Chapter 4
The drawing room of the Vance estate was bathed in the soft glow of floor lamps, the mahogany bookshelves lining the walls smelling faintly of aged paper and leather. Clara Vance sat stiffly on the velvet settee, still wearing her olive green embroidered gown from the gala. Her hands were folded neatly in her lap, though her fingers twitched nervously against the fabric.
When the heavy oak door creaked open and Elena walked in—her hair slightly disheveled, the faint scratch on her cheek visible even in the dim light—Clara stood up instantly.
“Where have you been?” Clara demanded, her voice tight with anxiety. “Julian has been calling my phone for the last hour. He’s furious. He said you stormed out like a child and refused to answer his messages. Do you have any idea what kind of impression that makes?”
Elena closed the door behind her, locking it with a sharp click that echoed in the quiet room. She walked slowly toward her sister, her gaze unyielding. “He told me to know my place, Clara. In front of half the cabinet ministers and defense officials in the city.”
Clara flinched, looking away for a fraction of a second before hardening her expression. “He was under a lot of stress. The military promotion board meets tomorrow. You shouldn't have questioned his directives regarding the seating arrangements for the gala. You always have to make everything about your pride.”
“My pride?” Elena stopped a few feet away, her voice dangerously quiet. “Clara, look at me. Look at this scratch.” She pointed to her cheek. “That didn’t happen because I tripped. It happened because the security detail pushed me aside when I tried to walk past him after his little speech. He treats us like domestic staff, and you’re standing there making excuses for him.”
“He is going to protect this family,” Clara insisted, her voice rising in defensive desperation. “With the new defense contracts, the Vance name will be untouchable for generations. A few harsh words in a moment of tension are a small price to pay for security.”
“Security?” Elena pulled a folded printout from her coat pocket and tossed it onto the coffee table between them. “Take a look at that. That’s not security. That’s embezzlement.”
Clara hesitated, her eyes dropping to the paper. Slowly, reluctantly, she stepped forward and picked up the transaction log. As her eyes scanned the numbers linking Julian’s Cayman shell company to Apex Global, the color drained entirely from her face. The sophisticated, composed facade she wore like armor began to crack.
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“This... this is impossible,” Clara whispered, her fingers trembling as she clutched the paper. “Julian told me these funds were being held in a secure government escrow account for the modernization project.”
“He lied to you, Clara,” Elena said gently, stepping closer and placing a hand on her sister’s shoulder. “He’s using our family as a financial shield for an illegal arms ring. The moment the feds trace those accounts, we take the fall, not him. He was planning to discard us all along.”
