Chapter 5 - Shadows at the Door
The sun rose over the manicured lawns of the Vance Estate, casting long golden shadows across the stone driveways.
Inside the grand study, Arthur Vance—a silver-haired man of fifty-five dressed in an immaculate Italian suit—sat in a leather armchair, nursing a cup of black coffee. He had arrived unannounced, using his master director's key card to enter the property.
"Eleanor, darling," Arthur said smoothy as Eleanor walked into the room. "I heard about the spectacle at the gala last night. The press is going wild with rumors about some dirty street urchin interrupting your dinner."
Eleanor walked behind her large mahogany desk, her expression completely unreadable. "It was nothing, Arthur. Just a confused child looking for help."
Arthur’s eyes narrowed slightly. He set his coffee cup down, his gaze drifting toward the small glass table near the fireplace. There, sitting atop a stack of high-end magazines, was a brightly colored plastic toy dinosaur—a toy that clearly belonged to a child.
"Are you sure, Eleanor?" Arthur asked, a faint, condescending smile gracing his lips. "Because I’ve noticed your security detail has tripled since last night. Marcus Cole has armed guards posted on the perimeter fences. One might think you're hiding someone in the medical wing."
Eleanor leaned back in her chair, steepling her fingers. "I am simply taking precautions, Arthur. A woman of my net worth cannot be too careful."
"Of course," Arthur chuckled, standing up and buttoning his suit jacket. "By the way, the annual board vote is this Friday. The directors are eager to finalize the trust restructuring. Since you never produced an heir, the board intends to transfer the voting control to my division."
"The deadline for blood heir verification isn't until midnight on Thursday, Arthur," Eleanor noted coolly.
"A technicality," Arthur smirked, stepping toward the door. "We both know there are no ghosts coming back from the dead, Eleanor. Don't exhaust yourself chasing miracles that don't exist."
The moment the oak door closed behind Arthur, Marcus stepped out from behind the velvet drapes.
"He knows," Marcus said flatly. "He saw the child's toy. He knows Rose is in this house."
"He's desperate," Eleanor replied, her eyes burning with icy rage. "Thursday night is his absolute deadline. If he doesn't eliminate Rose and Maya before the board meets on Friday morning, he faces total financial ruin and a federal indictment."
"He won't wait for a legal challenge, ma'am," Marcus warned. "Arthur hired the Blackwell Mercenary Group to hunt Rose in Ohio. They are professional killers. They will strike this house before the sun comes up on Thursday."
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Eleanor looked out the floor-to-ceiling window at the clear blue sky.
"Let them come," Eleanor declared softly. "This estate was built like a fortress. And this time, I am not losing my family."
