Chapter 19 - Whispers Across the Glass
|
Four years after the Vance empire fell, life had settled into a beautiful, peaceful rhythm. Clara had purchased her own small house three streets away from mine—a charming cottage with a large backyard where Rose spent her afternoons playing on a swing set.
I was sitting on my front porch one chilly October evening, sipping hot tea and watching the autumn leaves drift down from the maple trees, when a sleek black sedan pulled up to the curb.
My instincts instantly flared. My hand dropped toward my handbag where I kept my phone.
The driver’s side door opened, and a man in an expensive charcoal suit stepped out. He wasn't Everett, nor was he Warren. He was older, with slicked-back silver hair and an aura of cold, calculating authority that instantly made the air feel thin.
He walked up the wooden steps of my porch, stopping at the top railing.
“Mrs. Marian Cole?” the man asked, his voice low and smooth as silk.
“Who is asking?” I replied, my tone completely devoid of emotion.
The man pulled a heavy, embossed business card from his breast pocket and laid it gently on the small table beside my tea cup. The gold lettering read: Vance Global Holdings - Senior Legal Counsel.
“I represent the executive board of the Vance family’s international estate,” the attorney said smoothly. “Mr. Everett Vance’s legal team has filed an emergency petition for an appellate judicial review. Furthermore, certain... foreign assets tied to your daughter’s late father have recently resurfaced in Swiss accounts.”
I stared at the card, then looked up into the lawyer’s cold, lifeless eyes.
May you like
“The case is closed,” I said firmly. “Everett is in prison.”
The attorney offered a faint, sinister smile. “Prisons have doors, Mrs. Cole. And money can buy keyholders. We simply thought you should know that the Vance family never leaves an account unsettled.”
