Chapter 9 - THE ULTIMATE TRAPBy midnight, I had formulated a plan so intricate, so precise, and so devastating that Salvatore Rossi and my family wouldn't know what hit them until the trap had already snapped shut.
I didn't confront them immediately. I let them cook.
I allowed Salvatore Rossi to believe he had found my weak spot—my toxic, greedy family willing to sell me out for a payday. I let my mother and sister believe they were orchestrating the ultimate revenge, drafting fraudulent legal claims with Rossi’s high-priced corporate lawyers.
Two days later, at precisely 2:00 a.m., the trap was sprung.
Salvatore Rossi’s elite strike team—six heavily armed mercenaries—attempted a coordinated midnight raid on my Brooklyn penthouse, believing I was vulnerable and unguarded while Maya and Liam slept.
They breached the service elevator doors on the top floor, moving silently through the corridor with suppressed firearms drawn.
They thought they had caught me sleeping.
They didn't know that every single motion sensor, infrared camera, and smart lock in the building was under my direct command.
As the six mercenaries stepped into the main foyer, the steel security shutters slammed shut behind them with a deafening CLANG, sealing every exit. The overhead lights flickered once, then plunged the entire floor into pitch-black darkness.
"Ambush!" one of the mercenaries shouted, raising his rifle.
Suddenly, high-intensity strobe lights flashed blindingly from the ceiling, disorienting them instantly. Before any of them could pull a trigger, Viktor and his elite tactical team descended from the overhead ventilation grates like ghosts, neutralizing all six intruders in less than thirty seconds without firing a single lethal shot.
I stepped out from my office doorway, walking slowly into the foyer with my hands resting calmly in my pockets.
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I looked down at Salvatore Rossi’s lead enforcer, who was pinned to the floor by Viktor’s heavy boot.
"Tell Salvatore," I said, my voice cutting through the ringing silence of the room like a razor blade, "that if he ever sends amateurs to do a professional's job again, I won't just send his men back in body bags. I'll take his entire territory by sunrise."
