Chapter 19
'Dear Julian,' the note began, its silver cursive script glistening under the office lamp.
'You thought Eleanor was the mastermind behind the trust theft, but she was merely my pawn.'
'My name is Victoria Vance—Arthur's legitimate daughter from his first marriage in London.'
'The money Eleanor stole wasn't for Arthur; it was transferred directly to my private accounts in the United Kingdom.'
'You took my father, you imprisoned my aunt, and you secured the estate for that common mother and her child.'
'Enjoy your temporary peace in the valley, brother.'
'Because when the autumn leaves fall, I am coming to New York to claim what is rightfully mine.'
Julian dropped the letter onto his desk, staring at the photograph of his unknown half-sister with intense, cold dread.
The victory they had celebrated, the freedom they had fought so hard to achieve, was merely the opening act of a much larger, darker game.
He walked over to the window, looking out at the sunlit lawn where Clara was sitting on a wooden bench with baby Leo.
He knew he could not tell her about the letter—not yet, not while she was finally feeling safe and happy.
He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and pressed the speed-dial button for Marcus's private line.
"Marcus," Julian said, his voice dropping to a low, lethal whisper that carried supreme urgency.
May you like
"Cancel your vacation to Florida."
"We have another Vance to deal with."
