Chapter 6 - The Ledger
Charles did not show fear.
A Vance never showed fear, especially when descending into the basement of his own estate. The basement was soundproofed. It was where the family handled business that required messy, loud negotiations.
Charles walked down the concrete steps, the rusted deposit box key burning a hole against his thigh.
Marcus was waiting by a stainless steel table, slowly wiping a pair of thick framed glasses with a silk handkerchief. Two enforcers stood in the shadows.
“The maid escaped,” Marcus said mildly, slipping the glasses onto his face. “Quite a leap for a woman carrying a child.”
“She panicked,” Charles said, stopping ten feet away. He kept his posture relaxed, his hands loose at his sides. “I told her she was going to jail for trespassing. What do you want, Marcus? It’s late.”
Marcus sighed. “I wanted to protect you, Charlie. I really did. I promised your father I would guide you. But you’ve grown… soft.”
“Soft?”
“You’re investigating the route 9 crash again,” Marcus stated. It wasn't a question. “My men at the precinct told me you requested the old files last week.”
Charles kept his face impassive. He had requested the files, quietly, after noticing discrepancies in the family accounts that traced back almost two decades.
“I like my records complete,” Charles replied smoothly.
“Penny was a tragic accident,” Marcus said, taking a step forward. “She stole from your father, Charles. She was going to hand our ledgers to the Feds. She would have destroyed this entire family.”
“So you killed her,” Charles said quietly.
There was no point in denying it anymore. The air in the room shifted.
Marcus didn't flinch. “I saved you. Your father couldn't give the order. He loved her too much. So he gave me his watch, looked the other way, and let me do what was necessary.”
Charles felt a sickening twist in his gut. His father had known.
“But the fire didn't finish the job, did it?” Charles pressed, piecing the puzzle together aloud. “Penny got away. She gave her jewelry to a gas station attendant. A kid named David Parker. Where is David, Marcus?”
Marcus smiled thinly. “Buried under the foundation of the new casino downtown. He was a brave boy. Refused to tell me where she ran.”
Charles’s vision tunneled. Emily’s brother. Murdered by the man standing in front of him.
“And Penny?” Charles asked, his voice deadly quiet.
“She ran well,” Marcus admitted. “It took me nearly a year to track her down to a little clinic in Ohio. But by the time my men arrived, she had died of pneumonia. The ironic tragedy of living in poverty. But she didn't die alone.”
Marcus snapped his fingers.
One of the enforcers stepped forward, holding a tablet. He handed it to Charles.
On the screen was live security footage.
It was Charles’s personal driver, unconscious on the steering wheel of the black town car.
Emily and Toby were nowhere to be seen.
“Your driver is fiercely loyal,” Marcus mused. “But my men intercepted them at the gates. We have the maid and the boy.”
Charles’s heart stopped. He had sent them right into a trap.
“The boy,” Marcus continued, his eyes gleaming with a sick, victorious light. “I saw his eyes upstairs. I knew immediately. Penny didn't just run from the family, Charles. She ran because she was pregnant. That boy is your nephew.”
Charles stared at the screen. The stormy gray eyes. The arrogant chin.
Toby wasn't Emily’s adopted son. He was Penny’s child. Emily had raised her dead brother's only connection to the tragedy.
“Bring them to me,” Charles ordered, his voice echoing off the concrete walls.
“I don't think so,” Marcus chuckled. “The maid stole my ledger, Charles. The one outlining all my private, supplementary income over the last twenty years. I need it back.”
“You’ve been stealing from me.”
“I’ve been taxing you for my services,” Marcus corrected. “Now, here is the deal. You are going to sign over the Southside territory to me tonight. You will officially retire. If you do, I will let the maid, the boy, and your crazy mother walk away.”
“And if I don't?”
Marcus’s smile vanished. “Then the boy goes to an orphanage, the maid joins her brother under a casino, and your mother receives a very high dose of her evening medication.”
Charles looked at Marcus. He looked at the two armed enforcers.
Then, Charles did something Marcus didn't expect.
He laughed.
It was a dark, chilling sound that made the enforcers shift uncomfortably.
“You’re getting old, Marcus,” Charles said, dropping the tablet onto the steel table. “You rely too much on guns and leverage. You forgot who trained me.”
Charles reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. Not the burner. His actual, encrypted secure phone.
He pressed one button.
Suddenly, the heavy steel door at the top of the basement stairs blasted open with a deafening crash.
Dozens of laser sights painted the basement walls, cutting through the darkness. Heavy boots swarmed down the stairs.
These weren't Marcus’s men.
They wore tactical gear, heavily armed, with the Vance crest stitched onto their vests. Charles’s elite personal guard. The ones who didn't take orders from Marcus.
“Drop the weapons!” the captain shouted.
Marcus’s enforcers immediately dropped their guns, raising their hands.
Marcus stared at Charles, his face pale. “How?”
“I knew you were stealing from me three months ago,” Charles said coldly, walking slowly toward Marcus. “I’ve been quietly replacing your loyalists with mine. Tonight was just about finding out why you killed my sister.”
Charles grabbed Marcus by the throat and slammed him against the concrete wall.
“Where are they?” Charles snarled, pressing his forearm against Marcus’s windpipe. “Where are Emily and the boy?”
May you like
Marcus gasped for air, but a twisted grin stretched across his face.
“You... you have the house, Charlie,” Marcus choked out. “But I have the boy. My men didn't bring them inside. They took them to the rail yard. If I don't call them in ten minutes... they put them on a freight train to Mexico. You’ll never see them again.”
