Infiltrated His Manor, I Trapped the Mafia Don

Chapter 4: The Countdown

The glowing amber of Don’s cigarette burned like a warning beacon in the dark.

I was kneeling on the floor, the heavy black ledger still clutched in my trembling hands, the safe door wide open. There was no hiding it. I was caught.

My BAU training calculated a dozen different survival tactics in a microsecond, discarding them all just as fast. Combat? He was twice my size and armed. Running? I wouldn't make it to the door.

So, I fell back on the only weapon I had left: Lina.

I let the ledger slip from my fingers. It hit the floor with a heavy thud. A choked, terrified sob tore from my throat as I scrambled backward, hitting the side of the oak desk. I pulled my knees to my chest, burying my face in my hands, my whole body shaking violently.

"I-I'm sorry," I gasped, the tears coming fast and real, fueled by pure, unadulterated adrenaline. "I'm so sorry, please don't hurt me."

Don didn't move. The silence stretched, thick and suffocating. Finally, I heard the soft tap of his shoes on the Persian carpet. He stopped right in front of me. The smell of tobacco and bergamot surrounded me, heavy with impending violence.

"You opened my safe," he said, his voice terrifyingly calm. "You watched me input the code, and you came here in the middle of the night to open my safe."

"I was going to run," I sobbed, my voice muffled against my knees. I looked up at him, my eyes wide and bloodshot, my expression one of pure, broken panic. "I needed money. I just wanted to take some cash and disappear."

He stared down at me, his face an impenetrable mask of stone. "Run? From me?"

"From her!" I cried out, the desperation cracking my voice. "From Carmen! She came to my room today while you were out. She... she told me I was a liability. That she was going to get rid of me. I was terrified, Don! I didn't want to die, so I thought if I just took some money and left..."

I let the sentence hang, dropping my head back onto my knees, crying uncontrollably. It was a calculated risk. Carmen hated me, and Don knew it. It was the only believable excuse for a terrified stray to try and rob the East Coast's most dangerous Mafia boss.

For a long, agonizing moment, the only sound in the room was my ragged breathing.

Then, he sighed. It was a heavy, exhausted sound.

He crouched down, his large frame blocking out the moonlight. He reached out, his fingers surprisingly gentle as they caught my chin, forcing me to look at him. His dark eyes searched mine, looking for the lie. I met his gaze, pouring every ounce of my fear and desperation into my expression.

"Carmen will not touch you," he said softly, his thumb brushing away a tear on my cheek. "No one in this house will touch you. You are under my protection, Lina. Do you understand?"

"I-I'm sorry about the safe," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I was just so scared."

Don glanced at the black ledger lying on the floor. He picked it up, tossing it casually onto the desk. He didn't even check to see if I had taken anything. He believed me.

The guilt hit me so hard I felt physically sick.

"Don't ever lie to me again," he murmured, his voice laced with a dark, possessive edge. He pulled me up from the floor, wrapping his arms around my shaking frame. I buried my face in his chest, feeling the steady, calming beat of his heart.

I am a monster, I thought, closing my eyes tightly as he held me. I am the monster in this room, not him.

The next morning, the estate was buzzing with frantic energy. The Family was hosting their annual winter gala—a massive, opulent event where the heads of the five families gathered under a banner of temporary truce.

It was the perfect distraction.

While the maids were busy preparing my dress for the evening, I locked myself in the master bathroom. I turned on the shower, letting the steam fill the room, and pulled a compact makeup mirror from my vanity bag.

With shaking hands, I pried off the mirror's backing, revealing the hidden micro-transmitter. I connected it to the encrypted drive hidden in my lipstick tube.

Last night, when Don had held me after the safe incident, his jacket had brushed against my arm. While I was crying into his chest, my fingers had expertly slipped the encrypted micro-USB drive from his inner pocket—the true backup of the Salvatore empire's digital footprint. I had swapped it with a dummy drive from my own pocket.

It had taken every ounce of my willpower to remain calm.

I plugged the drive into the transmitter and hit the activation switch. A tiny blue light blinked rapidly.

Uploading... 10%... 40%... 80%... 100%.

Data received. Extraction team moving into position. ETA: 2000 hours.

The encrypted message flashed across the tiny screen before self-deleting.

I stared at the blinking blue light. The transmission was complete. The evidence was in BAU's hands. The Salvatore Family was dead. Don was dead.

I leaned over the marble sink, gripping the edges so hard my knuckles turned white. A wave of intense nausea washed over me. I gasped for air, the steam suddenly suffocating. I had done my job. I had taken down the most dangerous criminal organization on the East Coast.

So why did it feel like my world was ending?

"Lina?"

Don's voice echoed through the bedroom door. "Are you almost ready? The guests are arriving."

I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing the tears back. I took a deep, shuddering breath, locking Agent Erin away and pulling the mask of Lina back into place.

"Almost done!" I called back, my voice light and sweet.

I quickly dismantled the transmitter, flushing the pieces down the toilet. I stepped out of the bathroom, wearing the breathtaking, floor-length crimson gown Don had chosen for me.

He was standing by the window, adjusting the cuffs of his tailored black tuxedo. He looked impossibly handsome, dangerous, and powerful. When he turned and saw me, his eyes darkened, a flash of pure heat and possession crossing his features.

He walked toward me, his gaze sweeping over the dress. "You look beautiful," he murmured, taking my hand and pressing a soft kiss to my knuckles.

"Thank you," I whispered, forcing a smile.

I glanced at the vintage grandfather clock in the corner of the room. 7:55 PM.

The FBI tactical teams would be breaching the perimeter in exactly five minutes.

"Ready?" Don asked, his thumb gently stroking the back of my hand. He looked at me with such raw, unguarded affection that it felt like a knife twisting in my chest.

"Yes," I lied, my voice barely a whisper.

He offered me his arm, completely unaware that he was holding the hand of his executioner. The deafening bass of the ballroom music drifted up from downstairs.

But beneath the music, I could hear the faint, ominous hum of helicopters approaching in the distance.

The countdown had begun.