Chapter 7 - The Face in the Courtyard
Marcus felt as though the floor beneath him had opened into an abyss. The woman standing on the gravel driveway below was the spitting image of his deceased wife. Her chestnut hair was shorter, cropped practically around a sharp jawline, and her gaze held none of Clarissa's warmth, but the high cheekbones and hazel eyes were unmistakable.
""Vivienne,"" Marcus whispered, the name tasting like ash on his tongue.
The woman didn't linger. She tossed the red ledger into the open window of the SUV, slid into the passenger seat, and slammed the door. The high-performance vehicle spun its tires, spraying limestone gravel against the stone balustrade as it rocketed down the winding estate driveway toward the breached front gates.
Marcus turned back to the room. ""Elena, take Leo to the panic room in the sub-basement. Code 9-4-4. Do not open it for local authorities until my personal attorney arrives.""
Elena nodded firmly, scooping the trembling boy into her arms. ""Be careful, Marcus. Please.""
Marcus dashed back down the central hallway, his mind racing. The pieces of the past twenty-four months were rearranging into a horrifying tapestry. Clarissa hadn't fallen from the balcony due to a faulty railing or a sudden dispute. She had discovered an infiltration within the Vance family empire—an infiltration led by the sister everyone believed was dead, aided from the inside by Marcus's new wife, Victoria.
Reaching the ground floor, Marcus found Victoria kneeling by the shattered entrance, desperately trying to pick up the scattered papers from her fallen purse.
Marcus caught her by the arm, hoisting her to her feet with brutal efficiency. ""Vivienne is alive.""
Victoria froze. Her face turned an unnatural shade of chalk white. All the haughty defiance she had carried moments before evaporated, leaving only sheer, unadulterated terror.
""She... she promised she wouldn't come to the house,"" Victoria stammered, her voice shaking violently. ""She said she only wanted the ledger codes. She said she was going to disappear!""
""Who hired Julian?"" Marcus demanded, tightening his grip on her wrist. ""Talk, Victoria, before I leave you here for the clean-up crew!""
Victoria swallowed hard, her eyes darting toward the open door. ""Julian doesn't work for Vivienne. He works for the Trust. Clarissa's family trust. They know you survived the crash, Marcus.""
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Marcus frowned. ""What crash?""
Before Victoria could answer, the mansion’s primary landline, an analog connection untouched by the power cut, began to ring with an abrasive, piercing chime.
