Chapter 8 - The Bait
The devastating truth crashed down on Graham, crushing his arrogant ego into dust.
The phone call an hour ago hadn't been Claire begging for her life. The tears, the shaking voice, the fake ID—it was all a perfectly orchestrated performance. She had deliberately left a digital breadcrumb trail for Graham’s men to find, knowing his ruthless ego would force him to come eliminate her in person.
She had lured the boss of the Ashford syndicate into a fortified stronghold owned entirely by the most dangerous family in the country.
"Claire, please," Graham stammered, his handsome face twisting into a pathetic, desperate mask of fear. He dropped to his knees on the hospital floor, ignoring the laser sights painting his chest. "I made a mistake! The cartel heiress forced my hand! I love you! I love Owen! We can be a family!"
Claire didn't flinch. She gently stroked the soft blue and pink striped hospital blanket covering her sleeping son.
"You didn't look like a loving father when you pointed a suppressed pistol at my chest thirty seconds ago," Claire replied, her voice echoing with cinematic realism.
Don Romanov turned his head, looking down at the pathetic, kneeling man in the dark trench coat. The older boss tapped his silver cane against the floor.
May you like
"You insulted my blood," Don Romanov said quietly, his voice carrying the weight of an executioner's axe. "You threatened my grandson. The Ashford syndicate is currently being dismantled by my men as we speak. Your accounts are frozen. Your business is ashes."
👉 Graham's entire empire was gone in the blink of an eye, leaving Claire to deliver the final, brutal judgment.
