Chapter 7 – The Escape from Blackwood

The flash of the gunshot illuminated the ruined lobby like a lightning strike.

But the blast didn’t come from Eleanor’s shotgun.

Julian hadn’t hesitated. He had fired a single, precise shot from his handgun.

Eleanor screamed as the bullet shattered the wooden stock of the shotgun in her hands, violently ripping the weapon from her grip. The shotgun clattered to the stone floor, completely useless.

Eleanor fell to her knees, clutching her stinging, bruised hands, sobbing hysterically in the dark.

Julian kept his gun raised, his eyes sweeping the shadows for any of Marcus’s other men. But they were alone. Marcus had truly sent his arrogant daughter to do his dirty work without backup.

“Mommy, it’s loud!” Leo cried, burying his face into my legs.

“I know, baby, it’s over,” I soothed, my hands shaking as I stroked his hair.

Julian lowered his weapon and walked immediately to his mother. He didn’t say a word. He just wrapped his arms around her frail body and held her so tightly she let out a small, breathless laugh.

“I’m here, Julian,” Evelyn whispered, tears finally falling down her lined face, burying her face in his shoulder. “I’m alive.”

“I thought I lost you,” Julian choked out, his broad shoulders shaking. The ruthless billionaire was completely gone, replaced by a son who had spent twenty years believing his mother abandoned him.

“I watched you grow up from the windows of this prison,” Evelyn told him softly. “Marcus kept me alive to torture your father, and then to ensure you never looked too deeply into the company’s past. But I knew you would come. When I saw the ferry ticket missing from my old jewelry box they brought me… I knew.”

Julian pulled back, looking at her with a fierce, protective determination.

“We are leaving. Now.”

Julian took his mother’s arm. I picked up Leo, holding him tightly against my chest.

I stopped next to Eleanor, who was still kneeling on the floor, weeping into her hands.

I looked down at the woman who had humiliated me in the ballroom just hours ago. She looked pathetic. Broken. A pawn in her father’s twisted game.

“Tell Marcus Croft I have the ledger,” Evelyn said coldly, looking down at Eleanor. “Tell him the ghosts he buried have come back to collect.”

We left Eleanor in the dark and hurried out the rusted front doors.

The sun was just beginning to break over the horizon of Lake Michigan, casting a pale, cold light over the ruined island.

We practically ran down the overgrown path to the docks.

The old captain was standing on the deck, looking at his watch. When he saw Evelyn, his eyes widened slightly, but he asked no questions. He simply helped us aboard and fired up the engine.

As the boat sped away from Blackwood Island, Julian sat beside his mother, holding her hand.

I sat across from them, wrapping Leo in the thick blanket.

Evelyn looked at me. She handed me the heavy, leather-bound Sterling Ledger.

“This belongs to your family, Clara,” Evelyn said quietly. “Arthur hid it the night he died. He entrusted it to me before Marcus found him. I hid it in the asylum.”

I ran my fingers over the worn leather. The weight of it in my hands felt monumental. This book was my father’s vindication. It was the key to taking back everything Marcus had stolen.

“What do we do now?” I asked, looking at Julian.

Julian’s face hardened. The emotional reunion was over. The CEO was back, and he was ready for war.

“Marcus called an emergency board meeting for 9:00 AM this morning,” Julian said, checking his heavy silver watch. “He is planning to officially strip me of my title and take control of the Vance empire.”

“He owns the board,” I reminded him. “They won’t listen to us.”

“They won’t have a choice,” Julian said coldly. “Because we aren’t just bringing the ledger.”

Julian pulled out his cell phone. Miraculously, there was a single bar of signal on the lake.

He dialed a number and put it on speaker.

“Director Hayes, FBI Organized Crime Division,” a crisp voice answered.

“Director, this is Julian Vance,” Julian said evenly.

“Mr. Vance. You’ve made quite the mess in Chicago tonight. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I have the Sterling Ledger,” Julian said. “The original documents proving Marcus Croft’s money laundering, extortion, and the murder of Arthur Sterling.”

A heavy silence fell over the line.

“Are you willing to turn it over?” the Director asked, his tone entirely serious now.

“On one condition,” Julian replied, looking directly at me. “You meet me in the boardroom of Vance Tower at 8:50 AM. We arrest Marcus Croft in front of his entire empire.”

“Understood,” the Director said, and hung up.

Julian put his phone away. He looked at me, a fierce, undeniable respect in his eyes.

“When we walk into that boardroom,” Julian said softly, “you are not walking in behind me, Clara. You are walking in beside me.”

My heart hammered against my ribs.

I looked down at my black maid’s uniform. It was stained with dirt and ash from the asylum.

“I look like the help,” I whispered.

Evelyn Vance reached out and gently touched my cheek.

“My dear,” Evelyn smiled, her eyes shining with quiet power. “Queens have worn far worse into battle.”