Chapter 5 - The Trap is SetBy late afternoon, the legal strategy was locked in place.
Victor and Maya had successfully petitioned a federal magistrate judge to issue an emergency sealed search warrant for St. Catherine’s administrative servers and Nathan’s private office safe, backed by federal marshals to prevent any tampering or data wiping.
However, Victor warned me of the political minefield.
"St. Catherine’s board of trustees is stacked with some of the most influential political donors in Massachusetts," Victor cautioned me across his desk. "If Nathan gets wind of this warrant before the marshals execute it tonight, he and Vanessa will scrub the physical hard drives, burn the paper files, and skip the country before sunrise. We need to keep him distracted. We need him anchored in one place."
I looked down at my phone. It sat on the polished wood, silent.
"He thinks I went home terrified after that text message in the parking garage," I said slowly. "He thinks I'm sitting in the kitchen, scared into silence."
"What are you thinking, Elena?" Victor asked, reading the determined expression on my face.
"I'm going to invite him home for dinner," I said quietly.
Victor stared at me in disbelief. "Elena, are you insane? You want to invite the man who is running an illegal human testing ring and threatening your safety into your house for a quiet evening of domestic bliss?"
"Not domestic bliss," I corrected, a cold, sharp resolve settling into my chest. "I'm going to invite him home to talk about 'saving our marriage.' I'll tell him I found the file, I'm scared, I want to understand, and I want us to run away together. That will give him a false sense of security, keep him out of the hospital server room, and lock him in our house until the federal marshals kick his office door down at 8:00 PM."
Victor weighed the risk for a long moment, then slowly nodded. "It’s dangerous. But it’s brilliant. If you keep him talking at the dining room table until the warrant is executed, he won't have a chance to warn his accomplices."
"Let's do it," I said.
I picked up my phone, drew a steady breath, and dialed Nathan's direct line.
It rang twice before he picked up. His breathing sounded ragged, hurried. "Elena? Look, I'm in the middle of an emergency board review—"
"Nathan, stop," I interrupted, letting a convincing tremor of fear and vulnerability creep into my voice. "I went home. I saw the text message. I'm terrified."
There was a long pause on the other end of the line. When Nathan spoke, his voice softened, adopting that practiced, soothing bedside manner he used when manipulating patients. "I told you, sweetheart, you shouldn't have been looking in my desk. Are you alright?"
"I don't know," I lied, my voice cracking slightly. "I'm confused, Nathan. I love you, but I don't know what's happening. Can... can you come home early tonight? Just for an hour. Let's order dinner, sit down, and talk. Just you and me. No secrets."
Another pause. I could almost hear the frantic calculations spinning inside his head: Is she a threat? Or is she just scared and manageable?
"Alright, Elena," Nathan finally agreed, his tone warming with calculated relief. "I'll clear my evening schedule and be home by 6:30 PM. We'll talk. I promise everything will make sense."
"I'll have dinner waiting," I said.
May you like
I hung up the phone, my hands steady as stone.
The trap was set. All I had to do was play my part for two hours and watch his magnificent empire crumble to dust.
