Chapter 12 - The Fortress of Glass
Clara killed the engine, the sudden silence inside the car feeling heavy and ominous. She shifted the gear into park and turned to Ethan, her green evening dress shimmering under the dashboard lights.
"Ethan, look at those vehicles," Clara whispered, her voice tight with panic. "Those are private security transport vans. Not federal marshals. Marcus is already inside."
Ethan stared at the imposing marble facade of the Federal Trust Building. The massive oak doors were slightly ajar, a sliver of golden light spilling out onto the wet stone steps.
"He knew we were coming," Ethan said, a cold realization settling deep in his chest. "The safety deposit box isn't a secret to him at all. He set this trap from the beginning."
Arthur opened his car door slowly, stepping out onto the wet pavement with the quiet dignity of a general surveying a battlefield. He buttoned his blue suit jacket and adjusted his cuffs.
"He thinks he knows every move we'll make," Arthur said, looking back at Ethan through the open door. "Marcus is arrogant. He relies on force, intimidation, and paper trails. But he forgot one fundamental rule of the Vance family."
"What rule is that?" Ethan asked, stepping out of the car to join him, his white dress shirt and brown vest standing out sharply against the dark urban backdrop.
"We never back down when our blood is on the line," Arthur replied, his eyes flashing with a fierce, youthful determination that belied his gray hair.
Sarah climbed out of the back seat, carefully transferring the sleeping boy into Clara's arms. "Take Leo and wait in the underground parking garage two blocks over," Sarah instructed Clara firmly. "If we aren't back out in twenty minutes, take the emergency car and drive straight to the federal prosecutor's office in the capital."
Clara hesitated, looking between Sarah and Ethan. For a moment, the old rivalry melted away, replaced by a shared, desperate survival instinct. "Be careful, Ethan. Both of you."
Ethan nodded once, a silent acknowledgment passing between them. Then, alongside Arthur, he turned and marched up the grand stone steps toward the half-open doors of the Federal Trust Building.
The heavy oak doors creaked open further as they pushed through, revealing a vast marble lobby lit only by the emergency exit signs and the ambient glow of city lights filtering through the stained-glass dome high above.
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Standing in the center of the rotunda, leaning casually against a marble pillar and spinning a brass key around his finger, was Marcus Vance.
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