Chapter 6 - The Ledger Beneath the FloorBeatrice had never been inside the old Wilkes estate.
She had seen it from newspaper photographs.
Huge gates.
Stone walls.
Private gardens.
The place looked less like a home than a declaration of ownership.
Dante studied the property maps.
“There are three entrances.”
“Which one do we use?”
“None.”
Beatrice frowned.
“We go under it.”
He pointed to an old service tunnel.
Constructed in 1957.
Originally used for coal deliveries.
Abandoned decades ago.
They entered through a drainage access two hundred yards away.
The tunnel smelled of damp stone.
Beatrice held the fake notebook against her chest.
Dante walked ahead.
“You're too quiet.”
“I’m thinking.”
“Dangerous.”
She almost smiled.
Then heard footsteps.
They stopped.
Nothing.
Dante raised a hand.
Every light went out.
A voice echoed through the tunnel.
“Beatrice.”
She recognized it.
Charles.
“Mr. Wilkes wants to speak with you.”
Dante stepped into darkness.
“You're outnumbered.”
Charles laughed.
“That's what you think.”
Lights exploded on.
Men appeared on both sides of the tunnel.
Weapons drawn.
Dante moved instantly.
The tunnel became chaos.
Beatrice dropped behind a stone pillar.
Gunfire shattered the air.
Then silence.
She looked up.
Dante stood over one unconscious attacker.
Charles was gone.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
Dante looked toward the estate.
“Then keep moving.”
They reached a hidden cellar entrance.
Inside was a room filled with old ledgers.
Boxes.
Photographs.
Bank records.
Beatrice's breath caught.
“This is the archive.”
Dante nodded.
She opened a ledger.
The first page listed political donations.
The next contained property transfers.
Then accounts.
Then names.
She found hers.
GALLAGHER, BEATRICE.
Her hands shook.
Beside her name:
ASSET CLASSIFICATION: HEIR
She stared.
“Heir to what?”
Dante opened another ledger.
There it was.
A trust.
Created twenty-nine years ago.
Named:
The Gallagher-Wilkes Foundation.
Beneficiary:
Beatrice Gallagher.
Trust value:
$87 million.
She nearly laughed.
“This is a joke.”
Dante shook his head.
“No.”
“You're telling me I'm worth eighty-seven million dollars?”
“No.”
He turned the page.
“You're worth much more.”
Beatrice stared.
The total hidden assets exceeded $300 million.
But the real shock was underneath.
A clause.
If Thomas Wilkes died without publicly acknowledging his biological daughter, ownership of several Wilkes holdings would transfer automatically.
To Beatrice.
She stared at Dante.
“That's why they want me.”
“Not just because you know about the fraud.”
“They need me.”
“Yes.”
“And they need me alive.”
Dante nodded.
“Which means Maggie and my mother are leverage.”
Beatrice closed the book.
“Then why threaten to kill them?”
“Because leverage only works if the target believes the threat.”
She looked at him.
“Who is behind this?”
Dante reached for another ledger.
He opened to a page marked with 1739.
Beatrice leaned closer.
The number wasn't a code.
It was a room.
1739.
A private vault beneath the Wilkes estate.
“There's a vault under the house.”
“Yes.”
“And the key?”
Dante pulled out the black hotel keycard from Chapter 2.
“Already have it.”
They descended another staircase.
At the end stood a steel door.
No handle.
Only a scanner.
Dante inserted the keycard.
Nothing.
Beatrice noticed a fingerprint plate.
“Whose fingerprint?”
Dante looked at her.
“Yours.”
She hesitated.
Then placed her finger against the glass.
The door opened.
Inside was a single table.
On it sat a wooden box.
And beside it, a note.
Beatrice opened the box.
Inside was a photograph.
Her mother.
Thomas Wilkes.
Michael Gallagher.
And a newborn baby.
Beatrice stared at the baby.
Then at the date.
She felt the blood drain from her face.
The photograph wasn't from Maggie's birth.
It was from hers.
She whispered:
“That's impossible.”
Dante picked up the note.
He read it aloud.
“Two daughters.”
Beatrice looked at him.
“What?”
He handed her the paper.
Written underneath were six words:
May you like
One was supposed to die.
Then the vault door slammed shut behind them.
