Chapter 5
Z
The vault room at the First National Bank was cold, sterile, and quiet, save for the heavy metallic thud of the bank manager unlocking the outer mechanism of safety deposit box 408.
"I'll leave you two alone," the manager said with a polite nod, closing the heavy steel privacy door behind him.
I inserted the silver key into the double-lock slot, turned it alongside the master key, and pulled out the long, metallic box. My hands were shaking. Ethan stood guard near the door, his eyes darting across the security cameras in the ceiling.
I lifted the lid. Inside lay three items: an old leather-bound ledger, a encrypted silver flash drive, and a handwritten letter addressed to me in my father’s distinct, looping cursive.
I unfolded the paper first.
Dearest Claire,
If you are reading this, it means my past has finally caught up with our family, and your mother has made the terrible choices I always feared she would. I am so sorry for leaving you with this burden.
Elysium Holdings is not just a syndicate, Claire. It is a shadowy network created by corrupt military contractors and political figures to siphon money out of defense budgets. Victoria Sterling is the chief fixer. The enclosed ledger contains every bribe, every illegal transaction, and every offshore account tied to Elysium—including the names of the high-ranking officials protecting them.
Use this to burn them to the ground. But be careful. The moment Victoria realizes you have this, she will stop at nothing to eliminate you.
With all my love,
Dad.
I stared at the leather book, my breath hitching in my throat. My father hadn't been a willing participant in the crime syndicate; he had been an informant gathering evidence to dismantle it from the inside before he mysteriously died of a "heart attack" three years ago.
"Ethan," I whispered, my voice trembling. "My father didn't die of natural causes."
Ethan walked over, reading over my shoulder as I flipped through the pages of the ledger. Page after page listed wire transfers, code names, and dates. But on the very last page, a name was circled in dark red ink:
General Marcus Vance - Joint Chiefs Liaison.
Ethan’s face went completely pale. "Marcus Vance? That’s DA Vance’s father."
The realization hit us like a physical blow. The district attorney who had shown up at our house last night with the arrest team—the woman we thought was helping us—was the daughter of the mastermind behind the entire operation.
Before we could digest the horrifying truth, the vault door burst open with a violent metallic bang.
May you like
Three men in tactical gear stepped inside, silenced pistols raised directly at our chests. Behind them walked District Attorney Vance, a cold, sickening smile on her face, completely stripped of her professional prosecutor persona.
"I have to thank your mother for making that phone call from jail," DA Vance said, stepping around her armed guards. "We’ve been looking for your father’s little black book for three years, Claire. And you just brought it right to me."
