Chapter 17 - The Masterful Trap
The bright,
warm,
and incredibly cheerful morning sun illuminated the grand,
sprawling library of the massive,
luxurious Vance estate.
I sat comfortably,
elegantly behind a massive,
antique oak desk,
wearing a sharp,
immaculately tailored navy blue designer suit.
My sleek,
expensive digital tablet was currently,
rapidly displaying a highly complex,
intricate web of encrypted,
confidential financial data.
My brilliant,
loyal,
and incredibly highly paid chief of global security,
a tall,
intimidating former military intelligence officer named Thomas,
stood respectfully,
quietly at strict,
perfect attention.
"Miss Vance,"
Thomas began smoothly,
calmly,
his deep,
authoritative voice echoing softly,
clearly in the large,
silent library.
"Our advanced,
highly sophisticated digital surveillance algorithms have successfully,
quietly intercepted a massive,
highly suspicious series of encrypted,
untraceable communications."
I looked up slowly,
calmly from my bright,
glowing screen,
my bright,
piercing blue eyes locking directly,
intensely onto his serious,
unsmiling face.
"Who is foolishly,
arrogantly attempting to quietly,
secretly target our massive,
impenetrable family empire today,
Thomas?"
I asked smoothly,
coldly,
feeling absolutely,
completely no fear,
panic,
or girlish,
weak anxiety.
"It is Marcus Thorne,
Ma'am,"
Thomas replied efficiently,
handing me a thick,
heavy,
and incredibly detailed physical dossier filled completely,
entirely with stolen,
confidential photographs and sensitive,
private data.
"He has apparently,
secretly hired a highly skilled,
dangerous mercenary team to quietly,
forcefully breach this estate and kidnap you directly,
violently from your private,
secure quarters."
I let out a soft,
low,
and incredibly cold laugh,
flipping slowly,
deliberately through the thick,
heavy pages of the detailed,
comprehensive security report.
"He is completely,
utterly predictable,
boring,
and entirely,
pathetically unoriginal,"
I noted smoothly,
closing the heavy,
leather-bound dossier with a sharp,
final click.
Eleanor walked gracefully,
elegantly into the massive,
sunlit library,
holding a small,
delicate cup of hot,
expensive herbal tea.
"I assume we are completely,
fully prepared to completely,
absolutely crush this pathetic,
insignificant insect,
Clara?"
my mother asked warmly,
proudly,
sitting down comfortably,
elegantly in a plush,
velvet armchair.
"We are going to do much,
much more than simply,
quietly crush him,
Mom,"
I replied sharply,
brilliantly,
a fierce,
ruthless smile spreading slowly,
dangerously across my calm,
beautiful face.
"We are going to completely,
secretly leave the massive,
iron gates completely,
purposely unlocked tonight."
Thomas did not flinch,
gasp,
or question my seemingly,
incredibly dangerous and highly,
terribly risky command.
"I want his highly paid,
arrogant mercenary team to easily,
quietly walk right into the very center of our massive,
sprawling estate,"
I instructed coldly,
ruthlessly.
"And once they are completely,
hopelessly trapped inside the grand,
main foyer,
we will suddenly,
violently drop the massive,
reinforced steel security doors,
locking them completely,
permanently inside a highly secure,
inescapable titanium vault."
Eleanor smiled brightly,
triumphantly,
taking a slow,
elegant sip of her hot,
fragrant tea.
"And what about Mr. Thorne himself,
my brilliant,
ruthless daughter?"
she asked softly,
curiously.
"Oh,
I am going to personally,
directly pay a highly unexpected,
unwelcome visit to his sleek,
expensive penthouse suite while his team is completely,
miserably failing,"
I answered smoothly,
confidently.
I was absolutely,
completely ready to firmly,
permanently establish my fierce,
unquestionable dominance over the entire,
May you like
sprawling corporate underworld,
once and for all.
