Chapter 13 - The Race Against the Clock
Dawn broke over the city, painting the slate-gray skyline in bruised shades of purple and gold. The private airstrip on the outskirts of the Vance estate was shrouded in a thick morning mist that clung to the wet tarmac like a shroud. A sleek, twin-engine corporate jet stood idling on the runway, its turbine engines humming with suppressed power.
Julian hurried down the metal boarding stairs, carrying a heavy steel briefcase containing the recovered architectural blueprints of the Singapore port vaults. Clara followed closely behind him, wearing a sharp charcoal-gray wool coat that replaced her maid's uniform, though the gold signet ring remained firmly on her finger.
At the base of the stairs stood Agent Miller, holding a secure satellite phone.
"Your flight clearance has been expedited through federal channels, Miss Vance," Agent Miller said, handing the phone to Clara. "But be warned. Evelyn’s legal team has already filed a motion with the international maritime court to impound any vessel or aircraft linked to the Vance registry once you touch down."
Clara took the phone, her expression carved from stone. "Let them try. The international court respects property ownership, and the signet ring speaks louder than any corrupt injunction."
"Be careful, Clara," Julian warned, climbing aboard the aircraft and looking back down at his sister. "If Phoenix Maritime was set up by our father... who do you think has been pulling the strings from Singapore all these years?"
Clara paused on the metal step, the cold wind catching her blonde hair. "There's only one person outside of the family who knew the vault combination." She turned to face Julian. "Our father's former business partner—the man who disappeared the day after the nursery fire."
Julian’s eyes widened in horror. "Victor Sterling... everyone thought he died in a shipwreck off the coast of Hong Kong."
"Dead men tell no tales, Julian," Clara said softly, stepping inside the cabin and pulling the heavy hatch shut. "But they leave very expensive paper trails."
May you like
The jet’s engines roared to life, kicking up a furious cloud of mist and gravel as it accelerated down the runway, lifting gracefully into the grey morning sky like a silver arrow piercing the heart of a twenty-year-old lie.
---
