Chapter 5 - The Last Card
Hook: A desperate man doesn't look for an exit; he looks for a match to burn the whole place down.
Three weeks passed.
The transition of power at Thorne Enterprises—now rebranded back to its original name, Vance Global—was seamless. The market responded to Callahan’s departure with a ten percent surge in our stock price. The press coverage had been brutal, but not for me.
The headlines had been ruthless: “CHRONICLES OF A CORPORATE PARASITE: CALLAHAN THORNE FIRED FOR EMBEZZLEMENT FIFTEEN MINUTES AFTER DIVORCE.” “KENSINGTON HOLDINGS ON THE VERGE OF COLLAPSE AFTER VANCE TAKEOVER.”
I spent my days in my new office on the top floor, working late into the night, rebuilding the partnerships Callahan had damaged. I felt lighter, stronger, and more alive than I had in a decade.
But a man like Callahan Thorne doesn’t go quietly into the night.
It was a Tuesday evening, around nine o'clock. The offices were mostly empty, the cleaning staff working on the lower levels. I was at my desk, reviewing a merger agreement, when my private line rang.
I picked it up, expecting it to be Arthur.
“Saraphina,” a voice said.
It was Callahan. But his voice didn’t sound angry anymore. It sounded hollow, raspy, and dangerously calm.
“Callahan,” I said, my hand instinctively tightening on the receiver. “How did you get this number? It’s been changed.”
“I still have friends in IT, Saraphina. Or rather, I had them. They’re all gone now, aren’t they? Everyone is gone.”
“This call is being recorded,” I warned him. “And you are violating your restraining order.”
“I don’t care about the restraining order,” he laughed, a dry, rattling sound. “I don’t care about the lawsuits, or the money, or the Kensington family. Do you know what Thomas did? He threw Brier and me out of his house. He blamed us for his bankruptcy. He told his own daughter she was a mistake.”
“That’s between you and your new family, Callahan. Goodbye.”
“Don’t hang up,” he whispered. “If you hang up, you’ll never find out what’s in the vault.”
I paused, my finger hovering over the end-call button. “What vault?”
“The private safe in the Hamptons house,” he said. “The one beneath the library floorboard. You thought you cleared everything out, didn’t you? But you missed the ledger. Your father’s ledger.”
My heart skipped a beat.
My father had been a brilliant businessman, but he had lived in an era when the rules were... different. There had always been rumors of a private ledger, a record of the early days of the Vance Group before it became a public entity.
“You’re bluffing,” I said, though my voice lacked its usual conviction.
“Am I? Why don’t you check the security feed for the Hamptons house right now, Saraphina? I’m standing in the library. And I have a can of gasoline in my left hand, and your father’s ledger in my right.”
I stood up from my desk, my chair scraping loudly against the floor. I quickly pulled up the security application on my tablet, navigating to the Hamptons property.
The screen flickered to life.
The library was dark, illuminated only by the pale light of a flashlight resting on the desk. And there, standing in the center of the room, was Callahan. He looked unkempt, his hair wild, his expensive clothes wrinkled and stained. In one hand, he held a thick, leather-bound book with my father’s initials embossed in gold.
In his other hand, he held a plastic container of accelerant.
“What do you want, Callahan?” I asked, my voice shaking slightly as I watched him spill a stream of liquid over the antique Persian rug.
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“I want you to come here,” he said. “Alone. No police. No lawyers. Just you and me, Saraphina. One last meeting of the board. If you’re not here in two hours, I’m burning this house, the ledger, and myself to ash. Let’s see how your precious legacy survives that.”
The line went dead.
