Chapter 8 - The Zurich Locker and the Hidden Dossier
"Switzerland?" Gwen repeated, her skepticism dripping from every syllable. "Really, Sarah? Are we pivoting from estate fraud to international espionage now? Do you expect me to believe that our dead, narcissistic real estate developer father left some sort of secret treasure map in a Swiss bank?"
Sarah shook her head frantically, pulling a crumpled manila folder from her oversized straw tote bag and dropping it onto a side table. "Look at it yourself. I managed to get access through a court-appointed liquidator before the Swiss accounts were frozen. Dad wasn't just a local developer, Gwen. The money he accumulated wasn't built on standard commercial real estate. It came from land acquisitions tied to a massive corporate scandal back in the nineties—a scandal involving our mother’s family."
Gwen refused to touch the folder. She kept her arms crossed tightly over her chest, glaring at the papers sitting innocently on the wooden table. "I don't care about his scandals, Sarah. He’s dead. Ethan is in federal prison. Lauren and I have built a safe, peaceful life for Maya. Why are you dragging this back up? What do you actually want?"
"Protection," Sarah whispered, her voice cracking with genuine panic. "When the federal investigators seized Dad’s secondary assets, they didn't just find bank accounts. They found documentation proving that someone else—a former business partner who was supposedly bought out decades ago—has been tracking our family line. They know about the genetic markers. They know about Maya."
Gwen’s breath caught in her throat. The casual mention of Maya sent a spike of pure, adrenalized terror straight down her spine. "What does that mean? Who is tracking her?"
Before Sarah could answer, the front bell of the studio chimed again.
May you like
The door swung wide open, revealing a tall, impeccably dressed man in a charcoal tailored suit standing in the threshold. He wasn't wearing a badge, but the cold, calculating expression in his eyes and the expensive titanium briefcase in his right hand signaled a level of corporate menace that made Sarah turn completely white.
"Good morning, ladies," the man said smoothly, stepping inside and closing the door behind him with a gentle, deliberate click. "I apologize for interrupting your family reunion. But I believe you have something belonging to my employer—something regarding the genetic lineage of the Haven Park trust."
