Our Secret Garden: A Rooftop Love — Part 6 | Romantic Thriller Series (The Chairman's Trap)

Setting: The luxury penthouse apartment. Two days into their three-day protection agreement with Sam. The opulent space feels smaller now, more suffocating. Priya stands by the floor-to-ceiling windows in her emerald silk dress, a glass of scotch in her hand, watching the city lights. Rohan sits at the dark wood table, his laptop open, surrounded by monitors showing data transfers in progress.

Transfer Progress: 40% Complete Time Remaining: 31 hours, 20 minutes

Priya: (Not turning from the window) "It's too slow. The transfer is crawling. At this rate, we'll be sitting ducks for another day and a half."

Rohan: (His eyes fixed on the cascading data) "The mesh network I built is secure, but distributed ledger transfers can't be rushed. Each verification layer takes time. If we accelerate it, we risk triggering algorithmic flags."

Priya: "And if we wait, we risk Zara figuring out where we are. Sam's men aren't soldiers—they're street enforcers. If The Chairman sends a real tactical team—"

Rohan: "Then we're dead either way. But at least this way, we finish the transfer. We get the money out. We build something new somewhere they can't touch us."

Priya: (Finally turning to face him, her eyes burning with that familiar, dangerous envy) "I don't want to 'build something new,' Rohan. I want what we took. I want to walk out of here with every dollar we stole and watch The Chairman's empire crumble in our rearview mirror. I want the victory."

Rohan: (Standing, crossing to her, his hands finding her waist) "We already won, Priya. We cracked three shell companies. We exposed vulnerabilities The Chairman didn't know existed. We hurt him. Now we just need to survive long enough to enjoy it."

Priya: (Leaning into him, her voice dropping to something intimate and fierce) "I'll enjoy it when we're on a beach in Seychelles, drinking champagne that costs more than most people make in a year. I'll enjoy it when I can walk into any room and know I earned the right to be there by taking it from someone who thought they were untouchable."

(They kiss—deep, possessive, fueled by the adrenaline of their situation. When they break apart, Rohan's phone buzzes. He glances at it.)

Rohan: "Sam's scheduled check-in. He wants confirmation we're still here, still protected."

Priya: "Tell him we are. And remind him that the second half of his payment processes the moment the transfer completes."

Setting: A sterile, dimly lit high-tech command center overlooking the city's industrial district. Wall-to-wall monitors display security feeds, financial networks, cellular triangulation maps. Zara stands before the main screen, her silhouette sharp and unforgiving in the cold blue glow. She's dressed in black tactical pants and a fitted gray shirt—professional, deadly.

Zara: (Eyes fixed on a glowing map showing the penthouse location highlighted in red) "The physical firewall Sam has provided is a blunt instrument. It protects their bodies, but it leaves their ambitions exposed. Rohan thinks he's hidden in the noise. He's forgotten that I know exactly what he craves."

Vikram: (Nervously) "The data transfer is at 40%. Based on their current rate, they won't move until it hits 100%. That's another 31 hours. Sam's men are disciplined enough to keep them contained for now."

Zara: "Too long. The Chairman wants them now. A direct breach would be messy—Sam's gang would resist, we'd lose men, and The Chairman wants Priya and Rohan intact for his personal attention. So we don't breach. We invite them out."

Vikram: "How?"

Zara: (A cold smile) "We give them exactly what their envy demands: a shortcut. A clean exit that's too perfect to resist. Can you create a false signal from their Cayman transit server?"

Vikram: (Already thinking through the technical requirements) "I've... I've localized the South Sector relay they're using. Their mesh network has seventeen nodes, but the primary authorization hub is routed through an offshore transit server in the Caymans. If I inject a 'ghost' signal—a false emergency communication from that server—I can make it look like the transfer can be completed immediately instead of waiting another 31 hours."

Zara: (She turns, her gaze pinning Vikram to the spot like a scalpel) "Make it perfect, Vikram. It must look like the one thing Priya cannot resist: a clean, immediate exit that bypasses The Chairman's reach entirely. Feed her the dream of a life where I don't exist. Where consequence is just a word for people who weren't smart enough."

Vikram: (Nodding frantically, already typing on his tablet) "I'll encrypt it with the old ghost-codes Rohan wrote when he was still working for The Chairman. Codes only the offshore administrators should know. He'll recognize them. He'll trust them."

Zara: "Good. And when they take the bait?"

Vikram: "They'll have to leave Sam's protection to access the secondary terminal. The biometric authorization can't be done remotely—it requires physical presence at a specific location for security verification."

Zara: "We'll route them to the private suite two floors below the penthouse. Suite 4217. Neutral territory. Away from Sam's men. That's where we take them."

Vikram: (His hands shaking) "You'll need a tactical team. I can set the digital trap, but the physical capture—"

Zara: "That's Jax's department. Once you've confirmed they've taken the bait, I'll coordinate with him. The Chairman has assigned him a full tactical force—twelve operators, fully armed. They'll be ready to move the moment Priya and Rohan step through that door."

Vikram: (His fingers hovering over the send button) "The signal is ready. Should I send it?"

Zara: (Her eyes cold, calculating) "Send it. And then prepare the secondary suite. I want cameras in every corner. The Chairman will want to watch this. I'll contact Jax now."

(Vikram's finger taps the screen. The ghost signal begins its journey through encrypted channels, disguised as salvation.)

(Zara pulls out her secure phone and dials.)

Zara: (Into phone) "Jax. It's time. The trap is set. Priya and Rohan are about to take the bait."

Setting: A tactical staging area three blocks from the target building. Jax stands in a reinforced vehicle bay, surrounded by twelve heavily armed operators in full tactical gear. They're checking weapons, reviewing floor plans, running final equipment checks. Jax's phone vibrates. He answers immediately.

Jax: "Zara. Talk to me."

Zara (Over Phone): "Vikram just sent the ghost signal. It's an emergency bypass offer from the Cayman server—tells them they can complete the transfer in 20 minutes instead of 31 hours. They'll take it. Their envy won't let them resist."

Jax: "And the extraction point?"

Zara: "Suite 4217. Two floors below where Sam's men are guarding the penthouse. Neutral territory. They'll have to walk through a public corridor to reach it—completely exposed."

Jax: (Looking at a digital building schematic on a tablet) "Suite 4217. I see it. Two entry points—main door and a connecting office door from the adjacent suite. We can stage Team Alpha in the adjacent suite, Team Bravo in the hallway. Pincer approach."

Zara: "Exactly. I want them alive, Jax. The Chairman has specific plans that require they be conscious and aware of what's happening to them."

Jax: "Understood. Stun weapons, restraints, minimal force. We'll have them packaged and ready for transport within five minutes of engagement."

Zara: "How long until you're in position?"

Jax: (Checking his watch) "We're three blocks out. Give me eight minutes to position both teams. Vikram's signal gives them a 20-minute window, so they'll move fast. I'll be ready."

Zara: "Good. I'm en route now. I want to be there when they realize what they've walked into. I want to see Priya's face when her envy turns to terror."

Jax: (A dark chuckle) "I'll save you a front-row seat. Jax out."

(He hangs up and turns to his team.)

Jax: (His voice carrying the weight of command) "Listen up! We have two high-value targets incoming to Suite 4217 in approximately fifteen minutes. Male and female, both armed and dangerous, but priority is live capture. The Chairman wants them intact. Team Alpha—you're with me. We breach from the connecting office. Team Bravo—you secure the hallway entrance. Suppressed weapons, flashbangs, stun rounds only unless they present lethal threat. Questions?"

(Silence. Twelve professionals understanding their assignment perfectly.)

Jax: "Move out. We have eight minutes to get into position. Let's make this clean."

Setting: The Golden Cage penthouse. The atmosphere is thick with the scent of expensive scotch and the low hum of Rohan's laptop cooling fans. Priya is pacing the length of the glass wall, her emerald dress shimmering with each agitated step.

Rohan: (Suddenly bolting upright, his eyes wide) "Priya. Something just hit the secondary relay. It's an Omega-Level priority ping from the Cayman transit server."

Priya: (Stopping mid-stride, her heart suddenly racing) "The Caymans? That was our final destination. The endpoint of the transfer. Why would they ping us now?"

Rohan: (Typing furiously, his hands flying across the keyboard, sweat beading on his forehead) "It's encrypted with the old ghost-codes I wrote for The Chairman years ago. Codes only the offshore administrators know. Codes I thought were buried with my old access."

Priya: (Moving closer, looking over his shoulder at the screen) "What does it say?"

Rohan: (Reading aloud, his voice tight with a mixture of hope and suspicion) "Urgent: Luxembourg shell flagged by Interpol financial crimes division. Asset freeze imminent within 90 minutes. Emergency bypass available through Cayman direct-authorization protocol. Biometric verification required at secure terminal. Authorization window: 20 minutes."

Priya: (Her breath catching) "Twenty minutes? If we take that bypass, we don't need to wait 31 more hours. We don't need Sam. We could finalize the transfer tonight and be on a private flight before Zara even realizes the noise has stopped."

Rohan: (Hesitating, his programmer's instinct screaming warnings) "It feels too clean, Priya. This is exactly what we'd want to receive. Perfect timing. Perfect solution. It feels like..."

Priya: "Like what?"

Rohan: "Like peace. And we don't get peace. People like us don't get clean exits."

Priya: (She leans down, her face inches from his, the intensity of the 'Envy Romance' clouding both their judgments) "Peace is what we bought with that betrayal, Rohan. We earned this. We took on The Chairman and we won. Now we're being offered the prize. Why would Zara waste time on elaborate tricks when she could just breach this building with a tactical team?"

Rohan: "Because maybe she knows we'd die fighting. Maybe she wants us alive."

Priya: (Her voice dropping to something fierce and desperate) "Or maybe Interpol really is about to freeze the Luxembourg accounts and this is our last chance to save everything we stole. Either way, if we don't take this shot and the money disappears, we have nothing. We're just two fugitives with no resources, no future, and a very motivated enemy."

Setting: The hallway outside Suite 4217. Rohan and Priya approach the heavy, polished wooden door marked with brass numbers: 4217. Through the frosted glass panel, they can see a silhouette—Kumar, a man in his thirties dressed in a professional suit, holding an official-looking tablet,  introduced himself as an compromised Luxembourg executives, but in reality he is implemented by Vikaram 

Kumar knocks from inside with a rhythmic, coded pattern—three short, two long—the offshore administrator's standard security greeting.

Kumar: (Whispering into his comm-link embedded in his collar) "They're at the door. Rohan is carrying his laptop. Priya is armed—small caliber handgun, right hip."

Zara (Over Comm): "Copy. Jax, you have green light the moment that door closes behind them."

Jax (Over Comm): "Acknowledged. Standing by."

(Outside the door, Priya and Rohan exchange one final look.)

Rohan: (Whispered) "Last chance to walk away."

Priya: (Her hand on the door handle) "We don't walk away from victory."

(She pushes the door open.)

Setting: Inside Suite 4217. It looks legitimate—a small business office with a desk, a secure terminal setup, leather chairs. Kumar stands behind the desk, looking appropriately nervous and professional. He's dressed in a suit, holding an official-looking tablet.

Kumar: (His voice trembling—partly act, partly genuine fear) "Mr. Rohan? Ms. Priya? Thank you for responding so quickly. The Interpol flag is moving faster than we anticipated. We need to execute the bypass authorization immediately."

Rohan: (His eyes scanning the room, his trained instincts picking up details) "Show me the Interpol notice. I want to verify the source code."

Kumar: (Pulling up a screen on the tablet—it's convincing, filled with official-looking data) "Here. As you can see, the Luxembourg Financial Crimes Unit initiated the freeze request forty minutes ago. The Cayman clearing house has a 20-minute window to execute emergency transfers before the freeze becomes permanent."

Priya: (Her hand still near her concealed weapon, but her eyes fixated on the promise of freedom) "And you can execute the full transfer? All of it?"

Kumar: "All of it. But I need both your biometric signatures. Mr. Rohan, if you'll place your hand on this scanner—"

(Rohan takes a step forward. Priya follows. They're both inside now, the door closed behind them.)

(But Rohan's programmer instincts are screaming. The terminal is powered on, but the interface is slightly wrong. The ventilation sounds off. And there's a faint smell of gun oil in the air.)

Rohan: (His hand stopping just before the scanner, his voice suddenly sharp) "Wait. Priya—"

(Too late.)

Jax (Over Comm): "BREACH! BREACH! BREACH!"

(The connecting door from Suite 4215 explodes open. Jax emerges first, followed by six tactical operators in full gear—body armor, helmets, suppressed weapons. Simultaneously, the main door bursts inward. Team Bravo floods in from the hallway—another six operators.

Twelve armed professionals. Two civilians with a single handgun.)

(Rohan looks at the screen. At the countdown timer that's already started: 18:47 remaining. At the promise of immediate freedom. At Priya's face—beautiful, desperate, alive with that dangerous hunger that made him fall for her in the first place.)

Rohan: "Where's the terminal?"

Priya: (A triumphant smile) "That's my Rohan."

Rohan: (Reading the coordinates) "Suite 4217. Two floors below us. It's one of the building's private business centers—neutral territory, not part of Sam's secured perimeter."

Priya: "How long will the authorization take?"

Rohan: "If it's legitimate? Five minutes. Biometric scan, dual-signature verification, then the bypass protocol completes the transfer automatically."

Priya: (Already moving toward the bedroom, stripping off the emerald dress and pulling on dark pants and a fitted black top—clothes for movement, for escape) "Then we go. Now. We tell Sam we're conducting business and we'll be back in ten minutes."

Rohan: (Closing his laptop, his hands shaking slightly) "And if it's a trap?"

Priya: (Pulling on boots, checking a small handgun Sam had provided for emergencies—she tucks it into her waistband) "Then we fight our way out. But Rohan—look at me."

(He does. Her eyes are blazing.)

Priya: "We didn't come this far to die scared. We came to take what we deserve. So we walk in there like we own the world, because for the next five minutes, we will."

Priya: (Drawing her weapon in a desperate motion) "GET BACK!"

Jax: (His voice amplified through his helmet speaker, utterly calm) "Drop the weapon, Priya. You're surrounded by twelve trained operators with instructions to keep you alive but not unharmed. Your choice: surrender now, or we make this painful."

Rohan: (Raising his hands slowly, his voice desperate) "Priya, don't. We can't win this. Please—"

Priya: (Her gun sweeping between Jax and the hallway team, her hand shaking with rage and fear, her voice breaking) "You set us up. The Cayman alert was fake. This whole thing—"

(From the hallway, Zara steps through the ring of operators, unarmed, utterly confident. She's changed into tactical gear, her hair pulled back, her expression one of cold triumph.)

Zara: "I gave you exactly what you wanted, Priya: a clean exit. The fact that it was too good to be true? That's your envy talking. You wanted to believe you deserved an easy escape. You wanted to believe the universe owed you peace. But people like us? We don't get peace. We get consequences."

Priya: (Her finger tightening on the trigger, tears of rage streaming down her face) "I'll shoot. I swear to God, I'll—"

(Zara doesn't even flinch. She nods once to an operator behind Priya.)

(A taser dart hits Priya in the back. 50,000 volts surge through her body. She convulses violently, the gun falling from her hand, and collapses to the floor, her body still twitching from the electrical shock.)

Rohan: (Lunging toward her) "PRIYA!"

(Three operators tackle him instantly, slamming him face-first into the floor. His laptop goes flying, skittering across the polished wood. His arms are wrenched behind his back, zip-ties cutting into his wrists.)

Rohan: (Screaming as they pin him down) "Don't you touch her! I'll kill you! I swear I'll—"

Jax: (Kneeling beside Rohan, his voice casual, almost bored) "You'll do nothing. Because you're a thief who got caught. And now you get to learn what The Chairman does to people who steal from him."

(Two operators lift Priya's unconscious body. Her head lolls to the side, blood trickling from where she bit her tongue during the convulsions. Her eyes are half-open but unfocused.)

Zara: (Standing over Rohan, her voice cold and surgical) "Vikram, confirm the laptop is secured. I want every file, every contact, every piece of intelligence they gathered."

Vikram: (Nervously retrieving Rohan's dropped laptop from the floor) "Secured, ma'am. I'll begin the data extraction immediately."

Zara: "Good. Jax, transport them separately. Rohan goes to Sub-Level 2, standard holding. Priya goes to Sub-Level 4—specialized containment. The Chairman wants her... accessible for his personal attention."

Rohan: (Still struggling against the three operators holding him down, his voice breaking) "What does that mean? What are you going to do to her? PRIYA! Wake up! PRIYA!"

Zara: (Crouching down so she's eye-level with Rohan, her face inches from his) "That depends on how entertaining The Chairman finds her screams. But don't worry—you'll get to listen. We're piping the audio from her cell directly into yours. You'll hear everything. Every question. Every answer. Every moment she breaks. And you'll be powerless to stop it."

Rohan: (His voice cracking into a sob) "You're monsters. All of you."

Zara: (Standing, brushing off her tactical pants as if this has all been terribly mundane) "No, Rohan. We're winners. There's a difference. Take them away."

(Jax's team moves with military efficiency. Priya is carried out on a stretcher, still unconscious. Rohan is dragged to his feet, his face pressed against the wall while they search him for weapons or tracking devices. His eyes never leave Priya's limp form.)

Jax: (To Zara, quietly) "Clean operation. No casualties, no complications. The Chairman will be pleased."

Zara: (A satisfied smile) "He will. And when he sees what we've captured... when he sees the intelligence on that laptop... we'll have dismantled their entire backup network by morning."

(The teams file out. Rohan is dragged down one corridor. Priya's stretcher disappears down another. And in Suite 4217, all that's left is the fake terminal, the scattered evidence of a trap perfectly sprung, and Vikram nervously packing up his equipment.)

Vikram: (To himself, his hands shaking) "It worked. It actually worked. Thank God it worked."

(But in his nervousness, he doesn't notice the small, barely visible LED blinking in the corner of the room—a camera he didn't install. A surveillance device that's been recording everything. A ghost watching from the shadows, learning the patterns, waiting for his moment.)