Chapter 7 - Khloe Walked Into the Enemy’s Trap—But Victor Wasn’t the One Who Saved HerMateo Reyes inserted the flash drive into a laptop.
Khloe watched the screen.
Her pulse beat against the transmitter taped beneath her dress.
Victor would be listening.
Javier would be tracking.
Every second mattered.
Reyes opened the first folder.
Financial reports.
Real.
Khloe had made them convincing.
“You copied our records.”
“I audited them.”
“You stole them.”
“You tried to murder me.”
Reyes smiled.
“In my profession, those are different categories.”
“In mine, they’re expenses.”
He laughed.
Khloe hated that she understood why men followed him.
Mateo Reyes was not loud.
He did not need to be.
Power sat comfortably on him.
Like Victor.
The difference was restraint.
Victor’s restraint came from rules.
Reyes had none.
He clicked another file.
The hidden beacon activated.
Three blocks away, Javier saw the signal.
“We’re live.”
Victor looked at the map.
“Location confirmed?”
“Internal network handshake. Yes.”
Victor checked his watch.
“Two minutes.”
Inside, Reyes closed the laptop.
Khloe’s stomach tightened.
Too fast.
He had not opened the tagged ledger.
Not enough data had transferred.
Reyes approached.
“Do you know why accountants are dangerous?”
Khloe said nothing.
“Because men like Victor believe guns create power.”
“He doesn’t.”
Reyes paused.
“You know him well after two days?”
“Better than you.”
Reyes smiled.
“Interesting.”
He circled her.
“Victor Rossi has killed thirty-seven men personally.”
Khloe’s face remained still.
“Probably more.”
“He inherited blood.”
“So did you.”
Reyes stopped.
For the first time, something cold entered his expression.
Khloe had touched something.
Good.
“Your father built your network,” she continued.
“I researched you.”
“You had limited time.”
“I work fast.”
“Apparently.”
“Your father controlled routes through Monterrey. Your uncle expanded north. You took over after both died within eighteen months.”
Reyes stared.
Khloe continued.
“You call yourself self-made.”
His smile disappeared.
“But the numbers disagree.”
“Careful.”
“There it is.”
“What?”
“Ego.”
Khloe smiled.
“Always the easiest liability to find.”
Reyes struck her.
Hard.
Khloe hit the floor.
Pain exploded across her cheek.
Her ears rang.
Victor heard the impact through the transmitter.
He stood.
“Move.”
Javier blocked him.
“Thirty seconds.”
“Move.”
“We go early, his aunt dies.”
Victor grabbed Javier’s vest.
“He touched her.”
Javier did not flinch.
“And if you lose control, he kills her.”
Victor’s face was inches from his.
Javier lowered his voice.
“Trust Khloe.”
Victor released him.
Inside, Khloe pushed herself upright.
Blood filled her mouth.
Reyes crouched.
“You mistake my patience for weakness.”
“No.”
Khloe spat blood onto the floor.
“I was testing your emotional controls.”
He stared.
“You failed.”
Reyes laughed once.
Then grabbed her hair.
Khloe refused to cry out.
“You think Victor loves you?”
She looked at him.
“I think that bothers you.”
His grip tightened.
“Men like Victor do not love.”
“You keep saying his name.”
Reyes froze.
Khloe smiled through the pain.
“You’re obsessed with him.”
His expression changed.
There.
Another wound.
She kept digging.
“You brought weapons into his city because you wanted money?”
Khloe shook her head.
“No.”
“You wanted recognition.”
Reyes stood.
“You wanted Victor Rossi to notice you.”
“Shut up.”
“You wanted him afraid.”
“Shut up.”
“He wasn’t.”
Reyes drew a pistol.
Khloe’s heart stopped.
Victor heard the weapon clear leather.
“Go.”
This time Javier did not argue.
The assault began.
Power died.
The room went black.
Gunfire erupted outside.
Reyes grabbed Khloe.
His arm locked around her throat.
The pistol pressed against her temple.
Emergency lights activated.
Victor’s aunt screamed.
Doors exploded inward.
Reyes dragged Khloe toward a rear corridor.
“Tell Rossi to stop!”
Khloe could barely breathe.
“Victor!”
Her transmitter carried the word.
Victor stopped outside the room.
Reyes shouted.
“One more step and she dies!”
Silence.
Khloe heard Victor.
“Mateo.”
Calm.
Too calm.
“You wanted my attention.”
Reyes tightened his grip.
“You have it.”
Khloe understood what Victor was doing.
Keeping Reyes talking.
Buying time.
But for whom?
Then she saw Victor’s aunt.
The older woman had somehow freed one hand.
A small piece of broken chair leg lay beside her.
She looked at Khloe.
Khloe looked back.
The woman moved.
She drove the wood into Reyes’s knee.
He screamed.
His grip loosened.
Khloe dropped.
The pistol fired.
The bullet struck the ceiling.
Victor entered.
Everything happened in less than two seconds.
Victor fired.
Reyes twisted.
The bullet struck his shoulder.
Javier hit him from the side.
The pistol slid away.
Khloe crawled toward Victor’s aunt.
“Are you hurt?”
The woman stared at her.
“You’re the accountant?”
Khloe blinked.
“Yes.”
“You’re smaller than Luca said.”
Gunfire continued outside.
Khloe almost laughed.
Victor reached them.
He dropped to his knees.
His hands went to Khloe’s face.
“Look at me.”
“I’m okay.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“He hit me.”
Victor looked toward Reyes.
The expression on his face frightened Khloe more than the gunfire.
She grabbed his wrist.
“No.”
Victor looked at her.
“Don’t.”
“He hit you.”
“And if you kill him now, you lose everything he knows.”
Victor breathed.
Once.
Twice.
Then control returned.
Javier hauled Reyes upright.
Victor’s aunt touched his arm.
“Vittorio.”
Victor froze.
Nobody called him that.
The older woman slapped him.
Khloe’s mouth fell open.
Javier looked away.
Victor stared at his aunt.
“You took too long.”
“Aunt Rosa—”
“I was tied to a chair for fourteen hours.”
“I came as soon as—”
“Fourteen.”
She slapped his arm again.
Then pulled him into a hug.
Victor stood completely still.
Khloe saw his face over Rosa’s shoulder.
Something inside him broke.
He closed his eyes.
Held her.
Khloe looked away.
Some moments deserved privacy even in a room full of guns.
Then Rosa released him.
Her attention shifted to Khloe.
She walked over.
Khloe prepared herself.
Rosa hugged her.
“You came for me.”
Khloe slowly returned the embrace.
“Yes.”
“You’re either brave or stupid.”
“Victor says both.”
Rosa smiled.
“Good.”
Then she whispered:
“He needs someone who tells him no.”
Khloe looked toward Victor.
“I’ve noticed.”
Mateo Reyes survived.
That was intentional.
Victor had him transported to a private medical facility beneath armed guard.
The stolen ledger was recovered.
More importantly, Khloe’s trap worked.
Reyes had opened enough files to expose remote access to three servers.
By sunrise, Khloe had identified twenty-seven shell companies.
Six banks.
Nine warehouses.
Two customs officials.
And one Chicago police commander.
The Reyes network was not merely criminal.
It had grown into institutions.
Khloe sat at Victor’s kitchen island with ice pressed against her bruised cheek.
Victor entered.
He looked exhausted.
“You should sleep.”
“So should you.”
“I don’t sleep.”
“Very mysterious.”
Victor took the ice from her.
He held it gently against her cheek.
Khloe studied him.
“Your aunt slapped you.”
“Never mention it.”
“I’m going to mention it constantly.”
“Khloe.”
“Vittorio.”
His eyes narrowed.
She smiled.
Then winced.
Victor’s expression softened.
“I should have stopped you.”
“No.”
“I should never have let you walk inside.”
“I chose to.”
“That doesn’t make it easier.”
“It shouldn’t.”
Victor lowered the ice.
Khloe touched his chest.
“You keep thinking love means preventing anything bad from ever happening to someone.”
Victor became still.
She had said it.
Love.
There was no retreat now.
“That isn’t love,” she continued.
“What is?”
“Respecting them enough to let them choose.”
Victor looked down at her.
“And if their choice gets them killed?”
“Then you tell them the truth.”
“Which is?”
“That you’re terrified.”
He almost smiled.
“I don’t get terrified.”
“Liar.”
Silence.
Then Victor said:
“I was terrified.”
Khloe’s chest tightened.
He looked at her bruised face.
“When I heard him hit you.”
His voice became rough.
“I wanted to burn the building down with everyone inside.”
“But you didn’t.”
“You told me not to.”
“And you listened.”
“Barely.”
Khloe smiled.
“Progress.”
Victor put the ice aside.
He touched her cheek with the backs of his fingers.
“I love you.”
No speech.
No dramatic preparation.
Four words.
Khloe stopped breathing.
Victor looked almost annoyed by his own confession.
“As inconvenient as that is.”
She laughed.
Then cried.
Then laughed again.
Victor looked alarmed.
“Why are you crying?”
“Because you said you love me like you were admitting tax fraud.”
“I don’t admit tax fraud.”
“Of course you don’t.”
He kissed her forehead.
Khloe closed her eyes.
“I love you too.”
Victor’s arms tightened around her.
For the first time since the Beaumont Hotel, Khloe felt something she had believed was gone forever.
Home.
Not the apartment.
Not furniture.
Not possessions.
A person.
A place where fear could exist without controlling her.
But across the city, in a hospital room guarded by Victor’s men, Mateo Reyes opened his eyes.
A nurse noticed.
She reached for the call button.
Reyes whispered:
“Wait.”
The nurse froze.
He smiled weakly.
“You work for Rossi?”
She hesitated.
Wrong answer.
Reyes knew.
He closed his eyes.
Because Khloe Bennett believed she had found the network.
Victor believed he had captured the man controlling it.
Neither understood the truth.
May you like
Mateo Reyes had never been the highest person on the ladder.
And the person above him already knew exactly where Khloe slept.
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