Chapter 3 - Eleanor Retreats Behind Locked Doors In The West Wing
Upstairs in the sprawling west wing of the estate, Eleanor slammed her heavy mahogany doors shut and locked the deadbolt.
Her hands trembled slightly against the wood, betraying the first genuine crack in her icy, impenetrable facade.
She walked over to her antique French desk and picked up her secure satellite phone to dial her private corporate counsel.
“Arthur, we have a critical situation at the main residence,” Eleanor hissed into the receiver the moment the line connected.
“What kind of situation, Mrs. Vance? Is the board uprising?” Arthur’s calm, professional voice replied from downtown Manhattan.
“Liam caught us in the act. He saw the entire incident with Emily on the grand staircase,” Eleanor confessed with mounting panic.
“That complicates our corporate trust transfer significantly. The federal investigators are already breathing down our necks,” Arthur warned grimly.
“Handle it, Arthur. Use whatever payoffs or injunctions are necessary to silence Liam before sunrise,” Eleanor commanded fiercely.
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She hung up the phone abruptly, pacing across the expensive Persian rug as she plotted her next ruthless move.
The war for the family fortune had officially escalated from boardroom politics to open warfare within the mansion walls.
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