Plot

Chapter 4 - The Cellar Interrogation

The wine cellar beneath the Vale estate had not held vintage Bordeaux in twenty years. Behind a heavy reinforced steel door lay a soundproofed concrete bunker equipped with nothing more than two wooden chairs bolted to the floor and a harsh overhead industrial bulb.

Victor Shaw and Grant Mercer were seated on the chairs, their wrists zip-tied securely behind them. Two stone-faced guards stood against the wall, submachine guns slung across their chests.

When Adrian walked into the room, the heavy iron door slammed shut with a deafening thud that made Grant Mercer flinch so hard he nearly tipped his chair over. The young associate was sweating profusely, his expensive silk tie loosened, his eyes wild with sheer terror. Victor, on the other hand, maintained a strained facade of professional outrage.

""Adrian, this is unhinged!"" Victor declared, trying to project legal authority. ""I am your legal counsel! Holding us against our will constitutes kidnapping and false imprisonment! Whatever happened with Natalie’s car is between you and her! You cannot treat officers of the court like common street thugs!""

Adrian didn't raise his voice. He dragged a metal chair across the concrete, the screech echoing against the walls, and sat down three feet in front of Victor.

""You've worked for me for eleven years, Victor,"" Adrian began quietly. ""You know how I operate. You know that I forgive business mistakes. I forgive financial losses. I even forgive occasional stupidity. But you know the one thing that carries an automatic death sentence in my house.""

Victor swallowed hard, the color draining rapidly from his cheeks.

Adrian reached out and smoothly extracted the leather wallet and phone from Grant Mercer’s jacket. Then, he slid his hand deeper into Grant’s breast pocket. His fingers closed around the small, dark object Maisie had witnessed: an encrypted military-grade USB drive and a duplicate digital key fob for Natalie’s SUV.

Adrian held up the key fob. He pressed the unlock button. A distinct electronic beep sounded from the driveway monitors above.

""The lock malfunctioned, Victor?"" Adrian asked softly, his gaze locked onto the older lawyer. ""She handed the working master fob to your boy Grant right after she walked away from the car. If anyone checked the car later, she would have held up a defective, dead dummy remote and cried about tragic electronic failure.""

Grant Mercer broke completely. Tears streamed down his pale cheeks. ""I didn't know the baby was inside! I swear to God, Mr. Vale! Victor told me to take the flash drive and the key from Natalie and wipe the vehicle's onboard GPS logs! I thought it was just about planting false evidence for the custody hearing tomorrow! I didn't know Owen was in the backseat! Please don't kill me!""

""Shut up, you fool!"" Victor snapped, his composure crumbling into panic.

Adrian leaned forward until his face was inches from Victor's. ""What was on that flash drive, Victor? Why were you wiping the SUV's GPS?""

Victor pressed his lips together, refusing to answer.

Adrian stood up and nodded to Marcus. Marcus stepped forward, produced a heavy pair of tactical shears, and placed the blades around Victor’s left pinky finger.

""Wait! Wait!"" Victor screamed, his dignity instantly evaporating into pathetic begging. ""Don't! Adrian, please! I'll tell you everything! It wasn't my idea! It was Natalie! Natalie planned the whole thing from the very beginning!""

""Talk,"" Adrian commanded.

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""The car accident eight months ago,"" Victor sobbed, trembling violently. ""Caroline’s car didn't lose control on the icy mountain pass by accident. Natalie tampered with the brake lines in your private garage! She had debts—massive underground gambling debts in Macau that were going to get her killed! She needed Caroline’s eighty-million-dollar trust fund! But when Caroline died, you had custody of Owen, which meant you controlled the money! She couldn't touch a single dollar unless you were deemed unfit or Owen died!""

Adrian’s breath hitched in his chest. His late wife, the mother of his child, the woman he had loved more than life itself... had been murdered by her own sister.

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