Chapter 9 - The Manhattan Trap
The gala was held in a private, heavily guarded penthouse overlooking Central Park. Through a contact in the FBI that Toby had cultivated over the years, we managed to secure a fake catering contract.
I wore a crisp white server's uniform, my hair pulled back tightly. Beneath the apron, a cold ceramic knife was pressed against my thigh. David and Toby were disguised as security personnel in the basement, monitoring the camera feeds we had hacked.
The penthouse was dripping with opulence. Billionaires, judges, and politicians mingled, drinking champagne while trading lives like stocks.
I walked through the crowd with a tray of hors d'oeuvres, my eyes scanning for Senator Sterling. I found him near the grand piano, laughing with a group of foreign investors.
“Elena, do you copy?” Toby’s voice crackled in my earpiece.
“I have eyes on Sterling,” I whispered into my lapel mic.
“The upload of the ledger to the major news networks is at ninety percent. But Sterling’s security is sweeping the building. You have three minutes to get out before they lock down the elevators.”
I turned toward the exit, but a hand grabbed my arm.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
I looked up. It was my mother. Eleanor.
She had been released on bail. She wore a stunning emerald gown, but her eyes were lethal.
“You always were the clumsy one, Elena,” she sneered, pulling me toward a private study adjacent to the ballroom. Two Vanguard security guards fell into step behind us.
“Elena? Talk to me!” David yelled through the earpiece.
“Mom,” I said, my voice shaking as she locked the study door behind us. “You’re surrounded. The police are coming.”
May you like
Eleanor laughed. “The police work for us. You think you can take down a machine this big? Sterling is untouchable. And once I hand you over to him, he’ll forgive my little lapse in security with Leo.”
She nodded to the guards. “Kill her. Quietly.”
