Chapter 7
The heavy oak doors of Arthur Vance’s private study were unlocked—a careless mistake born of absolute arrogance. Elena threw herself against the panels, slipping inside and slamming them shut behind her. She quickly turned the heavy deadbolt, locking out the sound of Marcus’s heavy boots pounding down the hallway toward her.
The room was vast, smelling of aged leather, expensive cigars, and old paper. Tall mahogany bookshelves lined the walls, stretching up to a coffered ceiling. The moonlight streamed through the large arched window, casting long, silver bars across the Persian rug.
Elena didn't waste a second. She rushed over to the massive mahogany desk that dominated the center of the room. Her hands shook violently as she felt along the underside of the ornate wooden moulding, searching for the false panel Eleanor had mentioned. Her fingertips brushed against a hidden seam. With a sharp push, a small side compartment popped open with a soft click.
Inside lay a heavy black ledger and a cold steel drive. But beneath them sat the physical master key to the basement vault.
Footsteps slammed against the outer door, followed by the heavy rattle of the brass handle.
“Open this door immediately, Mrs. Vance!” Marcus’s muffled voice boomed through the solid wood.
Elena grabbed the master key and the steel drive, shoving them deep into the pocket of her gold dress. She pulled open the ledger, flipping to the bookmarked page, and gasped. The columns showed millions of dollars funneled out of Clara’s trust and into offshore accounts controlled entirely by Arthur.
The rattling at the door grew more violent, accompanied by the metallic scraping of a master tool. They were picking the lock.
Elena looked up at the wall behind the desk. Hanging there was a massive oil painting of Arthur’s father, the founder of the empire. A faint draft of cold air drifted from behind the canvas. Elena didn't hesitate; she pushed against the heavy frame. The painting swung inward like a secret door, revealing a narrow, stone spiral staircase plunging down into absolute darkness.
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As the lock finally clicked open and the heavy study door began to swing inward, Elena dove headfirst into the dark stairwell, pulling the painting shut behind her just as the lights in the study clicked on.
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