Chapter 11
The lights inside the penthouse boardroom flickered once before settling into a cold, dim illumination.
A tall figure stepped through the doorway, his silhouette outlined against the glass windows of the Boston skyline.
It was Ethan Vance, wearing a sharp black suit, leaning lightly on a wooden cane but walking with absolute, unyielding purpose.
Victoria dropped her gold pen, her face draining of every drop of color as if she were looking at a ghost returned from the grave.
"No... that's impossible..." Victoria gasped, her cigarette falling from her fingers onto the glass tabletop.
"You're dead! I saw the coroner's certificate!" she shrieked, backing her leather chair away from the table.
"You were wrong, Mother," Ethan said, his voice ringing through the silent boardroom with absolute clarity.
"The maid you dismissed as worthless opened the coffin before the oxygen ran out."
William stepped into the room directly behind his son, flanked by Clara and eight heavily armed federal agents.
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"Your game is over, Victoria," William announced coldly, tossing a thick dossier of bank wire transfers onto the center of the mahogany table.
"The Department of Justice has seized every account associated with Vanguard Global."
