Chapter 4 - THE SILENT CONSPIRACY
Morning light filtered softly through the tall French windows of the Vance Manhattan penthouse.
Julian hadn't slept a single minute, spent the whole night analyzing financial ledgers on his encrypted laptop.
A sudden knock on the heavy mahogany door disrupted his thoughts.
"Come in," Julian said, closing his laptop screen instantly.
Emily walked in holding a tray with fresh black coffee and toast.
"Good morning, Mr. Vance," she said softly, placing the tray gently on his glass desk.
"Thank you, Emily," Julian replied, examining her composure. "You seem remarkably calm after last night."
"When you grow up with nothing, Mr. Vance, chaos isn't frightening," she answered simply.
Julian stared at her for a long moment, noticing the subtle grace in her posture that felt out of place for a servant.
"You're not who you claim to be, are you?" Julian asked directly, leaning forward.
Emily's breath caught in her throat for a microsecond before she restored her stoic expression.
"I am a woman who owes your late father a life debt," she stated firmly.
"My father?" Julian frowned, his interest instantly piqued. "He died six years ago in a helicopter crash."
"It was no accident," Emily revealed, her voice dropping into a serious whisper. "Just like your juice wasn't an accident."
Julian stood up abruptly, his chair sliding across the hard rug.
"What do you know about my father's death?" he demanded, stepping closer to her.
"The same people who paid Victoria to poison you were the ones who sabotaged your father's flight," Emily said without flinching.
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"Who are they?" Julian insisted, his eyes wild with a mix of grief and vengeance.
"They sit on the board of your own company, Mr. Vance," she replied quietly.
