Chapter 4 - The Federal Trap"Federal Anti-Corruption Bureau?" I muttered, a dark, humorless laugh escaping my lips.
The heavy oak doors of my office slammed open before I could even reach for the desk drawer. Richard Vance strode into the room, flanked by four heavily armed federal agents in full tactical gear, their assault rifles raised and pointed dead at my chest.
Richard looked different tonight. Gone was the subservient, anxious posture he always maintained around me and my mother. In its place stood a man radiating absolute, toxic power. He wore a crisp, tailored charcoal suit, adjusting his gold-rimmed glasses with a slow, theatrical arrogance.
"Good evening, Adrian," Richard smiled, his teeth flashing in the dim office light. "Or should I say, former CEO."
"You've been busy, Richard," I said, keeping my voice dangerously calm as I stepped in front of Elena, shielding her from the laser sights dancing across the room. "Stealing twelve million from a children's charity and thinking you could pin it on me with a forged federal warrant?"
"Oh, it’s not forged," Richard chuckled, stepping forward and pulling a stiff blue-backed document from his inner pocket. "Signed by Judge Harrison himself. And as for the evidence? Well, when the financial audits were run tonight, every single illicit transaction was traced directly from your personal terminal, using your biometric signature."
Elena stepped out from behind me, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "That's impossible. We were just looking at the logs. The terminal records show the override came from the East Wing proxy server—from your IP address, Richard."
Richard’s eyes flicked over to Elena, a cruel sneer twisting his mouth. "Ah, the little housemaid. Still playing detective, are we? Who’s going to believe a maid over federal forensic accountants, my dear? In fact, your name is on the accessory manifest as well. Conspiring to conceal corporate assets."
"You arrogant bastard," I growled, muscles tensing as I calculated the distance between Richard and myself.
"Don't even think about it, Mr. Moretti," the lead federal agent snapped, cocking his rifle with a metallic clack. "Put your hands behind your back. Now."
Heavy steel cuffs slammed onto my wrists, the cold metal biting into my skin. As they yanked me backward, I caught Elena’s eyes. She didn't panic. Instead, her eyes burned with a fierce, quiet intelligence. As the agents dragged me toward the door, her fingers subtly brushed against my coat pocket, slipping something in without the agents noticing.
My encrypted backup flash drive.
"Take him down to the transport," Richard ordered, waving a hand dismissively. "And search the rest of the house. Make sure no accomplices escape."
As they hauled me down the grand staircase—the very same staircase where Victoria had staged her pathetic little drama just hours earlier—flashbulbs suddenly blinded me.
Outside the mansion, parked along the pristine gravel driveway, were half a dozen news vans. Reporters and camera crews were swarming the estate like vultures, microphones thrust into the air as the federal agents pushed me toward a black armored van.
"Mr. Moretti! Is it true you embezzled from your own charity fund?" "Did you frame your own mother to cover your tracks?" "Is the Moretti empire collapsing?"
The barrage of questions washed over me as they shoved me into the back of the van. The heavy steel doors slammed shut, plunging me into darkness.
Inside the cramped transport, alone with my thoughts, a grim smile finally touched my lips. Richard thought he had won checkmate. He had seized the mansion, bought out a corrupt judge, and locked me away in a federal holding facility.
May you like
He didn't know about the dead-man switch.
And more importantly, he didn't know that Elena was still inside the house, holding the one piece of evidence that could blow his entire criminal empire sky-high.
