Chapter 9 - The Boardroom Ambush
The blast blew out the remaining windows of the manor, showering the lawn in a rain of blackened slate and burning insulation.
Ethan had thrown himself over Lily, absorbing the rain of debris with his back. When the shockwave subsided, the sky above Vance Manor was thick with black, oily smoke, blotting out the stars.
""They’re burning the physical evidence,"" Ethan coughed, rising from the dirt and lifting Lily back onto his hip. The child buried her nose into his chest, trembling violently as the heat from the inferno washed over them. ""Sterling knew the digital wipe wouldn't hold up in court if the paper ledgers in the archive survived.""
""Then we're finished,"" Marcus groaned, clutching his ribs as he stared at the roaring flames. ""Without the legal deed or our digital identities, we can’t even enter the Vance Tower lobby. The security systems will flag us as trespassers. The morning market opens in ninety minutes. Sterling will convene the emergency board meeting, present our 'accidental deaths' in the fire, and liquidate the company before lunch!""
Ethan looked at Lily. The little girl’s face was smeared with ash, her pink dress ruined, but her hazel eyes burned with the unyielding steel of her ancestors. She reached into her tiny pocket and pulled out a small, heavy silver key attached to a braided leather cord—an object she had kept concealed beneath her dress.
""Mommy said this opens the metal box beneath the gargoyle in the old city subway,"" Lily said clearly, her voice cutting through the roar of the fire. ""She said the bad lawyer thought he stole everything, but Mommy took the brass book before they pushed the car into the river.""
Ethan stared at the silver key. His breath caught in his throat.
""The subway archive,"" Ethan whispered. ""My father’s private off-grid vault beneath City Hall Station. Sterling never knew it existed.""
He turned to Marcus, his voice snapping with military authority. ""Get the helicopter ready. We aren't fighting Sterling in the courtroom. We’re going straight to the 50th-floor boardroom in Manhattan.""
""Ethan, you have a bullet wound, no legal standing, and fifty armed private guards waiting at Vance Tower!"" Marcus protested.
""Then they had better shoot to kill,"" Ethan replied, his voice chilling the air around them. ""Because if I walk into that room alive, Arthur Sterling will learn what happens when you steal from an orphan.""
Forty minutes later, the Vance corporate helicopter banked hard over the Hudson River, the sunrise painting the skyline in violent hues of crimson and gold. Vance Tower loomed ahead like an obsidian spear thrust into the dawn sky.
On the 50th floor, through the panoramic floor-to-ceiling glass, thirty board members sat in tense silence. At the head of the long marble table stood Arthur Sterling, pristine in a bespoke three-piece charcoal suit, adjusting his silk tie as he opened a black folder.
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""Gentlemen,"" Sterling announced smoothly, glancing at his platinum watch. ""It is with profound grief that I must report the tragic passing of Ethan Vance and the total collapse of the North Vance line in an estate fire early this morning. Pursuant to Section 12 of the corporate charter, I now assume full sovereign control—""
The massive double oak doors of the boardroom shattered inward off their hinges with an explosive crash.
