Chapter 4 - The Ransom of Elena Vance
The ballroom became a tomb of terror. Wealthy executives cowered beneath tables; socialites wept quietly into their designer gowns; politicians frantically dialed numbers on dead cell phones that had lost signal the moment Marcus's team jammed the local cellular towers.
Marcus walked slowly down the center aisle, his eyes never leaving Claire.
""You know, Elena,"" Marcus said, using her real first name with deliberate cruelty, ""your parents fought us tooth and nail. They thought hiding you in some middle-class military family would keep you safe. But blood always calls to blood.""
Richard's jaw tightened until the muscles throbbed. ""You won't touch her.""
""I won't have to touch her if she comes quietly,"" Marcus replied, stopping ten feet away. He pulled a heavy titanium zip-tie from his jacket pocket. ""We need her signature to legally dissolve the remaining Vance trust holdings. Once she signs over the controlling shares of Vance Defense Systems to our syndicate, she can live... or she can die right here on this floor. The choice is entirely hers.""
Claire looked around the room. She saw Daniel, pale and trembling on the floor. She saw Evelyn, cowering behind a marble pillar, praying only for her own survival. She saw hundreds of people she had smiled at, danced with, and poured champagne for over the last three years—people who now wouldn't even meet her eyes.
Then she looked at her father.
Richard gave her a single, imperceptible shake of his head. Not yet.
Claire took a deep breath. The fear that had paralyzed her moments before suddenly melted away, replaced by the cold, tactical clarity she had inherited from the man who raised her.
""You want my signature?"" Claire asked, her voice steady, clear, and devoid of tears.
Marcus grinned. ""I knew you were smart.""
""You'll get it,"" Claire said, taking one step forward. ""But not here. Not in front of witnesses who will become liabilities. Take me to your primary comms center in the city. We can execute the transfer securely.""
May you like
Marcus narrowed his eyes, suspicious. ""You're giving up just like that?""
""I've spent twenty-one years running,"" Claire said, looking him dead in the eye. ""I'm tired of running. But if I go with you, my father stays here. He has nothing to do with Vance International anymore.""
