Chapter 17 - THE TRAP CLOSES"Thomas," I whispered, my voice ice-cold as adrenaline surged through my veins. "You used me."
"I gave you the tools to destroy the man who tried to murder you," Thomas Vance replied smoothly, his tone calm and unbothered. "Julian was becoming reckless. He wanted too much, too fast, and he drew unnecessary federal attention. I simply needed a clean slate. And who better to tear down the old guard than a brilliant woman seeking vengeance for her family's legacy?"
"You killed my father, didn't you?" I asked, my grip tightening around the old photograph until my knuckles turned white.
"Your father was a stubborn man, Clara. He refused to launder money through the real estate trust," Vance said coldly. "So we arranged a very convenient, accidental fall. Just like we tried to arrange for you."
"And now what?" I challenged, my mind racing through every possible escape route while keeping him talking. "You think you win? I have the journal. I have your name written in my father's own handwriting."
"A journal written twenty-five years ago by a deceased man with no digital footprint?" Vance chuckled softly on the other end of the line. "Who do you think the federal authorities are going to believe, Clara? A corrupt corporate executive's grieving widow, or the decorated head of the Major Financial Crimes Unit who just dismantled the biggest white-collar syndicate in the country?"
Before I could answer, the heavy wooden front door of my father’s workshop blew open with a violent crash.
Heavy footsteps echoed across the floorboards.
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Through the glass window of the workshop door, I saw three armed men in black tactical gear stepping inside, their weapons raised.
"Don't bother running, Clara," Vance’s voice purred through the phone just before the line disconnected with a sharp click. "Enjoy the scenery. It's your last."
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