Chapter 4 - ENEMY OF MY ENEMY
Inside an underground bunker beneath the shipping yard, Victor sat behind a heavy steel desk, swirling a glass of whiskey as he examined the data from Thomas Miller’s micro-SD card.
The room was filled with computer monitors displaying real-time financial tracking, satellite feeds, and police scanner frequencies.
“Thomas Miller was smarter than I thought,” Victor murmured, tapping his fingers on the desk. “He managed to extract the original offshore account logs. This proves that Julian’s father, Arthur Vance, forged my signature on those embezzlement papers fifteen years ago.”
“They took everything from you, Uncle Victor,” Clara said, standing across from him. “Your reputation, your family, your legacy. And now Julian is doing the exact same thing to me. Tomorrow, he officially merges Vance Enterprises and Sterling Global into a single entity. Once that happens, the Vance family will be untouchable.”
Victor looked up, his sharp eyes narrowing at his niece. “And what do you expect me to do? Send my men to shoot Julian in the head? That won’t get your company back, Clara. That will just put you in prison forever.”
“No,” Clara replied, a ruthless smile spreading across her lips. “I don’t want him dead. I want him ruined. I want him to lose every dollar, every ally, and every shred of dignity he possesses.”
“I like your spirit,” Victor chuckled, taking a sip of his drink. “You have more of my blood in you than your soft-hearted mother ever did. But we have a problem.”
Victor turned one of the monitors toward Clara. It showed a live feed of the Manhattan Financial District.
“Julian isn’t working alone,” Victor explained. “He’s backed by The Apex Group—a syndicate of corrupt billionaires who buy up companies, bankrupt them, and hide the assets in Swiss shell accounts. Julian promised them Sterling Global’s $10 billion energy patents. If you try to crash the stock, Apex will simply buy up all the floating shares and bail Julian out.”
Clara frowned. “So how do we stop Apex?”
“We hit them where it hurts,” Victor said, pulling up a security profile on his screen. “Tomorrow night, Julian is throwing a victory gala at the Metropolitan Hotel to celebrate the merger. The heads of Apex will all be in that ballroom. Julian plans to present the signed original merger contract to the board live on television.”
“Where is the original contract right now?” Clara asked.
“In Julian’s personal vault at the Vance Tower,” Victor answered. “Guarded by biometric locks, armed contractors, and an unhackable network.”
Clara looked at the monitor, then turned back to Victor. “Then we aren’t going to hide anymore. We are going to break into Vance Tower and steal it.”
Mark, who was standing by the door, gasped. “Clara, that’s suicide! Vance Tower is a fortress!”
“It’s only a fortress if you don’t have the master key,” Clara said calmly. She pulled out her phone and opened a file she had saved months ago when she and Julian were planning their life together.
“Julian was arrogant,” Clara said. “He used a custom biometric passkey program designed by my mother’s company. He told me it was named after his favorite horse. But I checked the source code last night—the master bypass code isn’t a word. It’s my mother’s birthdate.”
Victor leaned back in his chair, a genuine grin breaking across his scarred face. “He kept the backdoor open because he was too lazy to rewrite the architecture.”
“Exactly,” Clara said. “He built his entire empire on our family’s technology. Now, we’re going to use it to shut him down.”
Suddenly, the bunker’s red alarm lights began to flash. Siren sounds echoed through the underground hallways.
One of Victor’s men rushed into the room, covered in sweat. “Boss! We’ve got a breach! Black-ops mercenary vehicles just breached the perimeter of the shipyard!”
Victor’s face went deadly serious. He looked at Clara. “How did they find this place?”
Clara’s eyes widened in horror as she realized. She turned around to look at the backseat of the vehicle where Lily had been resting.
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Standing near the hallway door, Lily was holding a small, silver stuffed bear—the same toy she had carried from her burned home. From the bear’s plastic eye, a tiny red tracking light was blinking steadily.
“Julian didn’t just burn her house,” Clara whispered in terror. “He planted a tracker on the child before she escaped!”
