Chapter 6 - THE TRAP
Stefan's first response was immediate.
"No."
Elara stood beside Maeve's incubator.
"You haven't heard the plan."
"I heard enough."
"Then you're doing it again."
He stopped.
"Doing what?"
"Deciding for me."
Stefan looked at their sleeping daughter.
Then at Elara.
His jaw tightened.
"Tell me."
It was perhaps the hardest two words he had spoken all week.
Elara did.
The ledgers contained more than financial irregularities.
They contained patterns.
Dates.
Shipments.
Ports.
Payments.
Enough information to connect Armon's legitimate businesses to years of coercion and fraud.
But evidence was not the same as prosecution.
Armon would claim forged records.
Elara needed him to authenticate them himself.
"You want to meet him."
"Yes."
"Absolutely—"
Stefan stopped.
Elara raised an eyebrow.
He breathed through his nose.
"I strongly object."
"Better."
Lucian, standing near the window, nearly smiled.
Stefan noticed.
"Don't."
Lucian looked away.
Elara continued.
"We tell Armon I'll trade the originals for complete control of Northglass and guaranteed separation from Voss Atlantic."
"He won't believe you trust him."
"I don't need him to believe I trust him. I need him to believe I'm angry enough at you to hurt you."
Stefan's expression became unreadable.
"That won't be difficult."
The honesty silenced them.
Elara softened slightly.
"Stefan."
"No. You're right."
He looked at her.
"I gave him the weapon. We may as well use it."
They arranged the meeting for the following night at a private waterfront warehouse outside Halifax.
Stefan wanted twenty men.
Elara allowed six.
He wanted her wearing a tracker.
She agreed.
He wanted body armor.
She stared at her postpartum body.
"Do they make one compatible with stitches and breast pumps?"
Lucian coughed to hide a laugh.
Stefan did not find it funny.
They compromised on concealed security nearby.
At 11:47 p.m., Elara entered the warehouse carrying a leather folder.
Armon Dry waited beside the windows.
Camille stood with him.
That surprised Elara.
Camille looked different without the red dress and hotel lighting.
Smaller.
More nervous.
"You came," Armon said.
"You threatened my daughter."
"Motivation is useful."
Elara placed the folder on a table.
"Originals."
Armon reached.
She covered them with her hand.
"First, I want to hear exactly what they're worth."
He smiled.
"Your husband didn't tell you?"
"I'm no longer relying on my husband."
Camille's mouth curved.
"There she is."
Elara looked at her.
Camille's confidence flickered.
"You sent those messages deliberately."
"Of course."
"Why?"
Camille glanced at Armon.
Elara understood.
"You wanted me to find out."
Camille said nothing.
Armon became impatient.
"Enough."
"No," Elara said. "Not enough."
She looked at Camille.
"Did your uncle tell you to sleep with Stefan?"
From the darkness outside the warehouse, Stefan heard every word through Elara's transmitter.
His face went rigid.
Camille's eyes filled with something that looked almost like shame.
"He told me to get close."
"And the rest?"
"Was my choice."
Elara nodded.
Painful.
Useful.
True.
"Why?"
Camille laughed bitterly.
"Because Stefan Voss is the sort of man women spend their lives being warned about and wanting anyway."
Elara's expression didn't change.
"And because he was married?"
Camille looked at her.
"That made it easier."
"How?"
"Married men don't ask you to build a life with them."
For the first time, Elara saw something beneath Camille's arrogance.
Damage.
Not innocence.
But damage.
Armon slammed his palm onto the table.
"The ledgers."
Elara turned.
"What do they prove?"
His patience snapped.
"They prove nothing unless someone understands them."
"Explain them."
Armon smiled.
"You think I'm stupid?"
"No."
Elara's hand moved toward the folder.
"I think you're proud."
That did it.
Armon stepped closer.
"Those accounts prove I built Voss Atlantic before your husband learned how to tie a Windsor knot. Every port relationship he owns exists because I bought someone first."
Outside, Lucian whispered, "Got it."
Recorded.
Clear.
Armon continued.
"The Halifax licenses. Customs officers. Union intermediaries. Every one of them."
Elara let him talk.
Pride did the rest.
Then Camille noticed the tiny transmitter beneath Elara's collar.
Her eyes widened.
"Uncle."
Armon turned.
Too late.
Camille reached for Elara.
Stefan was through the side door before anyone else moved.
He crossed the warehouse like a storm.
But Elara shouted:
"Stop!"
Stefan froze.
Security surrounded the building.
Armon stared at him.
"You."
Stefan's eyes were on Elara.
"Are you hurt?"
"No."
Only then did he look at Armon.
Law enforcement vehicles approached outside.
Not Stefan's men.
Federal investigators.
Armon's face changed.
Elara had not given the records to a rival.
She had given them to authorities through her attorney.
The meeting had been supervised.
Armon looked at her with disbelief.
"You'd destroy your husband's company?"
Elara answered calmly.
"If that's the price of ending this, yes."
Stefan looked at her.
Then at Armon.
"So would I."
Armon laughed.
"You think she stays after this?"
Stefan's expression became almost peaceful.
"No."
Elara looked at him.
He continued.
"I think she gets to decide."
For once, Stefan Voss did not fight for possession of the thing he loved.
He simply stood beside her while the empire he had spent half his life building began to burn.
Then Camille whispered:
"Wait."
Everyone turned.
She was crying.
"There is another ledger."
Armon went white.
"Camille."
She stepped away from him.
"The one in Geneva."
"Shut your mouth."
"The one with the names."
Elara stared.
"What names?"
Camille looked directly at Stefan.
"People Armon paid inside Voss Atlantic."
Lucian's face changed.
Stefan noticed.
"How many?"
Camille swallowed.
"Seven."
"Who?"
May you like
Her answer made the warehouse silent.
"One of them is Tobias."
