Chapter 14 - THE INTERROGATION IN THE VAULTThe sub-basement vault smelled of cold concrete, old paper, and cordite. The heavy steel door was locked tight, sealing off the underground bunker from the rest of the estate.
Julian Vance sat chained to a heavy iron chair bolted directly into the foundation floorboards. His expensive European cloak was ruined, stained with plaster dust and blood from his guard's collateral wounds. He glared across the metal interrogation table at Roman and Elena, who sat under the harsh glare of a single overhead tungsten bulb.
You can keep me down here until the foundation crumbles, Julian snarled, his voice raspy from smoke inhalation. The European council knows I'm here. If I don't check in by sunrise, a contingency protocol activates. Every offshore account linked to Marino Holdings—and every front company Elena set up—will be liquidated and flagged for international terrorism.
Roman leaned forward, resting his forearms on the metal table. His eyes were cold, stripped of every trace of human warmth.
Let them try, Roman said softly. Because by sunrise, the European council won't have a leadership structure left to activate anything.
Julian sneered. What are you talking about?
Elena slid a thick manila folder across the metal table, flipping it open to reveal a series of high-resolution satellite photographs, encrypted wire transfer receipts, and architectural blueprints of a heavily fortified compound in the Swiss Alps.
We’re talking about Zurich, Julian, Elena said, her voice like cracking ice. You thought your communications were secure because you routed them through military-grade satellite links in Geneva. But you forgot that my father built those communication networks before he handed them over to you.
Julian’s face went completely pale. His eyes darted across the documents, recognizing the cryptographic signatures instantly.
You... you accessed the central node, Julian whispered, horror creeping into his voice.
I didn't just access it, Elena stood up, walking slowly around the chair until she stood directly behind him, leaning down so her lips were inches from his ear. I downloaded every ledger, every bribe log, and every asset location belonging to the twelve members of the council. And right now, David is distributing those files to Interpol and every rival syndicate from London to Tokyo.
Julian struggled against the iron chains, the metal links clanking sharply in the quiet vault. You're destroying the family! You're destroying everything we built!
We aren't destroying the family, Roman added, standing up to join his wife. We’re just evicting the tenants who forgot who actually owns the building.
The heavy steel door swung open, and Marco stepped into the vault, holding a secure satellite phone out toward Roman.
It's David, Marco said grimly. He’s patched in from Zurich. The council’s primary accounts have just been frozen by Swiss authorities. They're scattering.
Roman took the phone, holding it to his ear while keeping his eyes locked on Julian’s terrified face.
Talk to me, David, Roman said.
We hit the hornet's nest, David’s voice crackled through the secure speaker, faint over static and heavy wind. Half the council is on the run toward the Italian border. But Julian’s chief enforcer, a guy named Moreau, managed to slip away before we locked down the compound. He took something with him.
What did he take? Roman asked, his jaw tightening.
The cryptographic keys to the secondary trust fund, David said. The one Elena set up to secure baby Clara’s future. If Moreau reaches the offshore server in Malta within twelve hours, he can strip every cent you own and leave you legally bankrupt.
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Roman lowered the phone slowly. He looked at Elena. She hadn't flinch; her eyes had narrowed into dark, dangerous slits of pure tactical focus.
Looks like we're going to Europe, Elena said.
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