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Chapter 5 - The Blue Envelope

Corbin didn't yell. He didn't smash anything. The fury inside him was too cold, too concentrated for outward explosion.

He stood up so abruptly his chair screeched across the polished wood floor. Without another word to Sterling, he turned on his heel, walked out of the conference room, and strode past Miss Gable’s desk without breaking his stride.

"Cancel everything for the rest of the week," he threw over his shoulder.

He got back into his SUV. This time, he didn't drive back to his empty, echoing estate. He drove straight back to the pale-yellow triple-decker apartment on the east side of Providence. The rain had slowed to a miserable, misty drizzle, casting a grey twilight over the damp streets.

When he pulled up to the curb, he noticed something different.

A sleek, unfamiliar black sedan was parked directly behind Lianna’s car. Two men in dark suits were standing in the open entryway of the building, speaking in hushed, urgent tones.

Corbin cut his engine, slipped out of the vehicle, and approached quietly from the shadows of the overgrown hedge.

As he got closer, he recognized one of the men. It was Donald Vance—Julian’s estranged, ruthless uncle, a corporate liquidator notorious for seizing assets from distressed families. But what caught Corbin’s breath was the door to Lianna’s apartment on the second floor, which stood half-open.

He heard Lianna’s voice, sharp and trembling with fear, cutting through the damp air.

"I told you, I don't have it! My husband is gone, everything is gone, just leave us alone!"

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"Don't play games with me, girl," Donald Vance’s harsh voice boomed from the stairwell. "Julian left something behind before he died. A physical copy of the original leverage files against the Stanford family. If you hand it over right now, I’ll make sure you and the brat have enough money to get out of this rat hole. If you don't... well, let's just say accidents happen in buildings this old."

Corbin didn't hesitate. He vaulted up the concrete stairs two at a time, his heavy leather shoes thudding against the steps like a drumbeat of war.

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