Chapter 9
The cool midnight air carried the distant, rhythmic hum of the flashing blue police cruisers parked at the main gate. Down in the shadows of the lower service drive, the sleek black sedan of Victor Vance’s private security detail remained pinned between the automated security bollards and the stone perimeter wall. Julian and Margaret hurried down the exterior stone staircase from the east wing, their footsteps crunching loudly on the gravel as they tried to slip toward the secondary exit, only to freeze when two large figures stepped out from the darkness of the overhead sycamore trees.
Victor Vance himself stepped forward into the pale wash of moonlight, his tailored dark coat buttoned tightly against the chill, a thin, cold smile playing across his lips. Behind him stood two heavy-set associates, their hands casually resting inside their coats, blocking any path of retreat back toward the manor house.
"Going somewhere, Julian?" Vance asked smoothly, his voice dripping with icy amusement. "You look like a man who just realized his check bounced at the worst possible casino."
Julian swallowed hard, taking a protective step in front of Margaret as he raised his hands defensively. "Vance, listen to me. The digital asset keys were locked out by my grandmother, but I can fix it. I just need twenty-four hours to—"
"Twenty-four hours?" Vance interrupted, his smile vanishing instantly as he stepped closer, the temperature of the conversation dropping below freezing. "You promised me the downtown condo title by midnight. You used my bridge loan to cover your private gambling debts at the downtown tables, assuring me that the family trust was your personal piggy bank. Now my investors are breathing down my neck, and your grandmother has the police sitting at the front gate."
Margaret clutched Julian’s arm, her voice trembling uncontrollably. "Please... you don't understand. Evelyn has the entire forensic audit. The police are already here. If you stay here, you'll be caught in the sweep too."
Before Vance could respond, the sharp beam of a high-powered flashlight cut through the darkness from the upper driveway. "State police! Stay where you are! Keep your hands where we can see them!" shouted a commanding voice echoing across the gravel courtyard.
Heavy footsteps crunched rapidly down the stone path as uniformed state troopers emerged from the shadows, their service weapons holstered but their postures rigid and ready. Vance’s associates instantly tensed, looking toward their boss for a command, but Vance simply raised his hands slowly into the air, his cold eyes fixed on Julian with absolute contempt.
May you like
"Looks like your grandmother’s accounting department is far more efficient than your business plan, Julian," Vance whispered bitterly as the first pair of handcuffs clicked into place around his wrists.
***
