Chapter 6 - THE COO'S INVASION
Adrian’s expression shifted instantly from warm relief back to razor-sharp military focus.
“Do not let him past the gate, Elena,” Adrian commanded softly, picking up his personal tablet from his chair’s side pouch.
“I’ll handle it personally,” I said, standing up. “Stay here with Eleanor.”
I took the estate's private golf cart and drove quickly down the long, winding driveway toward the heavy iron front gates.
Parked outside the security booth was a sleek silver Maybach. Standing by the driver’s side was Julian Vance—a tall, impeccably groomed man in his late forties wearing a three-piece Italian suit. He bore a striking physical resemblance to his brother Marcus, but where Marcus radiated quiet integrity, Julian exuded slick, aggressive arrogance.
Beside Julian stood two burly men in tactical black suits, looking more like mercenaries than corporate security.
The gate guard, a retired police officer named Hank, stood behind the bulletproof glass of the booth, his hand resting near his holster.
I stepped out of the cart and walked up to the iron bars. “Can I help you, Mr. Vance?”
Julian looked me up and down, his eyes lingering on my simple black coordinator suit. A dismissive, arrogant smirk touched his lips. “Ah. You must be the hotel maid Adrian hired to play house manager. Open the gate, girl. I am the Chief Operating Officer of Vale Aeronautics, and I have official business in Mr. Vale’s private study.”
“Mr. Vale is not receiving visitors today, Mr. Vance,” I said calmly, holding my ground behind the iron bars. “If you have corporate business, you can schedule a formal meeting through his executive secretary at headquarters.”
Julian’s smirk vanished, replaced by a dark, dangerous glare. He took one step closer to the gate, leaning his face against the iron bars.
“Listen to me very carefully, little girl,” Julian whispered, his voice laced with venomous authority. “Adrian is a crippled, mentally compromised man who is currently under federal investigation due to his ex-fiancée’s criminal activities. As COO, the board has authorized me to secure all personal servers and paper files residing on this estate to protect company stock.”
He produced a folded white paper from his breast pocket and slapped it against the glass of the booth.
“This is a corporate preservation order signed by four members of the board,” Julian declared. “Open this gate right now, or I will have my men cut the lock and have you arrested for obstructing a corporate investigation.”
I didn't look at the paper. I looked at Julian’s eyes—and saw the exact same desperate, predatory panic I had seen in Victoria’s eyes right before she raised her hand to strike Adrian.
Julian wasn't here to 'preserve' files. He was here to destroy evidence. He knew the federal audit was closing in on Victoria’s offshore transfers, and he desperately needed to wipe the private server located in Adrian’s study before Marcus Vance extracted the master access logs.
I pulled out my encrypted security controller, hit a single red button on the screen, and looked Julian dead in the eye.
“That paper isn't a judicial search warrant, Mr. Vance,” I said smoothly. “It’s a corporate memo. And this property is a private residence owned entirely by Adrian Vale’s personal trust, not Vale Aeronautics.”
Suddenly, the heavy metallic sound of armed security shutters lowered over the private study windows up at the main manor. Simultaneously, the loud, wailing siren of the Westchester County Sheriff’s Department echoed down the tree-lined avenue behind Julian’s Maybach.
Julian’s jaw dropped. He whipped his head around as two marked police cruisers pulled up behind his luxury car, their red and blue lights flashing against the trees.
“You called the police?!” Julian yelled, stepping back from the gate.
“I didn't just call the police, Mr. Vance,” I replied through the gate speaker. “I informed the Sheriff that three armed men were attempting an unauthorized home invasion on a private estate. I suggest you hand your corporate memo to the deputies.”
Julian’s face flushed bright red with pure, unadulterated rage. He glared at me through the iron bars, pointing a trembling finger at my chest.
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“You think you’re smart, don't you?” Julian hissed, backing toward his car as the deputies stepped out of their cruisers. “You’re a disposable servant, Elena. When Adrian’s company collapses next week, you’ll be back to scrubbing hotel toilets in Queens!”
“Maybe,” I called back calmly as the deputies approached him. “But today, you’re still standing outside the gate.”
