Chapter 4 - The Confession on the Water"You never let go of the past, did you?" Thomas whispered, his voice losing all its corporate polish, revealing a cold, desperate malice beneath.
He didn't run. Instead, he slowly lowered his briefcase to the glass dining table and clicked open the brass latches. He didn't pull out a laptop. He pulled out a heavy, matte-black satellite communicator—a device completely untraceable by local authorities.
"Thomas, put it down," Maxwell warned, stepping forward.
"You think you built this empire, Uncle?" Thomas laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. "Grandpa built it on a foundation of stolen land and forged signatures. The Vances didn't vanish—they were systematically erased. And when I found out three years ago, I didn't try to right the wrong. I finished the job."
From inside the master suite, a weak, rasping cough broke the tension. The little girl was trying to sit up.
Thomas glanced down the hallway, a cruel smirk returning to his lips. "She was supposed to be the last one. An old woman and a sickly orphan living in a shack by the cliffs, holding onto a deed that proves Anderson Holdings owns stolen property. If that deed surfaces during the shareholder vote today, everything you own reverts back to them."
Maxwell lunged forward, but Thomas was faster. He slammed a heavy steel security toggle beside the door. With a heavy thud, the heavy emergency steel shutters dropped over every window and door on the yacht, sealing them inside a floating vault.
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"You can't lock us in here forever, Thomas," Maxwell said, glaring at his nephew across the narrow salon.
"I don't need to forever," Thomas replied smoothly, typing a rapid sequence into the satellite device. "Just long enough for the yacht's automated bilge system to malfunction. A tragic accident at sea. The billionaire and the intruder, lost in the morning fog."
