Chapter 4 - The Severed Lines
Day seven of the thirty days began with the collapse of Leander Vance’s private communications.
It was not a brute-force cyberattack, but an elegant, slow bleeding of information. Sensitive internal memos detailing offshore tax shelters and suppressed industrial safety reports began arriving on the desks of federal prosecutors in three different cantons. Each document was signed with an internal routing code that only three people in the company possessed.
Leander stood in the center of his boardroom as his executive team sat paralyzed around him.
“Who authorized the release of the Geneva warehouse audit?” Leander demanded, his voice dangerously even.
“The... the digital signature belongs to your private terminal, Mr. Vance,” his legal counsel stammered, adjusting his glasses with sweating fingers. “And the accompanying personal notes... they mention your late wife’s family trust. Things only someone within your private household could access.”
Leander felt a cold dread settle behind his ribs. Mara had not merely stolen his son; she had spent the last two years inside his residence cataloging his sins. Every night she had poured his tea, every morning she had organized his study, she had been mapping the fault lines of his life.
“Find her,” Leander commanded, sweeping a row of crystal glasses off the sideboard. They shattered violently against the marble floor, spraying shards across the pristine rug. “Burn the forests down if you have to. Bring my son back!”
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“And the woman, sir?” Keller asked from the shadows by the door. “What do we do if she resists?”
Leander looked down at his own clenched hands, the skin stretched taut over white knuckles. “Bring them both. I want them to watch every stone of their lives ground to dust.”
