Chapter 8
Midnight at Blackwood Manor brought a profound, heavy silence. The crystal chandelier in the grand foyer was dimmed, casting soft, amber pools of light across the sweeping staircase. Julian moved through the shadows of the second-floor hallway, dressed in dark civilian clothes rather than his formal uniform. His footsteps were completely silent against the thick runners of antique carpet.
His destination was not the main house, but the converted carriage house at the edge of the estate, which Marcus Vance used as his private living quarters and field office whenever he stayed overnight. Richard had provided Julian with the master key code earlier that evening during a brief, whispered exchange in the pantry.
“He keeps the ledger in a floor safe beneath his mahogany desk,” Richard had warned him. “If you are caught, I cannot protect you. Marcus is desperate, and a desperate man is dangerous.”
Julian stepped out through the rear service exit, the cool night air hitting his face. The immaculate gardens looked haunting under the pale moonlight, the circular fountains casting gentle ripples in the dark water. He crossed the paved courtyard, keeping low against the high manicured hedges until he reached the heavy oak door of the carriage house.
The digital keypad glowed faintly in the darkness. Julian punched in the six-digit code Richard had provided. With a soft, mechanical click, the lock disengaged. He slipped inside, pulling the heavy door shut behind him.
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The office smelled of expensive leather, cold parchment, and scotch. Moonlight streamed through the tall arched windows, illuminating the neat stacks of legal documents and leather-bound ledgers on the desk. Julian didn't waste time. He dropped to his knees beneath the massive mahogany desk, running his hands along the polished wooden floorboards until he found the subtle seam of the recessed floor safe.
His heart hammered in his ears as he entered the secondary combination—Eleanor’s birthday, a date Richard had guessed Marcus would arrogance enough to use. With a heavy, metallic thud, the safe door popped open. Inside sat a single, thick manila folder labeled with a handwritten date from five years ago. Julian pulled it out, opening the cover to reveal the original financial transfer documents—and a signed confession bearing Marcus Vance’s signature.
