Chapter 11 - The Face in the Moonlight
The silver moonlight cut across the luxurious penthouse suite, illuminating the face of the intruder standing by the mahogany writing desk. Maya stopped dead in her tracks, her hand resting firmly on the strap of her leather shoulder bag. The man holding the confidential corporate deeds was not an external thief, nor was he one of Marcus Sterling’s hired fixers.
It was Richard Vance—Julian’s own younger brother and the sitting vice president of real estate acquisitions for the global hotel group.
Richard froze, the heavy leather portfolio clutched tightly in his gloved hands. For a second, neither of them spoke. The low hum of the city traffic far below was the only sound in the opulent room. Richard slowly lowered his chin, offering a tight, strained smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
“Maya,” Richard said smoothly, his voice dropping into a calm, conversational tone as if they were meeting at a cocktail party rather than a crime scene. “I must admit, you move much faster than Marcus gave you credit for. I expected him to keep you tied up in the sub-level for at least another twenty minutes.”
Maya did not lower her guard. Her dark eyes remained locked onto his, analytical and unwavering. “You’ve been draining the operational capital through offshore shells in the Caymans, Richard. Marcus was just your front man taking the operational risks.”
Richard chuckled softly, stepping away from the writing desk and placing the portfolio down onto a glass coffee table. He adjusted the lapel of his expensive trench coat with casual arrogance. “Marcus is a blunt instrument. He thought he was running a clever little cash-booking scheme on the side. He never realized that the real profit was in systematically devaluing this property so our parent syndicate could buy out the remaining minority shareholders at a fraction of their true value.”
“Including my family’s shares,” Maya said quietly, stepping further into the room, closing the physical distance between them without a trace of fear.
Richard nodded slowly, his expression turning cold and calculating. “Business is business, Maya. Your grandfather built this hotel on sentimentality. Sentimentality doesn't pay dividends in a global market. When I take over the board tomorrow morning, the Grand Astoria will be rebranded, stripped of its historical independent status, and sold off to the highest corporate bidder.”
“You won’t be taking over anything tomorrow morning, Richard,” a sharp, resonant voice echoed from the private foyer entrance.
Richard’s head snapped toward the door. Julian Vance stepped into the penthouse suite, his face pale with a mixture of profound betrayal and cold fury. Behind him stood two uniformed city police officers, their hands resting calmly on their utility belts.
Julian stared at his younger brother, his chest heaving with deep, restrained emotion. “I gave you everything, Richard. I brought you into this firm, I covered for your financial mistakes five years ago, and all along, you were bleeding our family’s legacy dry from the inside out.”
Richard’s confident facade finally cracked, a flash of genuine panic flickering across his eyes as he looked from Julian to the police officers blocking the exit. He backed away slowly toward the floor-to-ceiling glass balcony doors, his hand slipping inside his trench coat pocket.
“Don't do it, Richard,” Maya warned, her voice cutting through the tension with absolute finality as she raised her smartphone to record every second of his next move.
May you like
Richard ignored her warning. With a sudden, desperate lunge, he smashed his elbow through the reinforced glass balcony door, sending a spiderweb of cracks across the pane as alarms began to blare throughout the entire penthouse.
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