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THE UNDERESTIMATED HEIR: HOW THE MAFIA BOSS’S PLUS-SIZE ASSISTANT TOOK DOWN AN EMPIRE / Chapter 3 / 6

Chapter 3 - The Traitor's Trap

Corbin’s face twisted in rage. "You fat lying whore! Roman, she’s setting me up!"

"Am I?" Helena stood up, pulling a encrypted digital ledger from her pocket—the very ledger she had spent months compiling while everyone ignored her at her desk. "Corbin Hale. Account number 4492 in the Cayman Islands. You received a wire transfer of three million dollars from the Moretti cartel exactly forty-eight hours ago. In exchange, you disabled the security cameras in the East Wing today."

Roman’s eyes snapped to Corbin. The temperature in the room plummeted to sub-zero. "Corbin. Is this true?"

"She's lying! She hacked my accounts!" Corbin panicked, drawing his gun.

But Helena was faster. She kicked the heavy mahogany coffee table forward, slamming it into Corbin’s knees. As he collapsed, she snatched the gun from his hand, pressed the barrel under his chin, and looked at Roman.

"Your house is compromised, Roman," Helena said calmly. "The Morettis aren't coming. They are already here."

Suddenly, the power went out. The entire mansion was plunged into pitch-black darkness.

Gunfire erupted from the hallways downstairs. The Moretti assault had begun in full force. Inside the dark study, Corbin tried to scramble away, but Helena fired a single shot through the dark, piercing his shoulder.

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The ink on the emergency audit report was barely dry when the secure terminal on my desk flashed a violent crimson. I hadn't slept in thirty-six hours, my eyes burning from staring at columns of ghost figures, duplicate invoices, and shell corporations linked to Dominic Rossi. But the red alert wasn’t from Rossi’s faction. It was an internal security flag originating from the estate’s main vault deep beneath the west wing.

The ink on the emergency audit report was barely dry when the secure ter...

The glass shattered into a thousand tiny diamonds on the marble, scattering the light from the chandeliers. The muffled laughter died instantly, replaced by a suffocating, heavy silence that crept outward from the grand staircase.

The glass shattered into a thousand tiny diamonds on the marble, scatter...

The heavy oak doors of my private study clicked shut behind us, locking out the clinical, terrifying silence of the kitchen. Evelyn Crane stood stiffly in front of my mahogany desk, her hands folded over her apron with the rigid precision of someone who had spent decades micromanaging every square inch of my estate. Behind her, Norah hovered near the doorway, clutching her clipboard like a shield.

The heavy oak doors of my private study clicked shut behind us, locking...

"Roman!" Helena shouted over the gunfire. "If you want to live through the night, you follow my lead. Do you trust your assistant now?"

Through the gloom, Roman gripped her arm. "Lead the way, Helena."

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