, dad."

Clarence sighed and rested his hands on his daughter's shoulders as he looked straight into those bright blue eyes. "Listen to me, Chloe."

The redhead anxiously waited for her father's news that even that little interval felt like years for her.

"I may have done something really stupid in the past, but that's my problem, okay? It's not yours to worry about, honey. It was my fault that I got captured, but this time, Luke and his men will keep us both safe."

But her father's words did not make her feel calm or secured at all. In all honesty, this revelation only increased the terror inside her.

"What did you do?" her eyes plead for answers from her father.

Clarence shook his head in disapproval then reached for his daughter's face and said, "I love you, my sweetheart. All I really need is for you to be safe. That's all I really want, Chloe."

Somehow, that did the trick. Chloe rationalized that if both of them stayed all worried about the whole damn situation, it would probably be a bad idea. She thought she had to simply trust her father on this one. This time, they would all be more careful. They would build more protective walls to let nobody come near them to harm. She realized that as long as she had her father safe and sound with her, she really had nothing to worry about. So what she did was to nod her head in agreement and gave her father another one long embrace.

"So aren't you going to ask me about what happened out there?" Phil sat on his table and smoked on the cigarette on his mouth.

"It's not my business," Beca simply replied.

Her father chuckled. "That's what I like about you, Beca. You're not as nosy as your brother."

"Stan cares too much."

"And you?"

She shrugged, "I only care about The Society."

"Excellent." Phil nodded his head, amazed at how well he had groomed his daughter for such way of life.

"So why am I here?" she questioned. Feeling that her time was starting to get wasted, she pulled out a cigarette for herself as well and make the most out of this unexpected conversation.

Phil picked up three piece of darts from his table and threw it on the cork board at the wall. In a matter of a second, one landed on a picture of Clarence Beale right on his chest.

"Have you ever met Clarence Beale?" he turned to his daughter.

Beca shook her head and breathe some smoke out of her mouth.

"Perfect." Phil grinned. "That way he has no idea that he's already looking into the eyes of an enemy."

"So when do I kill him?"

"No, Beca. Don't be so eager. You are not to kill him… at least not yet." He paused to smoke again and then threw another piece of those small missiles towards the picture. "What I want you and your team to worry about is the stolen treasure."

Beca managed to keep her usual straight face but the curiosity seriously burned her insides.

"There is a treasure that used to belong to The Secret Society, a wealth more than you could ever imagine. Because I thought he was a friend, I let him keep it, but now he thinks he owns it, stole it away, and hid it somewhere. Certainly, the Council members are not amused by his choice of action."

Phil pushed a button on a nearby remote control, switching on the television screen for Beca to see a recorded video of Clarence Beale being escorted into a black limousine.

"You see, we managed to capture him with the plan of extracting the necessary information as to where he buried the treasure. We almost got him, Beca… until that fucked up Benji helped him escape."

Of course, it was only rational that Benji would help his former master. Clarence Beale used to be a member of the Council and Benji worked directly under him. Beale used to hold such kind of a great power within this secret organization but not until he decided to steal the treasure. That made him a traitor, and Benji's ultimate loyalty to his master made him a traitor too. Simple logic: it's because the rule says 'Fidelity to The Society', not'to your master'.

"You want me to retrieve the stolen treasure," Beca concluded then smoked some more.

A sinister smile appeared on her father's lips. "Yes, please. And do everything you can, Beca."

"What about Beale?"

"You have a special mission to worry about already. Let the rest of us take care of him afterwards."

That only meant that it's not her business anymore, and Beca Mitchell did not like the idea of worrying over businesses that are not her business to mind about. So she simply nodded her head in agreement. That's how The Secret Society worked for her anyway.

The next day, after doing some charity work, Chloe along with Aubrey dropped by at her father's office at the Phoenix Tower. They were automatically met by her father's secretary, Gail, and were led right into his office. The man in an elegant coat and tie immediately acknowledged the arrival of his daughter and her blonde companion.

"Dad, you asked for me?" she planted a quick kiss on his father's cheek before staring up at him.

Clarence nodded his head, "Yes. I needed to talk to you about something."

"What about?"

"From now on, I have to know all of your whereabouts, Chloe."

For a moment, the redhead was taken aback by the sudden demand from her father.

"I believe you are always well-informed about the events and appointments that I have to attend to, dad."

"No. Not just charity events or photo shoots or interviews or public appearances or whatever. I meant everything, honey. I want to be informed about everything. I want to be informed when you leave the house, where you are off to, who you are with, what time do you leave the venue, and even when you are inside the house."

"But-"

Clarence hurriedly cut her off. "And no more sneaking out, please? I want to be informed as well when you go out with your friends or with… boys. They better behave, by the way."

Chloe rolled her eyes and folded her arms over her chest as a sign of protest.

"If you don't report to me, then I'll call Aubrey." The old man looked over her shoulder to throw a charming wink at his daughter's best friend. "Can I count on you, Aubrey?"

Aubrey had no other choice but to nod her head as an approval to the coerced agreement so much for Chloe's displeasure.

"And one more thing," her father raised a finger. "I'm hiring a bodyguard just for you."

"What?"

Chloe's eyes widened in surprise while her best friend instantly dropped her jaw on the floor.

"I'm hiring a bodyguard for you," the old man simply repeated as he turned around to take his seat. "Luke will stay with me all the time so I need to hire 'another Luke' to watch over you 24/7."

Aubrey gasped, "24/7?"

"Yes," he casually nodded his head. "He will be directly accountable to me so don't even think about bribing him, Chloe."

The redhead smashed her hands on the table in a formal protest. "Isn't it enough that I have to tell you about all of my whereabouts, dad?"

"I'm just being careful here, honey."

"No! You are being undemocratic."

"Oh so now it's undemocratic when a father wants to keep his daughter safe from any harm?"

"That's not the point."

"That's the only point here, Chloe."

"I'm a 23-year-old grown woman but you're treating me like a child, dad, by hiring somebody to watch over me 24/7."

"I'm sorry that you're just too important to me that I want to keep you safe."

"As long as you are safe then I feel safe, dad. I don't need a dog trailing behind me 24/7."

"Sir, your meeting will start in 5 minutes."

Gail's voice echoed through the speaker. Chloe instantly threw a 'we are not yet done here' look at her father, but Clarence Beale pushed on the button and instructed his secretary to come fetch his stuff for the meeting immediately.

"I'm still hiring you your own bodyguard, Chloe. End of discussion."

Chloe gasped in frustration but her father already rose from his seat in time for Gail's arrival. Clarence gave the redhead a quick fatherly kiss on her head and made his way out of the room leaving her behind with Aubrey who only had a sorry look for her best friend.

So what do you think? :)