Chapter 2: The Person in the Limousine
Richard tried to recover his composure, adjusting his tuxedo jacket. "Mr. Vance, I’m Richard Sterling. We’ve been trying to secure a meeting with your board for months. This woman is a nobody—"
Alistair didn't blink. He raised a single, aged hand. The gesture was small, but it carried the weight of an emperor.
From the front doors of the hotel, six private security guards in tactical suits rushed out, bypassing Richard entirely to form a protective wall around Alistair and Clara. But it was what happened inside the limousine that froze the entire crowd.
The opposite rear door of the Maybach unlocked with a sharp, heavy thud.
A woman stepped out. She wore a tailored charcoal coat, her silver-streaked hair pulled back into a severe chignon. Her eyes were sharp as diamonds, carrying the terrifying authority of a woman who owned half the skyscrapers in the skyline.
It was Eleanor Vance—Alistair’s estranged sister, and the true, controlling shareholder of Vance Global. For twenty-five years, she had vanished from the public eye after her only daughter had been cast out of the family for marrying a man the family disapproved of.
Eleanor walked slowly through the rain, her heels clicking rhythmically against the stone. She stopped beside Clara, looking down at the silver oak-leaf brooch clutched in Alistair’s hand.
"Is this her?" Eleanor’s voice was dangerously quiet.
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"It’s her, Eleanor," Alistair said, his voice thick with emotion. "It’s our granddaughter. The one they told us died in the hospital fire twenty-five years ago."
Richard staggered backward, his knees nearly buckling. Granddaughter? The "nobody" he had impregnated, gaslit, and thrown into the rain wasn't a charity case. She was the sole heir to the Vance empire.
