Chapter 7: Unwelcome Visitors
I froze, the heavy leather ledger clutched tightly against my chest like a shield. My heart plummeted into my stomach, every muscle in my body locking up as the overhead lights clicked on with a sharp, blinding snap.
Standing in the doorway was Marcus Vance—no, not Marcus, but Julian Sterling, Preston’s chief legal counsel and fixer, holding a heavy silver-handled cane and flashing a predatory, razor-thin smile. Wait, no—it wasn't Julian. It was Marcus Sterling, Preston’s personal head of security, the man who had dragged my luggage out to the car a hundred times when Preston wanted to punish me.
"You really thought you could slip in and out of a fortress like this, Evelyn?" Marcus asked, stepping into the room and closing the heavy oak door behind him with a dull thud. He wasn't wearing his usual crisp security uniform; instead, he wore an expensive cashmere sweater over dark trousers, looking every bit the corporate predator. "Preston knew you’d come back for your things, or worse, for his paperwork. He left me behind in Chicago just to wait for this exact moment."
I took a slow step backward, my heel hitting the edge of the mahogany desk. "Stay away from me, Marcus."
"Put the book down, Evelyn," Marcus said, his voice dropping an octave, losing its polished veneer and revealing the brutal enforcer underneath. He took another step forward, the heavy silver tip of his cane tapping rhythmically against the Persian rug. "You’re in way over your head. You think a few pages of numbers are going to bring down a man like Preston? He owns the judges, the district attorney, and half the city council. All you’ve done tonight is commit felony burglary."
"This isn't just burglary," I said, my voice finding a steady, cold edge that surprised even myself. I raised the black ledger slightly. "This is the end of everything he’s built."
Marcus laughed, a short, humorless bark. "You naive little girl. You think you can walk out of this house with that? Preston will have you declared mentally unstable before sunrise. You’ll be locked away in a private sanitarium upstate, and your little girl will be placed in a state-approved foster home where you’ll never see her again."
The threat hung in the air, cold and poisonous. Every maternal instinct I possessed surged forward, washing away the last remnants of fear and replacing it with pure, burning adrenaline. I didn't hesitate. As Marcus lunged forward, reaching out to grab my wrist, I swung the heavy leather ledger hard across his face.
The thick book struck him squarely on the cheekbone with a dull thud. Marcus stumbled back, cursing sharply as he dropped his cane to grab his face.
I didn't wait to see recovery. I bolted around the mahogany desk, sprinting toward the heavy French doors that led out onto the stone patio. Behind me, Marcus roared with anger, his heavy footsteps crashing across the hardwood floor.
I threw myself against the latch of the French doors, turning the handle just as his hand grazed the back of my jacket. The glass doors swung outward into the cold, pouring rain. I plunged out onto the slippery stone patio, the icy downpour soaking through my clothes instantly.
"Get back here, you bitch!" Marcus shouted from the doorway.
I didn't look back. I scrambled over the low stone retaining wall of the garden, sliding down the muddy embankment into the dense thicket of rhododendron bushes that lined the property's southern boundary. Brambles tore at my jacket and scratched my face, but I kept moving, crawling on my hands and knees through the dark, wet earth until I reached the perimeter security fence.
Hidden beneath the overgrown ivy was the loose panel Eleanor and Vincent’s team had prepared days earlier. I shoved my shoulder against the chain-link wire, squeezing my body through the narrow gap just as the beam of a high-powered flashlight swept across the grass behind me.
I hit the asphalt of the dark country lane just as the headlights of Vincent’s gray SUV appeared around the curve, braking hard with tires hissing against the wet pavement. The passenger door swung open instantly.
"Get in!" Vincent ordered, his voice sharp and urgent.
I threw myself into the passenger seat, slamming the door shut. Vincent floored the accelerator, the SUV surging forward into the night as Marcus burst out through the perimeter fence, shouting curses into the empty rain.
I slumped back against the headrest, gasping for air, clutching the black leather ledger to my chest like a newborn child. My clothes were soaked, my hands were bleeding from the brambles, but as I looked down at the book in my lap, a fierce, triumphant smile broke through the water on my face.
"Did you get it?" Vincent asked, glancing sideways at me as he navigated the dark highway.
May you like
I opened the cover to the first page, revealing the undeniable evidence of corporate fraud, bribery, and deceit.
"I got it," I whispered, turning to look out the window as the sprawling estate vanished into the dark, rainy night. "Now it’s time to show the world."
