Chapter 13
The grandfather clock in the grand foyer of the Sterling estate struck midnight. Outside, a steady, driving rain beat against the tall leaded windows, washing the manicured lawns in a watery gray sheen. Inside, the house was plunged in deep, suffocating darkness, save for the pale glow of a security keypad flashing a steady green light near the study entrance.
Elena stood motionless in the hallway, wearing dark clothing and a waterproof jacket, her breath coming in slow, measured intervals. Behind her, Clara slipped her key into the lock of the heavy oak study door with practiced silence. The brass latch clicked open with barely a whisper, and the two women stepped into the cavernous room that had served as the command center of Arthur Sterling’s domain for decades.
The air in the study smelled of old leather, expensive cigar smoke, and polished mahogany. Clara immediately moved toward the oil painting of the ancestral estate hanging on the back wall, lifting the heavy canvas to reveal a digital wall safe embedded in the reinforced concrete behind it.
“Do you have the combination memorized?” Elena whispered, keeping watch near the hallway entrance.
“Twenty-four, twelve, zero-eight,” Clara whispered back, her fingers moving swiftly across the numeric keypad. She punched in the digits with practiced precision. A faint electronic chime sounded, and the heavy steel door of the safe swung outward, revealing a stack of thick manila folders and leather-bound portfolios.
“I have them,” Clara breathed, reaching inside and pulling out the files labeled Sterling Holdings International. She handed them to Elena, who immediately tucked them into a waterproof canvas satchel slung across her chest.
Suddenly, the harsh beam of a flashlight cut through the darkness of the hallway, followed by the heavy, unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching the study.
Elena’s heart slammed against her ribs. She froze, her eyes widening in sheer panic. Clara spun around, her face draining of all color.
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“Clara? Who is in my study?”
The voice was cold, authoritative, and unmistakable. It was Arthur Sterling.
