Chapter 15 - THE SHADOW AT THE WINDOWWith the truth fully unearthed, the entire paradigm of my life shifted. I wasn't the master of Greystone Manor; I was merely the current custodian of a stolen legacy.
I spent the next forty-eight hours drafting a comprehensive legal restructuring plan with my most trusted corporate attorneys, ensuring that fifty percent ownership of Vance Global and all estate properties were immediately transferred into an irrevocable trust for little Rosie, managed independently until she turned twenty-one.
It was late evening when I finally walked back into the grand drawing room. The estate was quiet. Rosie had been tucked into bed hours ago, her new stuffed rabbit clutched tightly in her arms.
I poured myself a glass of single-malt Scotch, walking over to the tall floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the sprawling front lawn. The November rain was beginning to pick up again, drumming a steady, rhythmic beat against the thick glass panes.
As I took a sip of the amber liquid, my reflection in the glass caught something moving outside in the shadows of the old oak trees near the front gates.
A single figure stood motionless beneath the flickering light of the security perimeter pole. Even through the sheets of rain and the hazy glass, I could see the silhouette: a tall, slender man wearing an expensive overcoat, holding a black umbrella, staring straight up at my study window.
It wasn't a reporter. And it wasn't a ghost from the past.
Before I could set my glass down on the mahogany table, the estate’s master alarm system suddenly shrieked to life, flashing a brilliant crimson warning across every computer terminal in the house.
Warning: Perimeter Breach. Main Gate Sensor Tripped. Encrypted Signal Override Detected.
Marco came sprinting down the grand staircase, his tactical sidearm already drawn. “Mr. Vance! Someone just forced the main electronic gate using an override code only active for executive board members!”
“Who?” I demanded, grabbing my own firearm from the secret compartment beneath the desk.
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“I don't know, sir,” Marco panted, staring at the main security monitor. “But they didn't come to break in. They came to deliver a message.”
On the central screen, the camera feed from the front gate showed a single object resting squarely on the stone pillar: a fresh, polished silver envelope tied with a black ribbon, exactly like the one that had started this entire nightmare.
