Chapter 7 - The Vance EstateThe old Vance estate had been abandoned for eighteen years.
We arrived just after sunset.
The gates were rusted.
The trees had swallowed the driveway.
The house itself looked dead.
Victor stood beside me.
“This is where it began.”
“For you?”
“For all of us.”
We entered through the front door.
Dust covered everything.
Photographs lined the staircase.
I stopped.
One picture showed my mother.
Young.
Happy.
Pregnant.
Beside her stood my father.
And beside him…
Arthur.
I stared.
“They knew each other.”
Victor nodded.
“They worked together.”
My stomach tightened.
“My whole childhood was built on lies.”
“Yes.”
A floorboard creaked.
Victor raised his weapon.
Nothing.
Then a voice came from upstairs.
“Dad?”
Julian.
Victor motioned for the team to move.
We climbed the stairs.
At the end of the hall, Arthur sat tied to a chair.
His face was bruised.
He looked at me.
“Lena.”
I stopped.
For the first time, he looked like an ordinary man.
Not a judge.
Not a king.
Just an exhausted criminal.
“What happened?”
Arthur laughed bitterly.
“Your grandfather happened.”
“Where is Julian?”
“He's gone.”
Victor stepped forward.
“Where?”
Arthur stared at him.
“You're still protecting her.”
“Answer me.”
“I don't know.”
Arthur looked at me.
“You need to leave.”
I almost laughed.
“Now you're worried about me?”
“I never wanted this.”
“You beat me fifty times.”
He looked away.
“I was trying to frighten you.”
“You could have killed me.”
“I know.”
His voice cracked.
Then I noticed something.
He was crying.
Arthur Sterling.
The man who had ordered fifty strikes.
Crying.
“Why?” I asked.
He looked at me.
“Because Edmund ordered it.”
Victor froze.
“What?”
Arthur nodded.
“Everything I've done was under his direction.”
“You chose to obey.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Arthur looked at the floor.
“Because when I refused…”
He stopped.
“They killed someone.”
“Who?”
Arthur whispered:
“My daughter.”
The room fell silent.
I looked at Victor.
Arthur continued.
“Edmund has been controlling me for years.”
Victor's eyes hardened.
“You had a choice.”
Arthur shook his head.
“Not after I saw what he did to her.”
I stepped closer.
“Then help me.”
Arthur looked at me.
“I can.”
“How?”
He nodded toward the wall.
“Behind that painting.”
Victor removed it.
A metal safe appeared.
Inside was a small black drive.
Arthur whispered:
“The Black Ledger.”
Victor stared.
“All of it?”
“All of it.”
I reached for it.
Arthur grabbed my wrist.
“Don't.”
I froze.
“Why?”
“Because once you open it, everyone comes for you.”
Victor took the drive.
“We already have everyone coming.”
He plugged it into a secure computer.
Files appeared.
Hundreds.
Thousands.
Payments.
Murder orders.
Blackmail.
Names.
Then I saw one folder.
PROJECT LENA.
Victor clicked it.
Inside was my birth certificate.
My medical records.
Photographs.
And a document labeled:
ORIGIN OF SUCCESSOR.
He opened it.
The first line read:
Lena Vance was selected before birth.
I stared.
Selected?
For what?
Victor kept reading.
His face slowly changed.
“Dad?”
He couldn't speak.
“What does it say?”
He finally whispered:
“You weren't born into the trust.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“You were created for it.”
The lights went out.
Arthur screamed.
A gunshot echoed.
Then another.
Someone had entered the house.
Victor shoved me behind him.
“Stay down!”
Footsteps approached.
Slow.
Calm.
Deliberate.
Then Edmund stepped into the doorway.
He smiled at me.
“Hello, granddaughter.”
May you like
And behind him stood Julian.
Holding a gun.
