Chapter 18 - Ghosts of the Past|
I slumped onto a nearby wooden crate, the paper fluttering in my hand as ice settled into my veins.
The syndicate. Richard’s old enemies weren't gone. They were waiting.
Before I could digest the horrifying truth, the heavy chime of the front doorbell echoed from the floor above, shattering the silence of the mansion.
Panic seized my chest. I frantically stuffed the letter and the leather binder back inside the wall safe, locked it, and pulled the wooden paneling back into place before racing up the stairs.
By the time I reached the grand foyer, Emily was already holding Lily in her arms, reaching out to open the heavy front door.
“Emily, stop! Don't open it!” I screamed from the stairs.
It was too late. The front door swung open.
Standing on the porch was not a delivery driver or a neighbor. It was a tall, sharp-looking man in a tailored black suit, carrying a silver-topped walking stick. His face was weathered, and his eyes were as yellow and cold as a viper’s. Flanking him on either side were two massive men with broad shoulders and hands tucked inside their suit jackets.
“Good afternoon, ladies,” the man smiled smoothly, tipping his black fedora with chilling politeness. “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Silas. I am an old, dear associate of the late Mr. Richard Vance.”
Emily instinctively took three steps back, clutching Lily protectively against her chest. “Who are you? This is private property!”
“Ah, forgive my sudden intrusion,” Silas chuckled softly, stepping past the threshold into our foyer as if he owned the estate. “The Vale family turned out to be spectacularly incompetent fools. They completely bungled what should have been a very simple asset recovery operation.”
May you like
I scrambled down the remaining steps, placing myself directly between Silas and my daughter.
“My husband died years ago, and we owe your people nothing,” I snarled. “Get out of my house before I press the panic button and summon federal marshals.”
