Chapter 3 - The Descent into the Vault
Ten minutes later, Lily was seated in the back of Victor’s armored Maybach with little Ethan safely resting in her lap, waiting for the pediatric transport team to escort them to Hawthorne Memorial. Victor had insisted that Lily accompany the boy, promising her that his personal medical staff would handle everything with absolute discretion.
Before getting into the vehicle to follow them, Victor turned back to his estate manager, Thomas, who had just rushed into the foyer.
"Thomas, secure the perimeter. No one enters, no one leaves. If Serena attempts to move a single suitcase out of this house before the forensics team arrives, lock her in the study," Victor ordered coldly.
"Yes, Mr. Blackwood," Thomas replied, casting a wary glance at Serena, who was now weeping hysterically against the marble pillar, her expensive designer dress smudged with dust.
Victor slid into the front seat of his secondary vehicle—a sleek, matte-black SUV carrying his head of corporate security, Marcus Vance.
"You heard Maria," Victor said, staring straight ahead through the tinted windshield as the convoy began to roll down the private driveway. "She mentioned deleted clips from the last three months. If Serena has been abusing my son while I was out securing mergers, I want to know every single detail. Not just the physical abuse—everything."
Marcus tapped away on a ruggedized military-grade laptop resting on his knees. "The basement server is isolated, boss. Even if she tried to wipe the interface remotely using her tablet, our hardwired fail-safes capture a raw bit-stream backup every four hours. I’ll have the full archive decrypted by the time we reach the hospital."
"Good," Victor muttered, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the leather armrest. "And Marcus? Dig deeper into her background. Serena Vance was introduced to me through high-society charity circles in Chicago. Her father claims they own half the shipping lanes in the Midwest. But something about how quickly she maneuvered herself into this engagement has bothered me for months."
"Already on it," Marcus replied, his fingers flying across the keyboard. "Running her social security number, historical corporate filings, and family asset audits through our private intelligence database right now."
As the vehicle sped through the glowing neon lights of the city skyline, Victor’s mind raced back to the day he had met Serena. It had been at a charity auction twelve months ago—just six months after the tragic, sudden death of Ethan’s mother under mysterious circumstances. Serena had played the part of the sophisticated, nurturing, philanthropic heiress to absolute perfection. She had showered Ethan with expensive imported toys, spoken eloquently about family values, and charmed every board member in the city.
May you like
Yet, looking back, the timeline was too clean. Too convenient.
Like a play written by a master manipulator.
