Chapter 8 - The Desperate Trap
The metallic click of the handcuffs echoing in the interrogation room sounded like the end of my life.
I had been forced to hand Leo over to Samantha, who promised to guard him with her life.
I sat alone in the cold room for hours, staring at the concrete wall, thinking about the woman who had stolen absolutely everything from me.
Bianca had the money, the house, the evidence, and her freedom.
But Bianca had one fatal flaw that I could still exploit.
She was incredibly greedy.
When Agent Harris walked back into the room to formally charge me, I looked up at him with cold determination.
"I can get you the digital proof you need," I said, my voice steady and hard.
Harris crossed his arms, looking highly skeptical.
"You are locked in a federal holding cell, Elena. How exactly do you plan to do that?"
"By offering Bianca the one thing she wants more than seeing me in prison," I replied.
I explained that the flash drive Bianca stole was encrypted with a two-factor biometric lock.
She could look at the files, but she couldn't actually authorize the final transfer of the two million dollars without my thumbprint on a physical scanner.
"Let me call her," I begged.
"Let me tell her I will meet her, scan my thumb, and give her the money if she gives me the drive and leaves the country."
Harris thought about it for a long minute before sliding his cell phone across the metal table.
I dialed Bianca's private number, praying she was arrogant enough to answer.
"Calling from jail, Elena?" Bianca purred through the speaker.
"You can't get the money without my thumbprint, Bianca, you know Nathan's security protocols," I lied smoothly.
There was a long pause on the other end of the line.
"The old docks at midnight," Bianca finally said. "Come alone, or the baby goes to the orphanage."
Harris nodded at me, unocking my handcuffs.
"We will wire you, Elena," Harris said, pulling a tiny microphone from his tactical vest.
"We get a confession on tape, and we take her down."
Midnight arrived quickly, and the abandoned docks were shrouded in a thick, freezing fog.
I walked toward the edge of the pier, clutching a fake biometric scanner Harris had provided.
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A figure emerged from the thick mist, but it wasn't Bianca.
It was my father, Richard, very much alive and pointing a gun directly at my chest.
