Chapter 14 - The Vanished Transport
The prosecutor’s tablet screen flickered, displaying a live dashboard feed from the federal transport unit that had been assigned to transfer Eleanor Vance to maximum security. The GPS coordinates blinked erratically in the middle of an isolated stretch of highway bridge, accompanied by a status code that made the blood run cold: SIGNAL LOST - EMERGENCY BEACON ACTIVE.
Marcus stood up so fast his chair scraped loudly against the linoleum floor. "Where is the escort unit?" he demanded, his voice slicing through the room like a razor.
"They were ambushed three miles outside the city limits," the prosecutor said, his hands shaking slightly as he tapped the screen to pull up traffic camera footage. "A semi-truck jackknifed across the highway, blocking the tunnel exit. When local patrol units arrived five minutes later, the transport van’s doors were blown off from the inside. The guards are unconscious—and Eleanor is gone."
Clara clutched the edge of the examination table, her heart hammering wildly against her ribs. "She planned this," she whispered, horror washing over her features. "The transfer route... she must have bribed someone on the transport detail weeks ago, waiting for the exact moment to stage her own escape."
"Not just an escape," Marcus said darkly, his jaw locked in a terrifying display of controlled rage. He reached inside his jacket, pulling out his phone and speed-dialing his head of security. "Get every available unit to the main estate immediately. Lock down the perimeter. She’s coming back for the vault keys."
"The vault?" Clara asked, her voice trembling. "The archives are burned. What’s left in the vault?"
"The original paper certificates of the joint trust," Marcus replied, his eyes burning with lethal intent. "The digital files can be verified, but without the physical watermark certificates bearing both our families' seals, the court can contest the transfer for years in probate. She’s coming back to finish the job—and she knows you’re the only one who can legally sign away the claim."
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Marcus grabbed his dark suit jacket from the back of the chair and shrugged it onto his broad shoulders, his dark tattoos flexing beneath the fabric. He turne
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