Chapter 5 - The Trap is SetThree days later, the corporate offices of Russo Global Logistics downtown hummed with quiet, high-stakes efficiency.
Sloan Valente-Hayes—now operating as a premier financial consultant and forensic auditor for high-end syndicates across the Tri-State area—sat across from Victor at his massive glass conference table.
Spread out between them were encrypted hard drives, international shell company ledgers, and bank routing numbers that mapped out the entire financial infrastructure of the Moretti family.
“You’re cutting it close, Victor,” Sloan noted coolly, adjusting her sharp designer glasses as she scrolled through a spreadsheet. “The Moretti syndicate has been moving millions through offshore real-estate accounts in the Cayman Islands. If we don't freeze these assets by Friday, they’ll liquidate and launch a full-scale offensive against your freight hubs.”
Victor stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows, staring down at the Chicago River winding past the Loop. He held a cup of black coffee, his expression carved from dark granite.
“They won't have the chance,” Victor said flatly. “My enforcers locked down their primary distribution warehouse in Cicero last night. They’re bleeding cash faster than they can launder it.”
Sloan looked up from her screen, a faint, knowing smile playing on her lips. Rumors had been swirling through the underground circles for days about the reclusive, ice-cold Victor Russo suddenly hiring a civilian maid and moving her into his master suite.
“I heard you brought a civilian into the fortress, Victor,” Sloan teased gently. “Word is, she’s the first woman in six years to survive a night in your quarters.”
Victor didn’t blink. He turned his head slowly, his dark eyes fixing on Sloan with a warning edge. “Careful, Sloan. Dante might be lenient with his friends, but I’m not.”
Sloan raised her hands in mock surrender, laughing softly. “Relax, Victor. I’m just saying... it takes a very specific kind of woman to tame a wolf. Make sure you don't scare her off with your mafia nonsense.”
Before Victor could reply, his secure cell phone buzzed on the table.
He picked it up, swiping the screen. It was Mrs. Gable calling from the estate.
“Boss,” Mrs. Gable’s voice was uncharacteristically rushed and breathless. “You need to get back to the mansion immediately.”
Victor’s body went completely rigid. “What happened? Did the Morettis breach the perimeter?”
“No, sir,” Mrs. Gable said. “It’s Ms. Bennett’s brother, Tommy. He... well, he just arrived at the front gates in a private medical transport. He says he checked himself out of the hospital because he wanted to surprise his sister for her birthday. And he brought an unexpected guest with him.”
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Victor frowned, his chest tightening with a sudden, ominous dread. “What guest?”
“A woman, sir,” Mrs. Gable murmured. “An older woman who claims to be their estranged aunt—and she brought a federal prosecutor with her.”
