Chapter 4 - Shadows and Assets
The next morning, my penthouse transformed into a war room. Victor arrived at 6 AM. He was an independent auditor and a former intelligence officer. He specialized in finding money that didn't want to be found.
“You understand what you’re asking for?” Victor said, drinking black coffee as he hooked his encrypted laptop to my monitors. “If I dig into Eleanor Vance’s shadow accounts, bells will ring. If she catches us, we’re dead in the water. Maybe literally.”
“I’m the CFO of Vance Enterprises,” I reminded him. “I have the master keys to the legal accounts. We just need to find the bridge to the illegal ones.”
Lena stayed in the back rooms with Grace, keeping away from the windows. I had ordered groceries, baby supplies, and clothes to be delivered through a secure courier. Every time Grace laughed, a sound so innocent and pure, it fueled my anger.
For three days, we barely slept. I maintained my schedule. I went to the office. I sat in meetings with my mother, nodding at her strategies, reviewing quarterly reports, smiling like the perfect heir. Every night, I returned to the penthouse and dismantled her empire piece by piece.
“Got something,” Victor announced on Thursday night. He pointed to a string of transactions routed through a shell company in the Cayman Islands. “Blackwood Holdings. It’s not on the company books.”
I leaned over his shoulder. “Look at the dates, Victor.”
He cross-referenced the ledger. “A wire transfer of five million dollars exactly one week before Lena’s 'accident'.”
“To whom?”
Victor typed furiously. Lines of code reflected in his glasses. “A private security contractor. Sterling Logistics. Run by former mercenaries.”
“The men in Montana,” I said, my blood running cold.
“There’s more,” Victor said softly. “Monthly payments. Hush money. To a Dr. Aris Thorne. And to a police captain named Miller.”
I had the list. The doctor who faked the records. The cop who signed off on the crash. The mercenaries who guarded my family.
“Print it all,” I ordered. “Every receipt. Every email. Every signature.”
May you like
I walked into the bedroom. Lena was reading a story to Grace. She looked up, seeing the grim determination on my face. “Did you find it?” she asked.
“I found the knife she used to stab us in the back,” I said. “Now, it’s time to twist it.”
