Chapter 7 - The Trap is SetDetective Miller initially refused, calling the idea completely insane and a violation of every federal protocol. But as the hours ticked by and our financial analysts flagged that Ethan’s offshore transfers were nearing completion, she realized it was our only clean shot.
The plan was highly orchestrated. Dr. Marcus Vance, acting under police supervision, contacted Ethan via an encrypted satellite phone line. He claimed that I had escaped the safehouse with Ryan and was heading to a specific bank in downtown Manhattan to empty our joint safety deposit box—a box that contained the original physical hard drives of Biotech Horizons' stolen research data, which Ethan desperately needed to sell to foreign buyers.
It was a lie, of course. The data wasn't there, and Ryan was safe in the cabin under heavy guard. But Ethan’s greed and desperation overrode his caution.
The location chosen for the confrontation was an old, abandoned bank vault facility in the Financial District that was currently undergoing renovations—dark, cavernous, and completely wired with hidden FBI surveillance teams.
I stood in the center of the dusty, marble-clad vault room, wearing a wire beneath a heavy coat. My hands were freezing, not just from the lack of heating in the building, but from the sheer terror of what I was about to do. But every time my heart faltered, I pictured Ryan’s pale face in the hospital, and my resolve turned to steel.
At exactly 2:00 PM, the heavy iron doors at the entrance creaked open.
The silhouette that stepped into the dim light wasn't Ethan. It was Vanessa. She wore a flawless trench coat, her dark hair pulled back, holding a silenced pistol in her right hand.
"Did you really think Ethan would risk coming here himself?" she scoffed, her voice echoing off the high stone walls. "He’s smarter than that, Elena. He sent me to clean up his mess once and for all."
"Where is he, Vanessa?" I demanded, keeping my voice steady, making sure the wire captured every word. "Why did he do this? We had a life. We had a son."
"A life?" Vanessa laughed, a cold, mocking sound. "He hated every second of it. He married you because your father sat on the board of directors that approved his initial research grants. You were a stepping stone. A boring, suburban non-entity. And the boy? Just an annoying anchor keeping him tied to a life he despised."
Behind the pillars, I knew the tactical team was waiting for the signal. But I needed her to explicitly admit to the poisoning on tape to ensure no high-priced corporate lawyers could ever get them off on a technicality.
"The chicken," I said, stepping closer to her, staring down the barrel of the gun. "He poisoned us. You both did."
"Of course we did," she said flippantly, raising the weapon to aim directly at my chest. "And now, you're going to die in a tragic construction accident in an abandoned building. Hand over the safety deposit key, Elena."
"I don't think so," I replied.
May you like
"Then goodbye."
She pulled the trigger.
