The Viper Stepmother’s Mafia Justice Chapter 17
The Mole Hunt
Mia gave me the trail. And I followed it the only way I knew how follow the money.
Isabella had paid the night guard. Cameras went dark every Tuesday.
A maid left side doors unlocked. A driver carried envelopes to the Strip.
All three were escorted off the property before sunrise.
No severance. No references. No second chances.
That night, Dominic called me into the study. He locked the door. Drew the curtains.
On his desk lay two things. Mia’s tiny phone. And a surveillance still from the hallway camera.
The still showed Isabella at 2 a.m. Pressed against the garden wall. Phone to her ear.
No audio. But the number matched. The same encrypted number in Mia’s photos.
Dominic pulled up the call log.
“Fourteen calls in three weeks,” he said. “All to the same number. All routed through a burner tower on Thorne’s side of the city.”
He set down a third photo. A warehouse south of the Strip. Thorne’s cargo trucks outside.
“She’s been feeding him everything,” Dominic said. “Our guard rotations. Camera blind spots. The children’s schedules.”
I looked at the evidence spread across the desk. Every piece clicked into place.
Isabella never came back for the children. She came back for Vincent Thorne.
A Trojan horse. Sent to smile, cry, and bleed into our home. To crack us from the inside.
“She’s not a mother,” I said. “She’s a weapon.”
Dominic looked at me. “What do you want to do?”
I picked up Mia’s phone. Studied the number one more time.
“We don’t kill her. We use her. If Thorne thinks his spy is still working, we control what he sees.”
Dominic’s mouth curved. Just barely. “What does he see?”
“Exactly what I want him to see.”
A soft knock hit the study door.
Leo stood outside, holding a recorder.
He walked in, set the device on Dominic’s desk, and pressed play.
Isabella’s voice filled the room. Clear. Calm. Nothing like the sobbing woman upstairs.
“The boy is useless. He belongs to that woman.”
A man’s voice answered. Low. Muffled. But steady. “Then use the girl. He needs results.”
“The girl still wants a mother. Give me time.”
The recording ran for four more minutes. Drop points. Cameras. Guard rotations. Every detail matched Mia’s photos.
Dominic’s hand pressed flat against the desk.
“Where did you get this?” he asked.
“The side wing,” Leo said. “Her window doesn’t lock from the outside.”
“You should have told me.”
“I’m telling you now.”
Then Leo looked at me.
“Blood couldn’t save my life. But you did.”
Two short sentences. They hit harder than any bullet.
I held his gaze. Nodded once.
“Go check on Mia,” I said. “Take Bullet.”
Leo turned and walked out. His footsteps faded down the hall.
Dominic looked at me across the desk.
“Are you okay?”
“Fine.”
I wasn’t fine. I stood in that study, jaw locked, hands steady, every inch the Donna. Two children had chosen me. Not blood. Me.
I pressed my palm against the desk. Then I picked up the recorder.
“Now we have everything,” I said. “Time to set the trap.”
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