Chapter 3 - The Forgotten Vault
Nora awoke the next morning in a bedroom larger than the entire ground floor of her father’s house. Sunlight poured through floor-to-ceiling French windows, illuminating cream-colored silk drapes, antique mahogany furniture, and a private balcony overlooking the shimmering Charleston harbor. On a velvet settee near the foot of the king-sized bed rested a brand-new emerald-green morning robe tailored precisely to her curves, alongside a delicate silver tray carrying fresh coffee, warm croissants, and a handwritten note.
Rest as long as you need. When you are ready, join me in the library. Justice is waiting. — G.V.
Nora showered, slipping into the green robe. For the first time in ten years, she looked in the full-length mirror without hearing Celeste’s mocking critiques echoing in her mind. Her curves were soft, her skin glowing, her dark hair tumbling over her shoulders in thick waves. She squared her shoulders and walked down the sweeping spiral staircase.
A butler guided her to a sprawling mahogany library lined with thousands of leather-bound books. Gabriel sat behind a massive desk covered in thick legal folders, bank statements, and blueprints. Seated across from him was an older man in a tailored pinstripe suit, adjusting his spectacles over a stack of yellowed documents.
""Good morning, Nora,"" Gabriel said, rising instantly to his feet and pulling out a plush leather armchair for her. ""This is Arthur Vance. He was your mother’s personal attorney twenty years ago—until Celeste Bellamy paid him a visit claiming he was dismissed.""
Arthur Vance looked at Nora with tears in his aged eyes. ""My dear child... look at you. You have June’s exact eyes. For years, I attempted to reach you after your father died, but Celeste informed me you had moved to Europe to study art and wanted no contact with the estate.""
Nora’s breath hitched. ""I never left Charleston. I was locked in the workroom behind the garage.""
Arthur slammed his hand onto the desk in righteous fury. ""That wretched woman! Nora, your mother knew her illness was terminal long before she let on. She knew your father was weak-willed and easily manipulated by Celeste. Three months before she passed, June created an irrevocable family trust in your name alone. It contained the deed to the downtown atelier building, the copyrights to all her signature patterns, and a private safe deposit box at the Charleston Merchant Bank.""
Gabriel slid a folder toward Nora. ""My men obtained the bank’s security logs two hours ago. Celeste attempted to drill that safe deposit box six times over the past decade, but the bank's protocol required a biometric palm print and a unique sequence only June and Nora knew.""
Nora’s mind raced back to her childhood. She remembered sitting on the floor of her mother’s sewing room, watching June sew hidden pockets into her winter coats. “Always keep what is precious close to your skin, little wren,” her mother had whispered, tapping Nora’s palm before kissing it.
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""I know the code,"" Nora whispered, her voice trembling. ""It’s the date she finished the first camellia embroidery.""
Gabriel stood up, buttoning his vest, his eyes gleaming with lethal satisfaction. ""Then let us pay a visit to the bank before your stepmother realizes the ground has already disappeared beneath her feet.""
