Chapter 2 - The Missing Case
Vanessa never reached the elevator.
Two hotel security officers stopped her outside the boardroom.
She twisted away from the first guard.
"Get your hands off me."
Marcus rushed into the hallway.
"Let her go."
The guards looked at me instead.
That tiny moment changed everything.
For years, Marcus had given orders and watched people obey.
Now they waited for mine.
Marcus noticed.
His face hardened.
I stepped into the hallway.
"Nobody is detaining her."
Vanessa immediately relaxed.
"Good."
I continued.
"But nobody is leaving the building until we determine what was removed from my suite."
Her eyes flashed.
"You can't hold me here."
"I'm not."
I pointed toward the elevator.
"You are free to leave."
Marcus looked confused.
Then Samuel appeared behind me.
"If Ms. Cross leaves while possessing property belonging to Sinclair Holdings or Mrs. Vale, law enforcement will handle the matter outside."
Vanessa stopped.
For three seconds, no one moved.
Then Marcus turned toward her.
"What did you take?"
"Nothing."
"Security footage says otherwise."
She looked at me.
"You're enjoying this."
"No."
I meant it.
I wasn't enjoying anything.
The previous night had stripped away whatever satisfaction revenge might have offered.
I wanted truth.
That was becoming much more dangerous.
Security chief Daniel Ross approached with a tablet.
"We pulled the footage."
He placed it on the boardroom table.
At 3:12 a.m., the private elevator opened on the penthouse floor.
Vanessa stepped out wearing a baseball cap and Marcus's black overcoat.
She entered our suite using an executive override.
Nine minutes later, she reappeared carrying a silver case.
Marcus watched twice.
Then a third time.
Finally he whispered, "What was in that?"
I already knew.
My father's archive.
After his death, three sealed cases had been transferred to me.
The first contained estate documents.
The second contained personal letters.
The third contained records I had never opened because my father had written one instruction across the lock.
ONLY IF THE TRUST IS THREATENED.
That case had remained untouched for ten years.
Until last night.
I looked at Vanessa.
"Where is it?"
She smiled weakly.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Daniel changed the video.
Exterior footage showed Vanessa carrying the case into the underground garage.
She placed it inside the trunk of a black sedan.
The license plate belonged to a corporate vehicle assigned to Marcus.
Marcus stared at her.
"You used my car?"
Vanessa's composure finally cracked.
"You told me Amelia was going to destroy us."
"I told you she was angry."
"You said there were documents."
Marcus turned toward me.
"I didn't tell her to steal anything."
Vanessa laughed.
"Don't do that."
"Do what?"
"Pretend you weren't terrified last night."
Marcus stepped closer.
"I was locked out of my systems."
"And you told me to find out what she had."
"Not steal a case."
Vanessa pointed at him.
"You said, 'Whatever she has, get it before morning.'"
The room went silent.
Marcus looked at me.
I felt nothing.
Not shock.
Not even pain.
Only confirmation.
"You sent her into my room."
"Amelia."
"Did you?"
His shoulders lowered.
"I panicked."
That might have been the first truthful thing he had said.
Daniel cleared his throat.
"The car left the garage at 3:27 a.m."
"Who drove?"
"Not Ms. Cross."
Daniel enlarged the frame.
A man stood beside the driver's door.
Gray hair.
Dark trench coat.
A distinctive scar above his left eyebrow.
I knew him instantly.
So did Marcus.
"No."
His voice came out barely above a whisper.
I looked at him.
"You know him."
Marcus stepped toward the screen.
"That's impossible."
"Who is he?"
He didn't answer.
Samuel did.
"Edwin Mercer."
The name landed like a weight.
One of the directors stood abruptly.
"Richard Sinclair's former chief financial officer?"
Samuel nodded.
Edwin Mercer had disappeared from our company sixteen years earlier after being accused of embezzling nearly forty million dollars.
My father had refused to speak about him afterward.
Marcus looked shaken.
I had known Marcus for fourteen years.
I had seen him angry.
Drunk.
Arrogant.
Jealous.
I had never seen him afraid.
Until now.
I stepped closer.
"When did you last see Edwin Mercer?"
Marcus swallowed.
"Eleven years ago."
My skin went cold.
Eleven years ago.
The year we married.
The year my father created Article Nine.
The year Marcus told me Mercer had died overseas.
I stared at my husband.
"You told me he was dead."
Marcus slowly looked at me.
"I thought he was."
Daniel's phone rang.
He answered.
Listened.
Then his expression changed.
"Mrs. Vale."
"What?"
"The sedan has been found."
"Where?"
"At the old Sinclair Harbor Hotel."
That property had been closed for renovation for almost a year.
May you like
Daniel hesitated.
"There was blood inside the trunk."
