My husband bru:tally b:eat me for three straight hours. I honestly thought I was going to die... But right in that moment, hovering on the thin line between life and death, I knew exactly who I had to contact: someone I hadn't wanted to see again for almost thirty years...

After David left, I sat alone in my dimly lit study, staring at the wax-sealed envelope resting on my desk. The rain beat a rhythmic tempo against the tall glass windows.

I picked up an ivory letter opener and carefully sliced the envelope open.

Inside were two items: a folded sheet of heavy yellow parchment paper and a small, rusted iron key.

I unfolded the paper. The handwriting was unmistakable—it belonged to my father, Arthur Vance. But the date written at the top made my heart freeze in my chest.

August 14th, three years ago.

That was the exact date my parents and brother had died in the plane crash.

My dearest Victoria, the letter read.

If you are reading this note, it means I have failed to protect you from the shadows that surround our family. By the time this reaches your hands, Thomas, your mother, and I will be gone. Do not mourn us, my brave girl. Everything we did was to ensure your survival.

Tears welled in my eyes as I traced my father's handwriting with my fingertips.

Julian Kensington was never meant to be your husband. He was a trojan horse, a pawn placed in your life by forces much larger and far more dangerous than Vance Enterprises. We allowed him to think he was deceiving us so that we could buy time to hide our true legacy.

The green jade pendant I gave you on your eighteenth birthday was not just a symbol. It is the key to the vault beneath the old chapel in Vermont.

Use the iron key inside this letter to open the second door. Inside, you will find the truth about the Vance bloodline—and the real reason our plane was targeted.