Chapter 16 - The Chief Justice’s Mask
Sir Reginald’s smooth aristocratic smile didn't fade, but his blue eyes instantly turned into two shards of sharp, frozen steel.
He gestured toward a quiet alcove behind the massive stone pillars, out of earshot of the lingering guests and reporters.
“You have your father’s dangerous habit of making bold statements in public rooms, Khloe,” Sir Reginald remarked quietly.
“Edward Vance thought his financial ledgers made him untouchable thirty years ago in Chicago.”
“He forgot that ledgers can be burned, aircraft can experience unexpected electrical failures, and widows can be silenced.”
Khloe took a slow, deep breath, her hands resting calmly over her clutch bag as she listened to the high-ranking judge.
“My father died thirty years ago, Sir Reginald,” Khloe said, her voice dropping into a lethal, crystal-clear whisper.
“But he left behind a daughter who built an empire out of forensic accounting.”
“I didn't come to London to negotiate with you or ask for a settlement.”
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“I came to inform you that Vault 902 was opened two hours ago by the Metropolitan Police fraud division.”
Sir Reginald’s face went completely rigid, his hand tightening around his champagne glass so hard that the stem cracked.
