Chapter 3 - Locked Doors and Hidden Truths
Within ten minutes, the grand courtyard was cleared of guests. The nervous socialites were ushered into the velvet-draped ballroom under the guise of an "unexpected security protocol," while heavy iron gates sealed the estate’s perimeter, locking the property down like a high-security prison.
Nora stood near the edge of the fountain, her arm wrapped tightly around Eli, who was shivering in his wet clothes. Victor Vance and four armed guards surrounded them in a tight circle, their hands resting ominously on their sidearms.
"You should have stayed in London, Miss Vale," Victor said, his rough voice carrying a trace of genuine pity. "Your father’s death was settled. The police closed the file."
"My father didn't die of a sudden heart attack, Victor," Nora said, glaring at the scarred man. "He was fifty-two years old, an athlete, and had no underlying conditions. He died three days after changing his primary will to leave seventy percent of Vale Logistics to Eli and me."
Victor didn't deny it. He simply adjusted his tactical vest. "Paperwork doesn't matter when you're dead, kid."
Celeste stepped out from the mansion’s side entrance, having smoothed her hair and replaced her rage with a cold, calculating composure. She held a crystal glass of fresh scotch in her hand, taking a slow sip as she approached them.
"Take the boy inside," Celeste instructed two of the guards. "Put him back in the attic room and lock the door."
"NO!" Eli screamed, thrashing against Nora’s grip. "Nora, don't let them take me back there! It's dark! There are bugs!"
Nora’s heart shattered at her brother's words. The attic. Celeste had been locking a five-year-old child in an unheated attic while living in a fifty-million-dollar mansion.
Nora dropped to her knees, looking Eli directly in his tear-filled eyes, grabbing both of his small shoulders. "Eli, listen to me. Look at my eyes."
The little boy stopped kicking, his chest heaving as he looked into his sister's determined gaze.
"I am not leaving this house without you," Nora promised, her voice unwavering. "Do you hear me? Count to a hundred in your head. By the time you reach a hundred, I will be coming up those stairs to get you. Trust me."
Eli swallowed hard, wiping his wet nose with his sleeve. "One... two..." he began whispering, his small voice trembling as the guard gently picked him up and carried him toward the rear service doors.
Nora stood up, turning to face Celeste. "If you hurt a single hair on his head, Celeste, the encryption key on my father’s offshore server will auto-publish to every federal prosecutor in the country at midnight."
Celeste paused, setting her scotch glass down on a marble pillar. The air between them grew dangerously thin.
"You're very clever, Nora," Celeste admitted, taking a step closer until she was inches from Nora's face. "Just like Arthur. He thought he could outsmart me, too. He thought he could use my family's money to build his shipping company and then push me out when he realized what I was doing behind closed doors."
"He realized you were using Vale Logistics to launder money for international trafficking networks," Nora countered, keeping her voice low so the guards couldn't hear every detail.
Celeste smiled—a slow, terrifying smile. "He found out. And look where it got him. A quiet injection during his evening tea, a closed casket, and a very generous life insurance payout to his grieving widow."
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Nora’s blood ran cold. Hearing Celeste casually confess to her father’s murder confirmed her worst nightmares.
"And now," Celeste continued, leaning in to whisper in Nora's ear, "you walked right into my cage. Do you really think you're leaving this mansion alive, Nora? At midnight, when my servers receive your little auto-publish script, you'll already be at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean, tied to the anchor of your father’s favorite yacht."
