Chapter 3 - The Art of the Trap
By Wednesday afternoon, Dante Baek returned to the penthouse. He looked polished, smelling faintly of expensive cedar and high-end cologne, playing the role of the devoted husband caught up in corporate emergencies. He walked into the living room where Nyla sat reading an exhibition catalog, offering a practiced, apologetic smile.
"Nyla, my love," Dante said, spreading his hands. "I am so endlessly sorry about our wedding night. The port authority in Incheon threw a crisis at us that required my personal intervention. Can you ever forgive me?"
Nyla did not look up immediately. She turned the page of her catalog, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make him slightly uncomfortable. Then, she raised her eyes, meeting his gaze with a terrifying, serene neutrality.
"Of course, Dante," she said softly. " Emergencies happen. You’ve always been a man burdened by heavy responsibilities."
Dante relaxed visibly, entirely convinced that his charm and his carefully constructed lies had bypassed any suspicion. "You're wonderful. To make it up to you, I’ve arranged a private dinner tonight in Insadong. Just the two of us."
"I would love that," Nyla replied smoothly. "In fact, why don't we celebrate properly? I’ve been reviewing our corporate alignment portfolios, as your legal team suggested I should familiarize myself with our assets. I noticed some fascinating anomalies in the Aegis Art Holdings accounts."
Dante’s posture stiffened instantly. The charming mask slipped for a fraction of a second, his eyes flashing with sudden, cold alertness. "What did you say?"
"Aegis Art Holdings," Nyla repeated, her voice musical and completely devoid of threat. "Millions are moving through there into private accounts in Zurich. Naturally, as your legal partner and wife, I signed off on the restructuring documents yesterday morning to ensure our tax compliance is airtight. We wouldn't want the international regulators asking uncomfortable questions, would we?"
Dante stared at her, his mind racing, trying to calculate how much she knew, how much she understood, and above all, how she had accessed files that required dual-key biometric authorization.
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"Nyla... what have you done?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave into a low, menacing growl.
"I’ve secured our future, darling," she said, standing up and smoothing the front of her cashmere dress. "See you at dinner. Don't be late this time."
