Chapter 47 The Bait
They made it back to the safe house barely just after four in the morning, the adrenaline still buzzing under Alessia’s skin like static she couldn’t shake.
Liam went straight to the laptop. No wasted motion. No small talk. He transferred the footage immediately, into a encrypted drive, then another, then another. Backups stacked on backups. A man who’d learned the hard way that nothing existed unless it existed in triplicate.
“This is gold,” he said, eyes locked on the screen. “From a clear video of him to the clear audio and him taking the cash. Them talking about killing you.”
Alessia didn’t sit for a second. She paced around relentlessly. She couldn’t stop moving.
“But he knows,” she said. “He saw me. He knows we were listening. He’s not going to wait for us to release this. He’ll come for us first.”
Liam didn’t look up. “Then we don’t wait either.”
He straightened, mind already several steps ahead. She could see it happening, plans snapping into place, angles tightening.
“We force him to make a move,” he said. “We make him come to us.”
“How?”
“Simple, we give him something he can’t ignore.”
He looked at her with that really look.
“Something that gives him leverage over everyone.”
The words landed, heavy.
“The Council ledger,” Alessia said quietly.
Liam’s eyes narrowed. “Does it exist?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But he doesn’t know that either.”
She moved to the table, thoughts racing now, the pieces aligning, coming together. “If I tell him I have it, names, accounts, operations going back decades, he won’t be able to walk away. It’s too big. Too dangerous.”
“And when he comes,” Liam said, “we get him talking. Confessing. On record.”
“He won’t do it willingly.”
“No.” Liam’s mouth curved into something cold. “But he will if he thinks he’s winning.”
Alessia nodded slowly. “Then we’ll need a place we can control, somewhere far from the city.”
“I have one.” Liam pulled up a map. “Old factory. Industrial district. Used to be ours before we shut the operation down. Empty. No cameras. No civilians.”
She exhaled. “Perfect.”
She picked up one of the burner phones and stared at the blank screen for a moment. This had to feel real. Desperate. Like a last move from someone with nothing left.
She typed carefully.
I have the full Council ledger. Names. Accounts. Operations. I’ll trade it for my grandmother’s location and a clean slate. Midnight tomorrow. I’ll send the location an hour before. Come alone.
She handed the phone to Liam.
“He won’t come alone,” he said.
“I know,” she replied. “But I have to say it. He needs to believe I still think I have leverage.”
She sent it.
The waiting was worse than the running.
Five minutes. Ten.
Then the phone buzzed.
You’re bluffing. The ledger doesn’t exist in usable form.
Her fingers flew roughly, her brain thinking of what lie to tell to make it believable.
While doing the mission, I came across the ledger. Ask your Council friends if it does exist or not.
Another pause.
If you’re lying, this ends badly for you.
Then come find out.
she sent.
Nothing after that.
But Alessia knew.
He’d come.
★★★
They spent the whole day preparing.
Weapons laid out. Checked. Rechecked.
Liam moved with grim efficiency, handguns, rifles, tactical gear pulled from the safe house cache. Alessia helped, her body remembering things her mind wished it didn’t.
“He’ll bring people,” Liam said as he mounted cameras. “Not FBI. Contractors. Deniable.”
“How many?”
“Four minimum. Maybe more.”
She nodded. “We’ve been outnumbered before.”
Liam glanced at her. “These won’t be soldiers following loyalty. These will be professionals.”
Alessia finished loading her weapon. “Then we don’t make mistakes.”
By nightfall, they were in position.
She sent the location at eleven.
Then they waited.
The factory was dead and hollow—broken windows, rusted machinery, the floor scarred by oil and time. A place that felt like violence had always belonged to it.
At 11:45, Liam’s voice came through her earpiece.
“Movement. Three SUVs. Blacked out.”
Her pulse jumped. “Count?”
“Nine. Armed. Tactical.”
She swallowed. “Positions?”
“Perimeter. Overwatch. Three with Thorne.”
Alessia closed her eyes once. Then opened them.
“I’m going out.”
“Alessia—”
“He has to see me,” she said. “If he doesn’t think he’s winning, this doesn’t work.”
A beat of silence.
“Don’t die,” Liam said.
She stepped into the open.
Moonlight spilled through the broken skylights, painting her exposed, alone. She stood still. Waiting patiently.
The doors creaked open.
Marcus Thorne walked in like he owned the place.
Calm. Confident. Flanked by men who didn’t hesitate.
“Lex,” he said, smiling. “You’ve been busy.”
“So have you.”
“You said you had something for me.”
“I do.”
“Then show me.”
“You show me first,” she said. “Proof my grandmother’s alive.”
Thorne chuckled.
“I’m not here to trade.”
Her chest tightened. “What?”
“You really thought I’d negotiate?” He gestured, and the mercenaries raised their weapons. “I’m here to collect.”
The gun pointed towards her temple, she felt cold instantly, not the kind that makes her scared.
“So tell me where O’Sullivan is,” Thorne said, looking around. “Because I know he won't let you come here alone, where is he?.”
Silence.
Thorne sighed. “Pity, he's scared or he let you far death alone. Kill her and get me the ledger."
“Wait,” Alessia said quickly. “Kill me and the ledger goes public.”
He hesitated.
Just long enough.
For Liam to launch an attack.
A shot shattered the spotlight.
Darkness swallowed the floor.
Liam’s voice cut through the chaos. “Move!”
Gunfire exploded around her.
Alessia hit the ground, rolling hard behind concrete as bullets tore through the space she’d been standing seconds before.
The trap had sprung.
Not cleanly.
Not safely.
And now there was no plan left only to survival.