Chapter 3 - The Trap Is Set And The Net TightensBy Thursday evening, the trap was fully constructed, baited, and ready to snap shut.
Sebastian and I spent Wednesday night locked in his high-security private study, going over every single financial record, encrypted communication, and personnel file associated with Camille Laurent. The discovery had shaken Sebastian to his absolute core. Not only had his trust been horribly betrayed, but his pride as the most feared underworld boss in the Midwest had taken a fatal blow. He had been played like a fool by an operative working for his worst enemy, Viktor Vane.
"She thinks the transfer is scheduled for Friday at 10:00 AM," Sebastian said, pacing across the Persian rug in his study, a glass of amber bourbon untouched in his hand. "Our cyber team has mirrored her destination account. The moment she hits 'approve' on the 1.2 million dollar wire from the foundation portal, the funds will be intercepted, frozen in real-time, and rerouted directly into our secure federal holding account."
"And the IP trace?" I asked, sitting calmly in a leather armchair across from him.
"Complete and absolute," Sebastian replied, his jaw clenched so tightly a muscle twitched in his cheek. "It will trace the digital authorization signature back to her personal encrypted laptop, her private residence, and her direct communications with Viktor Vane's financial attaché. By Friday afternoon, the federal indictments won't have your name on them, Katie. They will have hers."
I nodded slowly, adjusting the cuffs of my silk blouse. "Good. Because I want her to feel every single ounce of the terror she tried to inflict on me."
Sebastian stopped pacing. He walked over slowly and knelt down on one knee in front of my chair, looking up at me with eyes filled with a desperate, agonizing plea for forgiveness that I knew I could never fully grant.
"Katie," he murmured, reaching out hesitantly before stopping himself, remembering my warning not to touch him. "When I kissed her... I want you to know, it meant nothing. It was a momentary weakness, a distraction in the middle of a war I was trying to keep you shielded from. I never stopped loving you. Not for a single second."
I looked down at the man who ruled half of Chicago—the man who men twice his age feared to cross—reduced to kneeling before his wife, begging for a shred of grace.
"You didn't just break our vows, Sebastian," I said quietly, my voice steady and cold. "You opened the door for an enemy to destroy our family. A kiss is a physical act. But letting a spy into your bed, your office, and your trust? That's a structural failure. And in your world, structural failures destroy empires."
He closed his eyes, a single tear escaping down his cheek. "I know. I will spend the rest of my life earning back the right to stand beside you. But first... we finish this."
"Yes," I stood up, smoothing my skirt. "We finish this."
On Friday morning at 9:45 AM, I walked back into the corporate headquarters of Whitmore Holdings. This time, I didn't come as a neglected wife bringing homemade lunch in a wicker basket. I came as the rightful co-owner of the foundation, flanked by two private security operatives and my brother Dominic, who had officially joined the legal strike team alongside Sebastian's corporate counsel.
We bypassed the front desk and walked straight up to the executive suite.
Camille Laurent was sitting at her desk just outside Sebastian's private office. She looked remarkably calm, dressed in a sharp designer skirt suit, her blonde hair perfectly styled. When she saw me walking down the corridor followed by security and attorneys, her eyes widened in momentary surprise, but she quickly recovered, masking her expression with a cool, professional smile.
"Mrs. Whitmore," Camille greeted smoothly, standing up and smoothing her jacket. "Mr. Whitmore is currently in a closed-door meeting with international investors. You can't just—"
"Save it, Camille," I interrupted, walking right up to her desk and stopping just an inch away.
She blinked, her smile faltering slightly. "I beg your pardon?"
Before she could say another word, the heavy double doors of Sebastian's office swung open wide.
Sebastian stood in the doorway. He didn't look angry; he looked terrifyingly calm, radiating an icy, lethal authority that made the entire floor go dead silent. Every employee at their cubicles froze, holding their breath.
"Come inside, Miss Laurent," Sebastian commanded, his voice echoing across the open office space. "We have a wire transfer to review."
Camille's face turned several shades paler. For a split second, panic flickered in her eyes, but she forced a nervous laugh. "Mr. Whitmore, I have several reports to finish before noon—"
"Now, Camille," Sebastian repeated, stepping aside to reveal the open doorway.
May you like
With trembling fingers, Camille picked up her tablet and walked past me into the sprawling executive office. I followed right behind her, with Dominic and the security team closing the doors firmly behind us.
The trap was about to spring.
