Chapter 22 The Trap

• The city never slept, but tonight it felt different—like it had been holding its breath, waiting for the storm to hit. From the top floors of the Volkova penthouse, Milady and Konstantine watched the grid of lights blur in the rain-slick streets below. The storm wasn’t outside, not yet. It was coming from the shadows of ambition, betrayal, and a woman who thought herself untouchable.
• “Delilah’s moving faster than I expected,” Konstantine murmured, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes, cool blue and cold as metal, scanned the skyline like he could see into the alleys and warehouses where deals were made in blood. Milady sipped her tea, her gaze fixed on the rain.
• “She doesn’t know what she’s walking into,” she said softly, though there was steel in her voice. “And she’ll never see it coming.”