Chapter 7 - The Trap in the Shadows
The night of the European Investor Gala was a triumph of design and elegance. The Winterline’s grand courtyard had been enclosed in a heated, transparent glass dome, allowing two hundred of the world’s most powerful investors to dine under the stars while rain drummed softly overhead.
I stood near the head table, wearing an emerald green backless gown, holding a glass of champagne as Victoria Sterling gave a speech praising the incredible execution of Blake International.
Alexander walked up beside me, handing me a small, folded piece of paper.
“What’s this?” I asked quietly.
“A security update from my chief of operations,” Alexander whispered, his voice low and dangerous. “Two unauthorized security keycards were swiped at the basement service entrance four minutes ago. Stairwell C.”
My hand tightened around the stem of my champagne glass. Stairwell C. They just couldn't help themselves.
“Did they think we wouldn't change the override codes?” I asked, a cold calm settling over me.
“We didn't change that specific door’s code,” Alexander smiled wickedly. “I left it active on purpose. I knew if they got desperate enough, they’d use the only route they knew.”
“Where are they now?”
“They’ve just walked right into the sub-basement holding area,” Alexander said, gesturing subtly toward two plainclothes security officers standing near the exit doors. “They think they’re heading to the VIP elevator. In reality, they’ve walked into a dead-end corridor with automated lockdown doors.”
I looked at Victoria, who was just wrapping up her speech to thunderous applause.
“Excuse me for a moment, Alexander,” I said, setting my glass down on a silver tray. “I want to deliver the final verdict in person.”
“I’m coming with you,” he said immediately, offering his arm.
We walked calmly through the back doors of the grand hall, leaving the glittering lights and applause behind, descending into the quiet, concrete depths of the Winterline’s lower levels.
Down in sub-basement three, the air was cold and smelled of damp concrete and industrial air filters.
Tyler and Melanie were standing in front of a heavy steel security door, frantically punching numbers into a digital keypad. The red light above the door blinked persistently, refusing to turn green.
“It’s not working!” Melanie panicked, slamming her fist against the steel. “You said the code was 4492!”
“It was the code!” Tyler yelled, sweating through his suit. “Try it again!”
CLICK.
The heavy double doors behind them swung shut automatically, the heavy magnetic locks engaging with a loud, echoey THUD.
Tyler spun around, his face pale with terror.
From the observation platform above the corridor, floorlights suddenly flickered on, blinding them in a harsh yellow glow.
I walked up to the glass railing, looking down at them alongside Alexander and two uniform officers from the NYPD’s financial crimes division.
“Looking for the elevator, Tyler?” I called down, my voice reverberating off the concrete walls.
Melanie screamed, covering her face. Tyler stumbled back against the locked steel door, looking up at me like a trapped animal.
“Olivia!” Tyler shouted, his voice cracking with hysteria. “Let us out! You framed us!”
“You broke a court-issued restraining order, committed commercial trespass, and broke into a private facility while under federal investigation,” Detective Miller said, standing beside me with a manila folder in hand. “Mr. Harris, Miss Cole, you are under arrest.”
“She lied to you!” Tyler shrieked, pointing a shaking finger up at me. “She’s a monster! She ruined my life!”
“You ruined your own life the second you decided to steal from the person who made you,” I said, looking down at him with pure pity. “You were nothing without me, Tyler. And now, you’re less than nothing.”
The heavy side doors opened, and four uniformed police officers stepped in, forcing Tyler and Melanie to the ground. The sound of metal handcuffs clicking echoing up to the ceiling was the sweetest music I had ever heard.
As they dragged Melanie away, sobbing uncontrollably, she looked up at me one last time.
May you like
“Olivia, please!” she wailed. “We were best friends!”
“Best friends don't steal,” I replied coldly. “Enjoy the consequences.”
