Chapter 11 - Shadows in the Geneva Ledger
11 - 15
Midnight had long since passed, but the private study of the Blackwood mansion remained brightly lit. The smell of cold coffee and old parchment filled the air as Ethan poured over the financial manifests Vance had transmitted securely from downtown.
Amelia stood quietly by the window, watching the heavy shadows cast by the ancient oak trees in the moonlight. She could feel the tension radiating off Ethan—a familiar, dangerous energy that she thought had been extinguished the night they rescued her from the bunker.
“You’re still down here,” Amelia said softly, walking over and placing a warm hand on his shoulder.
Ethan looked up, rubbing his tired eyes before offering her a reassuring, albeit weary, smile. “I can’t let this go, Amelia. If the Sterling family was behind the funding, it means Victor wasn't acting alone. There’s someone else out there—someone who knew about the hospital fire, someone who knew you were alive, and someone who is still waiting to finish what Victor started.”
Amelia’s hand tightened on his shoulder. “Do you think they know we found out about the offshore accounts?”
“If Vance’s cyber team was able to crack the metadata firewall, their security team probably received an automated red-flag alert,” Ethan said grimly, standing up from his desk. “Which means whoever is pulling the strings knows we are hunting them.”
Before Amelia could answer, the secure desk terminal emitted a sharp, high-pitched chime—the priority alert code reserved exclusively for encrypted communications from Commander Vance.
Ethan lunged across the room, hitting the accept button on the secure video terminal.
The screen flickered to life, revealing Vance sitting in his command center, looking more tense and urgent than Ethan had ever seen him.
“Mr. Blackwood,” Vance said without preamble. “We cracked the Geneva notary records. We pulled the identity of the primary trustee who activated the Sterling estate’s financial reserves forty-eight hours ago.”
“Give me the name,” Ethan demanded, his heart hammering against his ribs.
Vance pushed a high-resolution identification document onto the main viewing monitor.
“The name on the legal filing is Jonathan Vance—no relation to me,” Vance said grimly. “He’s the senior managing director of Sterling Global Assets in Zurich. But more importantly… he’s currently booked on a private charter flight landing at the municipal airfield less than twenty miles from your estate in two hours.”
Ethan stared at the screen, his blood turning to ice. “He’s coming here?”
“He’s not just visiting, Mr. Blackwood,” Vance warned, his voice grave. “Flight logs show he filed an emergency corporate repossession order against the entire Blackwood estate under an obscure debt-default clause written into the 2019 family trust. By sunrise, legally speaking, they intend to evict you, seize the property, and take custody of your assets.”
May you like
Ethan let out a cold, humorless laugh, reaching down to unlock the secure wall safe behind his grandfather’s portrait and pulling out his SIG Sauer.
“They can try,” Ethan whispered, checking the magazine with a sharp clack. “Tell the tactical teams to lock down the estate perimeter. Nobody enters this house tonight unless I give the order.”
