Chapter 9 - The Ghost of Vance
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Two hours later, I was inside the private ICU of St. Jude Medical Center in Manhattan—a hospital founded and fully owned by the Vance Trust.
A team of top trauma surgeons spent four hours repairing my ruptured spleen, setting my fractured ribs, and treating my internal injuries. Through it all, Sal remained standing outside my room like an iron sentinel.
When I finally woke from the anesthesia late that evening, the room was quiet, lit only by the soft blue glow of the heart monitors.
Sal stepped inside, carrying a crystal glass of water with a straw. He carefully held it for me while I took a few small sips.
"How are you feeling, child?" Sal asked gently.
"Like I was hit by a truck," I managed a weak smile. "Thank you, Uncle Sal."
"You don't need to thank me, Victoria," Sal said, sitting down in the leather chair beside my bed. "Your father saved my life when I was twenty-one years old. Everything I have today—my intelligence network, my fortune, my freedom—belongs to the Vance name."
He reached into his pocket and placed two objects on the bedside tray: my old burner phone and a gold flash drive.
"What's on the drive?" I asked.
"The complete financial paper trail," Sal explained. "Julian didn't act alone when he brought down Vance Enterprises. He was working with three major board members inside your father's company—men your father trusted like brothers."
My blood ran cold. "Who?"
"Marcus Sterling, Senator Richard Hayes, and Arthur Vance's own cousin, Charles Vance," Sal revealed, his voice darkening. "They created false offshore accounts, framed your brother Thomas for embezzlement, and then orchestrated the plane crash to cover their tracks."
I closed my eyes as tears finally spilled down my cheeks. My family hadn't just been killed; they had been betrayed by the people who ate at our dinner table every Christmas.
"Where are they now?" I asked, opening my eyes with a burning, icy resolve.
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"They think they won," Sal replied with a dark smile. "Tomorrow morning at nine o'clock, they are holding an emergency shareholder meeting at the Vance Tower in Manhattan to officially liquidate the remaining Vance assets and divide fifteen billion dollars among themselves."
"Then we have a meeting to attend," I said.
