Chapter 3 - The Trap ClosesNia’s hands trembled over her keyboard as the red text confirmed her worst fears: Kwan Woo was the mole. He wasn't just stealing money from the Hanule Syndicate; he was setting up a quiet coup, funneling millions to a rival Russian syndicate operating out of Brighton Beach—the Volkov family—in exchange for a hit contract on Kang Min Jae.
She looked through the glass door toward Min Jae’s office, but he had already left for Newark with his tactical security team.
Nia knew she couldn't trust Director Lim, nor could she trust any of the armed guards in the building—half of them were directly under Kwan Woo’s command. If she made a single wrong move, she would vanish into a concrete pillar at a construction site before the sun came up.
She quickly saved the decrypted ledgers onto an encrypted USB drive, slipped it into her coat pocket, and packed her bag.
As she stepped out of her private office into the main penthouse corridor, the lights on the floor suddenly flickered and died, plunging the sleek marble space into dim, red emergency lighting.
The elevators chimed—a low, foreboding sound.
The doors slid open, and Kwan Woo stepped out, accompanied by four heavily armed men in black tactical gear. None of them looked like Hanule Syndicate guards; their heavy, bearded faces and tattooed necks bore the unmistakable marks of the Volkov Russian mob.
"Miss Brooks," Kwan Woo sneered, stepping forward as his men fanned out, cutting off every exit. "Working late again?"
Nia backed away slowly toward the glass railing overlooking the building’s grand atrium. "Kwan Woo. Mr. Kang went to Newark because of your fake tip."
Kwan Woo chuckled, a dry, hollow sound. "Min Jae is smart, but he’s become weak. He’s spent weeks obsessing over a little accountant from Detroit instead of watching his own backyard. The Volkovs are waiting for him in Newark. He won't be returning to Manhattan."
Nia’s chest tightened in pure panic. "He’ll kill you when he realizes—"
"He won't realize anything," Kwan Woo interrupted coldly. "By tomorrow morning, Min Jae will be dead, the Volkovs will control the shipping lanes, and I will take the Chairman’s seat. As for you... you found the Vipera accounts, didn't you?"
Nia didn't answer, her fingers tightening around the USB drive in her coat.
"Give me the drive, Miss Brooks," Kwan Woo commanded, extending his hand. "And maybe I’ll make your death quick."
"I don't think so," Nia said, her voice laced with sudden, fierce defiance.
She grabbed a heavy brass sculpture from a display pedestal beside her and threw it with all her strength straight through the floor-to-ceiling glass panel of her private office.
The glass shattered into a thousand glittering pieces, the alarm system screaming loudly as strobe lights began to flash red.
Taking advantage of the chaos, Nia bolted down the service stairwell door, her heels slamming against the concrete steps as she raced down fifty-five flights of stairs into the dark streets of New York.
Outside, the rain was blinding.
Nia burst out of the emergency exit into a alleyway off 55th Street, her lungs burning, her clothes soaked within seconds. Behind her, she heard the heavy thud of tactical boots splashing through the puddles as Kwan Woo’s hit squad pursued her into the night.
She pulled out her phone, her fingers slick with rain, and dialed Min Jae’s private satellite number.
It rang once. Twice.
"Nia?" Min Jae’s voice cut through the static, filled with immediate alarm. "Where are you? What’s happening?"
"Min Jae! It's a trap!" Nia screamed into the phone, dodging down a dark alley toward Lexington Avenue. "The Newark tip was a setup! Kwan Woo is working with the Volkovs! He sent a hit squad to Newark to ambushed you, and his men are chasing me right now!"
On the other end of the line, a heavy explosion rocked the audio, followed by the distant sound of automatic gunfire.
"Nia! Listen to me!" Min Jae’s voice roared over the chaos, cold and terrifyingly focused. "Get to the pier at 42nd Street! My private boat is docked at Slip 14! Tell the captain the password Black Crimson! Do not trust anyone else! I am coming for you!"
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The line went dead.
Nia shoved her phone into her pocket and kept running, her heart pounding like a drum as headlights flickered at the end of the alley. A dark SUV screeched around the corner, blocking her path as three armed men stepped out into the rain, raising their weapons directly at her.
