Chapter 7 - The Locked Warehouse
The heavy iron door slammed shut with a definitive, metallic click that echoed through the cavernous warehouse. Julian spun around, rushing toward the exit and throwing his weight against the heavy bolt, but it wouldn't budge. It had been electronically sealed from the outside. He pulled out his phone, searching frantically for a signal, but the thick concrete and lead-lined walls of the old mill blocked every bar of reception.
Miller chuckled darkly from the shadows near the shipping container, leaning his iron pipe against the wall. “Don’t bother, Mr. Vance. There’s no cell service down here, and the override code was changed twenty minutes ago.”
Julian turned back to face the older man, his expression hardening. “Who locked us in? Was it Eleanor?”
“Your wife is playing her own game, boy,” Miller said, spitting onto the dusty concrete. “She figured out what Clara was doing hours ago. But she didn’t want to stop her from exposing the truth. She wanted to make sure you took the fall for it all.”
Julian stared at him, trying to process the sheer scale of the betrayal. “Why would Eleanor want me to take the fall? We’re partners.”
“Partners?” Miller laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. “In a marriage like yours, there’s only room for one survivor when the ship goes down. She’s already transferring the offshore accounts to her own private holding company. By morning, you’ll be a bankrupt criminal wanted for corporate manslaughter, and she’ll be sunning herself in the Mediterranean.”
Julian felt the blood drain from his face. He remembered the flash drive in his pocket, pulling it out to verify it was still there. The small plastic device felt heavy, like an anchor dragging him down into the abyss.
“If Clara isn’t here, where is she?” Julian asked, his voice low and dangerous.
Miller’s expression shifted, losing its mocking edge and turning grim. “She’s at your estate, Julian. And she’s not looking for files anymore. She’s opening the vault beneath your study.”
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Julian froze. The vault didn't just hold financial records; it held the physical evidence—the original blueprints, the double-entry ledgers, and the signed confessions of every man who participated in the cover-up twenty years ago. If Clara opened that vault, there would be no way out for anyone.
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