Chapter 191 The Trap Is Set
Annabelle didn’t sleep that night. The flash drive burned like a live coal in her pocket. Every shadow in the small motel room looked like a watcher.
Every sound made her heart jump. She sat by the window, eyes on the empty street, mind racing through plans.
She had learned her lesson the hard way. Trust was poison now. If Carson wanted to meet again, it would be on her terms.
By morning, she was ready. She dressed in dark clothes, tied her hair back, and packed only what she needed—a burner phone, a recorder hidden in her coat, and a second device tracking her own signal.
At the small café near the river, she found an old contact—Danny, a private investigator she had once worked with years ago. He looked rougher now, with more wrinkles and a heavy frown, but his eyes were still sharp.
“Annabelle?” he said, surprised when she sat down. “You shouldn’t be out in the open.”
“I don’t have a choice,” she said quietly. “I need your help again. Just one last job.”
He leaned closer. “What kind of job?”
She slid the flash drive across the table. “I need you to track anyone connected to this file. Don’t open it. Just trace it. I also need a backup team, off the grid. No one from the old network.”
Danny studied her face. “You’re in deep, aren’t you?”
“Deeper than I ever wanted to be,” she said. “Can you do it?”
He nodded slowly. “I’ll make a few calls. Be careful, Annabelle. You look like someone with a target on her back.”
She gave him a small, tired smile. “That’s because I am.”
\---
That evening, Carson sent another encrypted message.
Mother is meeting with Fred tomorrow night. I overheard them talking about closing the accounts. They’re using an old property near the edge of town—an abandoned villa by the cliffs.
Annabelle stared at the screen, her pulse quickening. A villa by the cliffs. It sounded too deliberate, too easy.
Come alone, the message ended.
She sighed. Of course.
Annabelle picked up her phone and dialed Danny. “I need eyes on a location,” she said. “And I need them quiet. Tomorrow night.”
“Understood,” he replied.
She ended the call and leaned back against the wall. Everything inside her screamed that this was a trap. But sometimes, the only way to catch a spider was to walk straight into its web—with fire in your hands.
\---
The next night, mist hung heavy over the cliffs. The villa was large, silent, and dark except for one flickering light in an upstairs room.
Annabelle approached carefully, every step measured. She wore a small camera on her jacket and a wire under her shirt, connected to the recorder Danny had given her.
Her phone buzzed once—Danny’s signal. We’re in position.
Good.
She took a slow breath and stepped inside. The old floorboards creaked under her boots. The air smelled of dust and salt.
“Annabelle?” a voice called softly from upstairs.
It was Carson.
She followed the sound, every muscle tense. When she reached the top, she saw him standing in the half-lit room. His hands were raised slightly, showing he wasn’t armed.
“You came,” he said.
“You didn’t give me much of a choice,” she replied. “What is this place?”
“It’s one of Mother’s old safe houses,” he said. “No one knows it exists except Fred and me.”
“Then why bring me here?”
“Because the final ledger is hidden here,” Carson said, glancing at the corner of the room. “A black book—names, dates, accounts. It proves everything.”
Annabelle looked around. “You expect me to believe that?”
“You don’t have to,” he said quietly. “Just see for yourself.”
He walked to a cabinet and pulled it open. Inside was a small, locked box. He placed it on the table.
“The key’s under the floorboard,” he said. “I don’t have it anymore. Fred took it.”
Annabelle folded her arms. “Then why tell me?”
“Because he’s bringing it tonight.”
She froze. “What?”
“He doesn’t know you’re here,” Carson said quickly. “But if you wait, you can catch them both. End this.”
Annabelle stepped closer, eyes narrowing. “You could be lying again.”
“I’m not,” he said, his voice shaking. “I swear it. I want this over too. She’s lost control. If she goes down, maybe I can—”
A noise downstairs cut him off. Footsteps. Slow, careful.
Carson turned pale. “They’re early.”
Annabelle’s hand went to the small gun in her pocket. “Hide,” she whispered.
He shook his head. “No. If they see me with you, it’s over.”
“Then get out,” she said through clenched teeth.
Carson hesitated, then slipped into the shadows near the door. Annabelle crouched behind a shelf, breathing quietly.
The door opened. Fred stepped in first, holding a briefcase. His face looked tense, eyes darting around. Behind him came Victoria, elegant even in the dim light, her expression cold and controlled.
“Leave the case on the table,” Victoria said. “We’ll destroy the rest later.”
Fred obeyed silently.
Annabelle stayed still, heart pounding. She could hear her own breath.
Victoria walked closer to the cabinet, her heels clicking softly. “So this is where you hid it, Carson,” she murmured, unaware that he was nearby. “Always predictable.”
She opened the box and pulled out a thick black book.
“There it is,” she said, smiling faintly. “The key to everything.”
Annabelle’s fingers twitched. She wanted to step out, to shout, to expose them. But she waited. She needed them to talk.
Fred’s voice trembled. “We should burn it. It’s too risky.”
“Not yet,” Victoria said. “We still need leverage. The girl is desperate, frightened. She’ll come to us eventually.”
Annabelle’s stomach turned.
“She already has,” she whispered under her breath.
Carson stepped forward suddenly. “Mother, stop!”
Victoria spun, her eyes wide. “Carson?”
Annabelle rose from her hiding spot, her gun pointed straight at them. “It’s over.”
Fred froze. Victoria’s expression hardened instantly.
“You really think you can stop me?” she said coolly. “After everything I built?”
“I don’t need to stop you,” Annabelle said. “I just needed you to talk.”
From her jacket pocket, a faint beep sounded—the signal that Danny’s recorder was active. Every word had been captured.
Victoria’s lips parted, realizing too late.
“You—”
“Save it,” Annabelle snapped. “You’ve done enough.”
Fred looked terrified. Carson stared at the ground, shaking his head.
But before anyone could move, Victoria laughed softly. “You think the truth will save you, Annabelle? You’re still playing my game.”
Then, the lights went out.
A loud crash followed, and when Annabelle turned, the black book was gone.
Victoria and Fred had vanished into the darkness.
“Damn it!” Annabelle shouted, fumbling for her flashlight.
Carson’s voice echoed in the dark. “They planned this!”
Annabelle shone her light toward the door—empty. Only the sound of waves below and the echo of fading footsteps remained.
She sank to her knees, breathing hard. The trap had worked halfway. She had the recording—but not the ledger.
As she stared into the shadows, one thought burned through her exhaustion:
This wasn’t the end. It was just the next move in Victoria’s twisted game.