Chapter 4 - The Trapper's Net
By Saturday evening, the storm over Chicago had returned, bringing heavy gale-force winds that whipped the waters of Lake Michigan into white-capped fury.
Inside the private study of the Basil estate, the mahogany fire crackled softly, casting golden light across map grids, security schematics, and financial ledgers spread out over the massive desk.
For six hours, Seth and Fiona had worked side-by-side.
Seth sat in his leather chair, a tactical map of the city before him, while Fiona sat beside him, cross-referencing names, phone logs, and bank routing numbers on two high-speed laptops. Vane stood near the door, taking rapid orders and relaying encrypted messages to Seth’s handful of fiercely loyal captains.
"Victor has thirty men positioned in the woods surrounding the cemetery," Vane reported, holding a small satellite radio. "Angelo is currently at the Drake Hotel, hosting a private dinner with three representatives from the Moretti syndicate in New York. They think you're completely oblivious, Boss."
Seth leaned over the desk, his platinum hair falling slightly over his forehead. "They think I'm visiting the grave tomorrow at ten A.M. with only four bodyguards."
"That was the plan Helen gave them," Fiona noted, her fingers clicking across her keyboard. "Victor’s tactical team plans to disable your convoy in the narrow access road outside the cemetery gates using an IED disguised as a municipal road barrier. Once your vehicle is stopped, they will ambush from the tree line."
Seth looked at Fiona, an eyebrow raised in grim appreciation. "How do you know about the IED?"
"Because Victor’s explosive specialist, a former demolition worker named Frank Rossi, purchased three commercial detonators from a quarry in Indiana on Thursday," Fiona replied without missing a beat, turning a screen toward him. "He used a credit card registered to one of Victor’s front companies. As I said... remarkably predictable."
Seth let out a short, dark laugh—a sound so rare and genuine that Vane actually blinked in surprise from the doorway.
"You're terrifying, Fiona," Seth murmured, reaching over to squeeze her hand resting on the desk.
"I am thorough," Fiona corrected smoothly. "Now, if we want to catch both Victor and Angelo simultaneously without triggering a city-wide gang war that brings the federal authorities down on your head, we cannot simply attack them tomorrow."
"What do you propose?" Seth asked, leaning close to her, his grey eyes locked onto hers with absolute trust.
Fiona pulled a fresh piece of paper toward her and began sketching a clean, precise flowchart.
"We let Victor think his ambush is succeeding," Fiona explained, her voice cool and calculating. "You will not be in the lead car tomorrow morning. We will use an armored decoy vehicle driven by automated remote navigation—technology my father’s freight company developed five years ago for high-value cargo transport."
Seth’s eyes lit up. "The vehicle triggers the IED, Victor’s men move in to confirm my death..."
"And while they are standing in the open road waiting for the smoke to clear," Fiona continued, drawing a bold circle around the cemetery entrance, "your heavy tactical team, led by Vane, springs from the rear perimeter and takes them alive."
"And Angelo?" Seth asked. "If he's at the Drake Hotel with the New York bosses, he'll flee the country the second he hears the ambush failed."
Fiona’s smile turned razor-sharp.
"Angelo won't hear that the ambush failed," she whispered. "Because at nine-forty-five tomorrow morning, I will personally walk into the grand ballroom at the Drake Hotel."
Seth’s face instantly darkened. He stood up from his chair, his chair scraping violently against the hardwood floor. "No. Absolutely not. You are not going anywhere near Angelo or the Moretti syndicate."
"Seth, listen to me—"
"No!" Seth growled, stepping around the desk to stand over her, his broad chest heaving with sudden, fierce panic. "I am not putting you in the line of fire! Angelo is a ruthless bastard. If he suspects for a single second that you know what's happening, he will shoot you where you stand!"
Fiona stood up slowly, stepping right into his space until her broad chest pressed against his tailored vest. She looked up into his eyes, showing zero fear of his imposing height or legendary temper.
"Angelo thinks I am a fat, stupid, humiliated woman who spent her wedding night crying in a corner," Fiona said, her voice dropping into an intense, quiet rhythm. "He considers me entirely harmless. When I walk into that ballroom with a legal freeze order signed by a federal judge on the Aegis Holdings offshore accounts, he won't shoot me—he will panic. He will try to negotiate. And while he is trying to figure out how a heavy girl stole his eleven million dollars, your men will walk in and put the cuffs on him."
Seth stared down at her, his heart hammering violently against his ribs. The thought of her in danger—the thought of anyone touching a single hair on her head—made a savage, murderous instinct flare inside his blood.
"Why would you risk your life for this?" Seth asked, his voice shaking with raw, unvarnished emotion. "You owe me nothing, Fiona. The debt is gone. I will tear up your father's papers tonight. You can walk away with millions."
Fiona reached up, her broad, soft hands gently framing his sharp jawline. She felt the fierce tension in his muscles, the rapid pulse behind his ear, and the absolute sincerity in his eyes.
"I don't want to walk away, Seth," Fiona whispered, her hazel eyes glittering with soft, unyielding warmth. "Two months ago, everyone in that cathedral laughed at me. They thought I was a worthless bride traded off to a monster. But you didn't laugh at me tonight. You listened to me. You trusted me. You treated me like an equal."
She leaned up on her tiptoes, pressing her forehead gently against his.
"I am not leaving my king to fight his snakes alone," she murmured.
Seth closed his eyes, his heavy arms wrapping around her thick waist, pulling her tightly against his chest as if trying to merge her solid strength into his very soul. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, breathing in the scent of lavender and clean rain that clung to her skin.
May you like
"If anything happens to you tomorrow," Seth growled softly against her skin, "I will burn this entire city to ash."
"Nothing will happen to me," Fiona smiled, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders. "I'm much too heavy for them to push around."
