Chapter 10 - The Restricted Call
The electronic chime cut through the evening air with an invasive, jarring insistence. Clara stared into the dark interior of the mudbrick house where her smartphone rested on the crude wooden table, glowing against the poverty of the surroundings like a beacon from a world she no longer belonged to.
“Don’t answer it,” Marcus warned softly, stepping in front of her as if to physically block the signal. “If Vance has already seized the network, that call isn’t a conversation. It’s a tracking beacon.”
Clara hesitated, her hand hovering just inches from the device. The screen flashed with the words RESTRICTED CALLER, pulsating rhythmically in the dim light.
“If I ignore them, they will just hunt us down here anyway,” Clara reasoned, her voice steady despite the adrenaline spiking through her veins. “We need to know what their next move is before they make it.”
Without waiting for permission, Clara scooped the phone off the table and swiped the screen to accept the call, pressing the device firmly against her ear.
“Who is this?” Clara demanded, her voice carrying an icy, commanding tone honed by years of boardroom exposure.
For a long moment, there was only static and the sound of heavy, deliberate breathing on the other end of the line. Then, a smooth, raspy voice chuckled softly—a sound that carried the chilling weight of decades of absolute power.
“Clara, my dear. You always were far too intelligent to play dress-up in the slums for very long,” the voice purred smoothly. “Though I must admit, the pink designer dress looks entirely ridiculous covered in mud.”
Clara’s breath hitched. She froze, her eyes widening in sheer terror as she realized who was speaking.
“Julian Vance,” Clara whispered, the name slipping out like a curse. “You’re supposed to be dead. My father said you died in the fire thirty years ago.”
“Your father is a very imaginative man, but an absolute fool when it comes to long-term asset management,” Vance replied, his tone chillingly casual. “He thought he could push me out and keep the empire for himself. And now, thanks to your little romantic expedition into the dirt, you’ve handed me the exact legal leverage I needed to wipe your family off the corporate map entirely.”
Marcus stepped closer, his dark eyes locked onto Clara’s terrified expression. He could hear the faint, distorted audio bleeding from the phone speaker.
“Tell him we’re coming for him,” Marcus mouthed silently, his jaw clenched tight.
Clara swallowed hard, forcing the panic down to summon her absolute composure.
“You can freeze the accounts and steal the board, Julian, but we have the original ledger,” Clara shot back, holding up the leather-bound book. “The federal investigators already know everything.”
A low, mocking laugh echoed through the line, freezing the blood in Clara’s veins.
“The federal investigators are currently being redirected by a federal judge who happens to be on my permanent payroll,” Vance whispered smoothly. “And as for that little ledger of yours? Enjoy it while you can, my dear. Because by midnight, every single person standing in that slum with you is going to vanish off the face of the earth.”
The line went dead with a sharp click. Clara lowered the phone slowly, her hands trembling uncontrollably as the gravity of the threat fully settled over them.
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Before she could speak, the distant sound of heavy automotive engines began to rumble at the entrance of the alleyway, growing louder with every passing second.
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