Chapter 8 - The Hidden Honeypot
Julian stared at the blinking red monitors in sheer, unadulterated panic.
He forcefully shoved the bank manager aside and frantically slammed his fingers against the keyboard.
"What did you do?" Julian screamed at the manager, his sophisticated facade entirely crumbling.
Vanessa pulled out her cell phone and furiously dialed her offshore banking contacts to figure out what went wrong.
I broke free from the confused security guards and walked back into the glass suite with a triumphant smile.
"I told you I was not a fool, Julian," I said, my voice dripping with absolute satisfaction.
The original documents they had stolen from Marcus's safe were exactly the documents I wanted them to take.
I had known Vanessa was spying on the law firm, so I intentionally left the forged documents in the vault as bait.
The papers they used to authorize the transfer were embedded with a highly illegal digital signature protocol.
"Those accounts you just tried to drain were federal honeypots," I explained, watching the color drain from their faces.
"My private investigator linked those specific routing numbers to a massive federal fraud investigation."
By executing the transfer with those exact documents, Julian had just triggered an automatic asset freeze.
Every single bank account, property deed, and corporate holding attached to his name was now locked by the government.
Vanessa dropped her phone onto the floor, realizing her entire international espionage career was officially ruined.
Sarah backed away toward the door, desperately trying to escape before the authorities arrived.
"You absolute idiot!" Vanessa shrieked at Julian, slapping him violently across the face.
"You told me she was too stupid to realize what we were doing!"
Julian ignored Vanessa and lunged across the room directly at me, his eyes filled with murderous rage.
He grabbed me by the throat, slamming my back brutally against the thick glass wall of the suite.
"I will kill you myself!" Julian roared, his hands tightening like steel vises around my windpipe.
The bank security guards drew their weapons and yelled for him to let me go, but they were afraid to shoot.
I gasped for air, struggling to break his grip as my vision began to blur at the edges.
Suddenly, a loud, sharp crack echoed through the entire bank lobby.
Julian let out a blood-curdling scream and collapsed onto the floor, clutching his bleeding leg.
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I slid down the glass wall, coughing violently and gasping for the sweet oxygen filling my lungs.
Standing in the doorway of the suite was my attorney, Marcus, holding a smoking pistol in his uninjured hand.
