Chapter 6 - THE PHOTOGRAPH
The clock on my nightstand ticked toward midnight.
I slipped out of my room and crept down the silent, carpeted hallways of the staff wing.
The mansion was completely dark.
I made my way to the back gardens.
The glass greenhouse glowed faintly under the moonlight.
I pushed the heavy glass door open.
The warm, humid air smelled of orchids and damp earth.
David was sitting on a wrought-iron bench in the shadows.
He stood up when I walked in.
“You came,” he said quietly.
“You knew?” I whispered. “How did you know she threatened me?”
David ran a hand through his hair.
“I’m not a fool, Clara. I saw the change in you. You love my boys. You wouldn't push them away unless someone was forcing you to.”
I felt a massive weight lift off my chest.
I started to cry.
“She threatened my mother’s physical therapy,” I sobbed. “Her brother owns the clinic. She said she would cut off her treatment.”
David’s jaw tightened.
A cold, dangerous anger flashed in his eyes.
“She won't touch your mother,” David said firmly. “I quietly bought out the Sterling Institute’s debt yesterday morning. They answer to my holding company now. Your mother is perfectly safe.”
I gasped, covering my mouth.
“Thank you,” I wept. “Thank you, Mr. Vance.”
“Call me David,” he said.
He stepped closer.
“Clara, I need your help. I’ve known for weeks that Victoria is embezzling from my corporate accounts. But she’s incredibly careful. She’s hiding the routing numbers somewhere physical, not digital.”
“Why haven't you called the police?”
“Because she’s not working alone,” David said. “Someone on the inside is helping her bypass the security protocols. If I arrest her now, the accomplice will destroy the money trail, and I’ll never recover the millions they’ve already stolen.”
I remembered the boarding pass.
“She’s planning to leave,” I said. “I found a torn plane ticket. She’s flying to Zurich on Sunday.”
David nodded grimly.
“Which means we are out of time. I believe she keeps the physical ledgers in the locked mahogany desk in her dressing room.”
“I clean that room,” I said quickly. “I know where she hides the spare key to that desk. It’s inside a hollowed-out perfume bottle on her vanity.”
David looked at me with immense gratitude.
“Can you get in there tonight?”
“Yes. She took a sleeping pill an hour ago. I saw her drink it with her tea.”
“Go,” David said. “Find anything with account numbers. I’ll wait in my study.”
I snuck back into the house.
My heart was beating so loud I was sure it would wake the entire mansion.
I slipped into the master suite.
Victoria was fast asleep in the massive canopy bed, her breathing slow and even.
I crept into her massive walk-in dressing room.
I found the perfume bottle.
Twisted the cap.
The small brass key slid into my palm.
I moved to the mahogany desk and unlocked the bottom drawer.
Inside was a stack of leather-bound notebooks.
I flipped one open.
Pages of offshore bank routing numbers, passwords, and transfer dates.
David was right.
But as I reached for the books, my hand brushed against a glossy piece of paper tucked in the back of the drawer.
I pulled it out.
It was an 8x10 photograph.
Victoria, sitting on a yacht, laughing, holding a glass of champagne.
But it wasn't David sitting next to her with his arm around her waist.
It was Marcus.
The head of security.
They were kissing.
The accomplice wasn't a banker.
It was the man protecting the house.
May you like
Suddenly, a massive, heavy hand clamped down on my shoulder.
I didn't even have time to scream.
