Chapter 3 - The Midnight Syndicate
The storm hit New York with full fury, heavy rain slanting against the blacked-out SUVs speeding down the West Side Highway. Arthur Vance wasn't a man who waited for justice; he created it. Trailing behind his convoy was a discreet tactical unit, accompanied by Julian, who had been forced to act as their Trojan horse.
Inside the leading SUV, Clara sat next to her father. She had traded her ruined gown for tactical dark clothes, her golden hair tied tightly back. Eleanor had tried to keep her at the estate, but Clara insisted on coming. She needed to look her attackers in the eye.
"You don't have to do this, Clara," Arthur said softly, his voice softening only for his daughter.
"They tried to break me on my wedding night, Dad," Clara replied, her eyes burning with an icy resolve. "I want to see them fall."
They arrived at the waterfront industrial complex owned by Sterling Enterprises. The building looked abandoned from the outside, but light flickered from the top-floor executive suite.
Julian was outfitted with a wire and sent in first. Through the receiver, Arthur and Clara listened in high-definition audio.
"Father! Jonathan!" Julian’s voice echoed through the speakers as he entered the penthouse room. "It’s over! Arthur knows everything! The DNA from the blood—"
"Shut up, Julian!" a sharp, commanding voice interrupted—Victor Sterling. "You weak fool. Did you really think we were going to rely on a timid girl signing a piece of paper?"
A second voice—deeper, harsher—chimed in. Jonathan Sterling. "The blood on her dress was an accident, father. The bitch slashed my arm with a glass. But it doesn't matter. The Vance security network was breached hours ago. We don't just want the trust fund anymore, Julian. We want total control of Vance Global."
Inside the room, Victor walked over to a large blueprint on a glass table. "Arthur Vance thinks he's the apex predator. But he doesn't know that his head of security, Marcus, has been on my payroll for five years."
In the SUV, Arthur’s blood ran cold. He turned around instantly toward his lead security officer sitting in the front passenger seat—Marcus.
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Before Arthur could react, Marcus pulled a silenced pistol, pointing it directly at Arthur's heart.
"Don't move, Mr. Vance," Marcus said with a cold, professional smile. "It seems the sunrise won't be coming for you after all."
