Chapter 11 – The Trap Is Set
The call replayed in Elara's head all day.
"Your husband's past is bloodier than you think."
Damian had always warned her—his world was brutal, cutthroat, built on secrets and power. But until now, she hadn't realized just how many ghosts still haunted him. And how many enemies would rather see her as collateral than a partner.
But Elara wasn't a pawn anymore.
She was going to be the one to flip the board.
"Let's bait them," she said calmly.
Damian, across from her in the sleek penthouse kitchen, paused mid-sip of his espresso. "Define 'them.'"
"Monroe. Whoever made that call. Anyone who thinks I'm your weak spot."
His jaw flexed. "You are not weak."
"I know. But they don't."
She walked toward him, holding up the burner phone that received the threat. "Whoever this is, they're watching me. Not you. So let's give them something to see."
He eyed her. "What exactly are you proposing?"
"A trap. We leak a fake narrative—something that makes it look like you've cut me off. That I'm hurt. Alone. Vulnerable."
"And then?"
"I'll meet with the caller. Lure them out. We flip the script."
Damian shook his head immediately. "No. That's not happening. You're not putting yourself in that position."
"I already am in that position," she said, voice rising. "I get the threats, Damian. They didn't call you. They called me. I'm the one in the crosshairs."
His expression hardened. "That's why I want to keep you out of this."
"And that's why you'll lose," she snapped. "You still think this is your war. But it's ours now. Let me fight."
For a moment, silence fell.
Then, slowly, Damian nodded.
"If we do this, we do it my way. Controlled. Monitored. You don't step into that room unless I have ten eyes on every exit."
"Deal," Elara said.
Their fingers brushed—an agreement. A vow.
Over the next two days, the plan was set.
Juliette, surprisingly, helped with the deception.
She leaked a story to a discreet media contact: Damian Voss's Wife Takes Leave from VossTech After 'Personal Setback.
Photos were staged. Elara looking strained. Walking out of the office alone. Damian ignoring her publicly.
By the third day, the narrative had taken hold: Elara was isolated. Emotionally shaken. A perfect target.
That night, the burner phone buzzed again.
Blocked number. One line of text:
"Meet me. Pier 9. 2 AM. Come alone."
"Pier 9 is a trap," Damian muttered, staring at the message.
"Good," Elara said. "That's the point."
They sat in the surveillance room beneath VossTech HQ, screens flickering with satellite and drone feeds.
Damian had mobilized a private team—ex-military, silent, loyal. Five of them would be hidden in plain sight at the pier. Simone would track the signal of the burner phone, triangulating the source.
"Do you remember your cue word?" Damian asked.
Elara nodded. "Ashes."
"Say it, and we pull you out."
She reached out and took his hand.
"If this goes sideways," she whispered, "promise me something."
"No."
"Damian—"
"I'm not promising anything. Because nothing's going sideways. You're coming back."
Their eyes locked.
And for the first time, she saw it in him—not fear of failure. But fear of losing her.
2:04 AM.
The air at Pier 9 was damp, thick with salt and silence.
Elara stepped carefully along the dimly lit path, heart thudding beneath her jacket. Her earpiece crackled softly—Simone's voice confirming the backup team was in position.
Then a shadow emerged from the dock warehouse.
Tall. Hooded.
"Didn't expect you'd actually come," the figure said.
Elara's voice was steady. "You called. I listened."
The figure stepped into the light.
Liam.
Her stomach twisted—but she didn't flinch.
He was leaner than before. Pale. Eyes darting like a hunted animal.
"You look good," he said. "Different."
"You look desperate."
Liam chuckled. "I suppose I am. You've made quite the mess for Monroe."
"That was the idea."
His smile vanished. "You shouldn't have done that, Elara. You've no idea what kind of fire you've stepped into."
"I stepped into it when you dragged me in. Or did you forget you used me as a mole?"
Liam's gaze hardened. "I never wanted to hurt you."
"Then why are you here?"
He pulled out a flash drive.
"Because Monroe doesn't just want to ruin Damian. He wants to bury him. And he's going to use your father's past to do it."
Elara froze. "What?"
Liam nodded. "Your father used to work for one of Monroe's shell corporations. He was on the payroll. He signed NDAs. If the truth comes out—it won't just destroy Damian. It'll destroy you."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because I'm done being his puppet. And because I loved you once."
Elara's voice was cold. "Then give me the drive and disappear."
Liam looked at her—like he still believed there was a world where they could've worked.
Then, slowly, he handed it over.
That's when Elara saw it.
The glint of red light.
A sniper dot—on her shoulder.
Simone's voice cracked in her ear. "He's being tracked—someone's got eyes on both of you. MOVE."
Elara whispered, "Ashes."
Gunfire rang out.
Chaos exploded.
But by the time the dust cleared, Elara was safe.
And Liam?
Gone.
Back at the penthouse, Damian clutched her in his arms like he'd never let go again.
"You did well," he whispered. "But never again, Elara. Never without me."
She looked up at him, bruised but burning with adrenaline.
"We're in this together, Damian. And we're not done yet."
WHEW 😮💨 That chapter was a MOVIE! Elara goes full femme fatale and stares her past—and her ex—dead in the eye. Liam reappears, Monroe's playing dirtier than ever, and now we've got another dark twist: Elara's father is somehow tied to all of it?!
💬 Let's unpack:
Can Liam be trusted now?
What secrets do you think Elara's father was hiding?
Is Monroe the endgame villain… or just the beginning?
🎯 Don't forget to add to library, leave a comment, and hit it with your power stones! Chapter 12 brings in legacy scandals, a courtroom ambush, and one hell of a proposition from Damian… 😏