Chapter 11 - The Black Velvet Box
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The wedding reception was everything Mara had ever dreamed of—a sprawling tent on the beach, illuminated by thousands of fairy lights that mirrored the starry sky above. The ocean breeze carried the scent of salt and expensive champagne. Our four boys, Milo, Mason, Max, and Micah, had already shed their formal suit jackets and were chasing each other around the edge of the dance floor, their laughter blending perfectly with the jazz band’s smooth melody.
For the first time in years, my shoulders dropped. The crushing weight of the corporate espionage, the lies, and the constant looking over my shoulder had finally evaporated. I watched my beautiful wife, Mara, twirling on the dance floor with her father, Richard. Her ivory dress spun around her like a halo. She caught my eye and beamed, mouthing the words, I love you.
"I love you too," I whispered to myself, taking a sip of my scotch.
"Excuse me, Mr. Vance."
I turned to see one of the catering staff standing behind me. He was young, his uniform pristine, but there was a nervous twitch in his jaw. He held a small, black velvet box on a silver tray.
"What's this?" I asked, my instincts instantly flaring up.
"A gift, sir," the waiter replied, keeping his eyes on the floor. "A gentleman at the perimeter gates asked me to deliver it to you directly. He said it was a late wedding present for the quadruplets."
I set my drink down. The peace I had felt just moments ago vanished, replaced by a cold, familiar dread. "What did this man look like?"
"Tall. Wearing a dark overcoat. He had a scar through his left eyebrow, sir."
My blood ran like ice water. Victor. He was supposed to be dead. He was supposed to be buried under the rubble of the Vienna warehouse three years ago.
I took the velvet box, my fingers trembling slightly. "Tell my security team to lock down the gates. Nobody leaves. Nobody enters."
"Yes, sir," the waiter stammered, hurrying away.
May you like
I turned my back to the dance floor, shielding the box from Mara's view. I flipped the latch and opened it. Inside, resting on a bed of dark silk, were four small, silver chess pieces—four pawns. And tucked beneath them was a handwritten note on thick parchment.
Beautiful family, Julian. It would be a tragedy if they had to pay for your sins. See you soon.
