The Billionaire's Mistake (Anya and Daniel)

Chapter 165: The police set a trap

Anya didn’t put up even a token protest, merely inclining her head in acquiescence. Truth be told, the thought of reclining on one of the plush sofas in their mahogany–paneled sitting room held immense appeal right about now. Perhaps she could sneak in yet another restorative nap with Daniel’s soothing presence beside her…

She was just rising from her chair, intent on following her husband back inside, when her phone buzzed with an incoming text notification from Emma’s number. A frown etched her brow as she quickly scanned the message:

“Did you hear from the police? Martin woke up. Just got a call from the cops about him claiming Gina trying to off him. Would it be wrong if I laugh?”

Sucking in a sharp breath, Anya felt her lingering weariness dissipate as her mind was forced to confront the familial drama she’d tried to put from her mind. Of course Emma would be irate that she hadn’t been immediately looped in on the update regarding their stepmother’s apparent attempt on Martin’s life.

“Everything okay?” Daniel’s concerned voice broke through her distracted reverie.

“It’s…nothing, really,” Anya hedged, forcing a tight smile. “Just my sister overreacting to some nonsense with our stepmother, as usual. I’ll fill her in later once I have all the details straight.”

–

It wasn’t a total lie any situation involving Martin and Gina was usually rife with overblown hyst Daniels from someone. With a shake of her head, Anya tucked her phone away and reached to slip her arm through the crook of Daniel’s elbow.

“Come, my love,” she said, purposefully affecting a tone of nonchalance. “You’re right – a bit

f rest and relaxation is just what I need to recharge this afternoon.”

If Daniel suspected her abrupt subject change was avoidance, he gave no outward indication. Squeezing her hand in silent support, he turned and guided her back inside their sanctuary,

from the ghosts of family drama that still insisted on haunting her from afar.

away

Back at the hospital, a tense silence had descended over the makeshift command center the police had established. Detectives Carr and Ruiz pored over the case files one final time, ensuring every contingency had been meticulously planned for the operation ahead.

“All right, people, listen up,” Carr addressed the assembled team of officers. “We have strong reason to believe an assassin has been contracted to finish the job on Martin Jones while he’s still recovering here. The wife, Gina Jones, is our prime suspect behind the hit after the victim’s own testimony.”

He nodded towards his partner, who took over the briefing. “Our best intel suggests the attempt will be made sometime after shift change at midnight, when hospital staffing is

The police set

lowest. Our plan is to be lying in wait; we’ll have an officer portraying Jones in his original room, with the rest of our unit strategically positioned as harmless staffers and visitors.”

Ruiz‘

eyes swept the grim–faced officers with an assessing glance. “Our target is likely a professional, so we have to be on high alert. Chances are he’ll strike fast and try to disappear just as quickly. Our window to L.D. and apprehend him will be extremely narrow.”

Η

“Agreed,” Carr interjected. “So no one breaks cover until I give the go signal over comms, is that clear? We want this bastard trapped in that room with nowhere to run.”

A terse chorus of nods and murmured affirmations rippled through the team. Carr allowed himself a grim smile of satisfaction. He’d overseen enough of these high–stakes stings in his years on the force to know his officers were ready.

“All right, let’s get this circus on the road. I want everyone in position by 2300 hours sharp.”

The tense hours of waiting that followed seemed to drag by interminably. The staged hospital room had been carefully prepared, with one of the burlier plainclothes officers assuming the role of the unconscious Martin Jones tucked beneath the starchy linens. Several others had adopted roles as night staff – nurses, janitors, even a phlebotomist prepping to draw blood samples during regular rounds.

Carr himself had settled in a private waiting room just down the corridor from Jones’s room. Posing as a worried family member, he would be perfectly placed to make the bust once their mark inevitably took the bait. His eyes remained trained on his wristwatch as the minute hand Finally began to tick past the12:00 mark

‘Stay sharp, people,” he muttered under his breath, keying his comms unit. “We’re in the window.”

The wait that followed was utterly agonizing. Carr forced himself to control his breathing, to maintain his facade of a concerned relative whiling away the long hours of the night. He could only imagine

the tension gripping the officer laying in wait in the staged room, forced to stay completely still and passive even as their lives could become threatened at any moment.

Then, just as Carr was beginning to wonder if their intel had been compromised somehow, the faintest sound of footsteps reached his ears…footsteps that seemed to be growing nearer, rather than fading away down the corridor.

He fought not to react, not to tense up even as his hand strayed towards the concealed holster beneath his jacket. The footfalls continued advancing until they reached the door of Jones’s room… paused for the briefest of moments….and then continued inward with a nearly imperceptible creak.

Perfect silence reigned once more for what felt like an eternity. Then, an infinitesimal gesture from the officer playing Jones shifted the air current just enough to allow a whisper of sound to reach Carr’s ears – the unmistakable crinkle of fabric being disturbed. Their mark was making his move, just as they had anticipated.

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“Go! Go! Go!” Carr hissed into his comms, already surging to his feet and leading the charge

down the wards Jones’s room.

He burst through the doorway just in time to spot a dark–clad figure looming over the hospital bed, one hand clutching a standard–issue pillow that was descending towards the officer’s impassive face. Their would–be assassin hadn’t spotted them yet, so intent was he on smothering his victim with the pillow and slipping away unseen.

“Metropolitan Police! Don’t move!” Carr barked out, his service weapon sweeping up to cover the assailant even as the room flooded with the forms of his officers storming in to surround

them.

The pillow dropped from the man’s hands as he spun towards them, eyes wide in the dim lighting. Rather than raise his hands in surrender, however, his body tensed incrementally tell–tale sign he was preparing to fight or flee.

“Don’t even think about it,” Carr warned him in a tone of lethal promise. “We’ve got you surrounded and comered. Any move to resist and my people will light you up like the Fourth of July, understand?”

For a long, tense moment, Carr was certain they would have to subdue the man by force. He sized up could practically see the calculations whirring behind those wild eyes as their suspect his chances against them. Then, finally, the man seemed to think better of it, raising his hands in mute surrender.

“Cuff him and get him to holding,” Carr instructed two of his officers, allowing himself to exhale the breath he’d been holding. “We’ll transfer him to interrogation once we’ve processed him into the system.”

As the man was efficiently secured, Carr stepped forward to inspect him more closely. He wore simple black clothes designed to blend into shadows, though nothing about his general appearance immediately proclaimed ‘hired killer. Still, the fact that he’d been caught red- handed in the act of attempted murder spoke for itself.

“Just who are you working for, tough guy?” Carr growled, leaning in threateningly. “Start talking now and maybe we can cut you a deal before the DA gets their hands on you for conspiracy to commit murder.”