Chapter 599: Walking into the Net

Raymond Cole was an old monster who had guarded 14 Central Corridor like a dragon hoards gold.

For years, the city’s most influential syndicates had thrown mountains of cash and threats at his feet, yet not a single one had managed to pry the property from his grip.

?Nobody in their right mind would believe that the stubborn old bastard had suddenly signed away his most cherished asset to an unknown newcomer in a single conversation.

?The old fox had deliberately handed the news directly to Naomi and Karl. He knew Naomi was a corporate plant, and he knew Karl was feeding intelligence back to his real handlers. Raymond had purposely dangled the bait right in front of their faces so they would rush back to their masters like faithful hounds, stirring up the entire hornets’ nest.

?A slow, cold smirk pulled at the corner of Alex’s mouth.

"Let’s see what kind of plot you’ve set up, Mrs. Naomi," he murmured into the quiet car, his dark eyes gleaming with cold amusement. "I hope it’s at least entertaining."

Reaching forward, his finger pressed down on the ignition.

The engine roared to life with a low, menacing snarl. Alex shifted into gear, stomped on the accelerator, and let the coupe tear down the drive, tires biting into the asphalt as he sped toward the Central Corridor.

Across the wide boulevard, thirty floors up in a private staging suite overlooking the district, Naomi slowly lowered the phone from her ear.

Her hand remained tense around the glass screen. Even through the speaker, Alex’s low, velvety cadence had carried that same suffocating weight... a lazy, mocking familiarity that made the skin along her collarbone prickle with phantom heat.

She had spent the last ten minutes trying to build an impenetrable corporate wall around herself, and the man had dismantled it in three sentences.

Through the floor-to-ceiling glass of the suite, the imposing black-glass monolith of 14 Central Corridor loomed across the street like an unbreachable fortress.

"He took the bait?"

The voice came from across the room.

Karl stood up from a leather armchair. His tailored jacket hung open, revealing the tactical harness strapped tight against his chest. His jaw was clenched, his eyes narrowed with a restless, hostile energy that had been simmering ever since their humiliation at the club.

"He’s coming," Naomi said, forcing her voice to remain flat and steady as she turned away from the window. "He said he was already on his way."

"Very good." A vicious smile cracked Karl’s face.

He turned his back on the panoramic view of the tower across the street, facing the six silent figures standing near the rear doorway of the staging room.

Naomi’s eyes flickered across them, a cold knot tightening in her stomach. They were dressed in sterile, unmarked tactical gear, their faces completely obscured behind matte-black ballistic masks. They carried suppressed sidearms and heavy ceramic breachers, their postures dead-eyed and motionless.

Karl had brought them into this staging office before dawn. He hadn’t informed her, hadn’t cleared it through their usual mercenary channels, and hadn’t given her their names. They were a black-budget wet-work squad... men whose sole purpose was to leave no living witnesses.

"You heard the lady," Karl said, his tone dropping into a sharp, military snap. "Move into position. The moment Naomi meets him in the lobby and clears the biometric outer gate, breach the service loading docks from the blind alley. Take the service lift directly to the 48th floor and wait for my mark. This is our last chance to prove our competence to the family. I don’t want excuses, and I will not tolerate failure."

The six masked men offered no verbal reply. They simply gave identical, disciplined nods, vanishing through the suite’s private exit into the stairwell.

Once the heavy security door clicked shut behind them, Karl turned back toward Naomi, pacing across the polished floor with an agitated stride.

"Whatever you have to do," Karl said, stopping directly in front of her, his eyes cold and hollow. "You keep him inside that building until we’re set. Distract him. Stall him. Do whatever it takes."

Naomi looked up at him, understanding his unspoken meaning with brutal clarity.

Even if she had to get physical with him again.

In all their years of operating together under the legal cover of marriage, they had never crossed a line like this. There had always been clear boundaries. But her single lapse at the club had completely shattered that foundation, and ever since, Karl felt like an entirely different man.

The humiliation had twisted his pride into something bitter and reckless... turning him into someone willing to throw his own partner to another man if it meant securing the mission.

And she knew it was her own fault.

If she hadn’t lost control in that private cubicle... if she hadn’t let Alex dismantle her defenses and put his hands on her, those boundaries would still be intact.

Naomi gave a faint, imperceptible shake of her head. Remembering that night, it felt as though she had been possessed by a fever she couldn’t shake. Yet what unsettled her most wasn’t the shame.

Deep down, she didn’t feel a shred of guilt.

The only lingering thought... one that terrified her every time it crept into her mind... was a dark, shameful regret that they hadn’t gone all the way.

And now, she was supposed to walk that very man into an execution.

A sudden, sharp knot of panic tightened around her ribs, squeezing the air from her chest. The thought of Alex walking blindly into Karl’s kill team didn’t bring her satisfaction; it made her stomach churn with genuine dread.

Naomi turned away, walking back to the panoramic window to escape Karl’s cold gaze.

Her eyes fixed on the quiet, black-glass entrance of 14 Central Corridor across the street. Her expression was conflicted, her brow furrowing slightly as a sharp thread of unease coiled in her chest.

"Karl," she began quietly, her voice tinged with hesitation. "What if Raymond is testing us?"

Karl stopped pacing, glaring at her. "What are you talking about?"

"Think about it," Naomi said, turning back to him, her eyes sharp, analytical, but distinctly troubled. "Raymond Cole is one of the sharpest corporate minds in this district. If it was really that easy to persuade him to surrender 14 Central Corridor, one of the Three Families would have bought this tower five years ago. Why now? Why to an unaffiliated boy who appeared out of thin air?"

She took a step closer, lowering her voice.

"What if this entire transaction is a trap? What if Raymond already suspects we’re feeding intelligence to someone, and he dangled this boy as bait just to see if we would spring on him?"

"Whatever the reason is," Karl cut in, his voice cold, stubborn, and utterly dismissive, "it doesn’t change a damn thing. That boy dies today."

?He stepped closer, a vicious, reckless glint hardening in his eyes.

?"If Raymond thinks he’s testing us, then we’ll use this nobody’s corpse to send him our answer. A bloody reminder that our patience has run out... and that if the stubborn old bastard doesn’t yield, he’s next."

?He reached out, his fingers gripping Naomi’s shoulder just firmly enough to leave a bruise, forcing her to look him in the eye.

?"Get downstairs, Naomi. Put on your pretty smile, greet our guest, and walk him right into the crosshairs. Make sure he doesn’t leave until the floor is painted."

?Naomi held his gaze for a second, her throat dry, before giving a stiff, mechanical nod.