Chapter 6 - The Honeypot

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The dynamic in the Bellucci estate shifted with invisible, terrifying precision over the next two weeks.
To the outside world, Damian and Selene were the perfect high-society mafia couple. They attended galas, smiled for the press, and continued planning a wedding that would unite two of the most powerful logistical syndicates on the East Coast.
But inside the walls, Damian was orchestrating a lethal counter-intelligence operation.
He didn't confront Selene. He didn't change the access codes to the study, which would have tipped her off. Instead, he used the very access she was exploiting against her.
One morning, while I was dusting the bookshelves, Damian walked in carrying a thick, red leather ledger.
He didn't lock it in the subterranean vault. He placed it casually inside the small wall safe behind a painting—a safe he knew Selene had the combination to.
He looked at me as he closed the safe door.
“Some ledgers are incredibly valuable, Nora,” Damian said quietly, adjusting his cuffs. “They contain routing numbers, payoff lists, the names of corrupt harbor masters. If a rival family were to obtain such a ledger, they could intercept shipments worth tens of millions.”
“It sounds like something that should be kept very secure, sir,” I replied, wiping down a mahogany side table.
“It should be,” Damian agreed, a dark, predatory smirk touching his lips. “Unless, of course, the routing numbers lead to empty shipping containers heavily monitored by my tactical teams. In that case, it is merely cheese in a mousetrap.”
He was baiting her. He was feeding Selene fabricated shipping schedules to see if her father would act on the stolen intelligence.
“I trust the trap is well-constructed, sir,” I said.
“We will find out soon enough,” Damian murmured.
That night, my shift ended late. As I walked down the dim corridor toward the staff wing, I saw a shadow slip out of Damian’s study.
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It was Selene. She was clutching her silk robe tightly, moving quickly and silently toward the guest wing. She didn't see me standing in the alcove.
She had taken the bait. The future Mrs. Bellucci was officially stealing from the King. And she had absolutely no idea that the noose was already tightening around her neck.