Chapter 7 - The Trap in the Library
Penelope didn't hesitate. Fear for Cassian’s life eclipsed every rule, every suspicion, every instinct of self-preservation. She rushed to the desk, her bare feet silent against the Persian rug, and lifted the heavy receiver.
Julian stood beside her, his breath hot against her shoulder, his eyes gleaming with an unnatural, manic intensity.
She dialed the ten digits Julian recited from memory. The line clicked twice, a low static hum filling her ear, followed by a gruff voice. "Warren."
"Mr. Warren! Please, you have to listen to me!" Penelope begged, tears spilling over her lashes and dripping onto the mahogany desk. "This is Penelope Blake! Cassian is in danger! Julian told me there’s an explosive in his town car at the front gate! His security is compromised! Please send your agents, please save him, I'm begging you!"
There was a five-second silence on the other end of the line.
Then, a low, triumphant chuckle came through the speaker. "Thank you, Miss Blake. That’s all the probable cause we needed."
Penelope frowned, the cold panic shifting into a dreadful confusion. "What? What are you talking about?"
"A civilian distress call from inside the residence reporting illicit explosives and weapon trafficking," Warren said smoothly. "My federal tactical units have just breached the outer perimeter. We're coming in with heavy artillery, warrants for high-treason racketeering, and full clearance to seize every asset in that compound. You just gave us the front door key, darling."
The line went dead.
Penelope lowered the receiver, her hands trembling violently. She turned around to face Julian, whose frantic, terrified demeanor had vanished entirely.
In its place was a wide, sickening smile.
"What did you just do?" Penelope whispered, horror dawning on her. "There is no bomb, is there?"
"Of course not," Julian laughed, leaning back against the bookshelf with a glass of scotch he had just poured. "My dear, naive baker. Cassian’s security isn't compromised. The town car is completely safe. But Cassian has an entire subterranean vault beneath this wing containing thirty years of offshore banking ledgers and political leverage. Warren couldn't get a search warrant without an emergency exigent-circumstances claim of imminent explosive violence. And who better to provide that claim than Cassian's terrified, innocent fiancée?"
"You used me," she gasped, backing away until her spine hit the desk. "You set this up to destroy your own brother!"
"I set this up to take what belongs to me!" Julian snarled, his eyes flashing with raw malice. "Cassian took our father's empire! He treated me like a useless dependent! Tonight, the feds take him away in chains, the assets freeze, and as the sole surviving Mercer heir with clean hands, I take control of the entire estate!"
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He took a step toward her, raising his glass in a mock toast. "You really are as gullible as you look, Penelope. And the best part? When Cassian realizes you were the one who made the call, he will know that you chose to betray him."
"No," a voice sounded from the darkness behind the heavy velvet curtains. "She didn't betray me."
