Chapter 22 - A Divided Alliance
The two men stepped through the frosted glass doors of the executive wing with the slow, calculated arrogance of men who had never known consequence. They were impeccably dressed in charcoal Savile Row suits, their lapels adorned with silver lapel pins bearing the twin falcon crest of the Valmont house.
The taller of the two, an older man with silvering temples and predatory gray eyes, stepped forward and bowed with mock courtliness.
"Miss Ava Vance," he spoke in a cultured French accent that could not mask the venom beneath. "I am Henri Laurent, personal counsel to Lord Marcus Valmont. We apologize for interrupting your triumph, but sovereign matters take precedence over civic parties."
"You are trespassing on private corporate property, Monsieur Laurent," I answered, stepping past Ethan's shoulder so I met the man eye to eye. "Diplomatic immunity does not grant you license to intimidate an architect in her own headquarters."
Laurent smiled, a cold, thin slit across his face. "We are not here to intimidate, Miss Vance. We are here to retrieve state documents that never belonged to your late father. The Valmont sovereign council has already purchased forty-two percent of Montgomery's liquidated portfolio—including the proprietary rights to the Saint-Germain blueprint and all underlying Vance patents."
Maya stepped forward, clutching her tablet. "That liquidation was frozen by the federal district court three days ago!"
"In your domestic jurisdiction, young lady, yes," Laurent sneered dismissively. "In Monaco and Zurich, however, the sovereign trust remains supreme. The letter in your hand contains proprietary codes that belong to Marcus Valmont. Hand it over, and we will allow you to complete the Marina Bay build as an honorary contractor. Refuse, and your firm will be tied in international injunctions until every dollar of your capital is bled dry."
The threat was naked, absolute, and designed to crush my spirit. For a fleeting second, the sheer scale of the global empire arrayed against me threatened to press the air from my lungs.
Then Ethan stepped forward.
"You're out of your depth, Laurent," Ethan said, his voice flat, dangerously cold.
Laurent raised an eyebrow in condescending amusement. "And who might this be? The disgraced former spouse who couldn't even keep his wife's dinner on the shelf?"
I flinched, but Ethan did not blink. The barb, meant to shame him into silence, struck only hardened armor.
"I am the managing director of the maritime logistical authority holding the lease on every square foot of the harbor docks your yachts rely upon," Ethan answered, stepping directly into Laurent's space, towering over him. "And five minutes ago, Eleanor Hayes informed the federal maritime marshals that your diplomatic jet at the municipal airport was fueled through an unauthorized offshore shell account linked directly to Richard Montgomery's frozen assets."
Laurent’s smug expression flickered. A tiny crack formed in his polished veneer.
"You have ten minutes to clear this building," Ethan added, his eyes locked onto Laurent's throat. "Or you won't be flying back to Monte Carlo tonight. You'll be explaining money laundering to the United States Department of Justice."
Laurent glared at Ethan, then turned his gaze back to me, the polite veneer vanishing entirely. "This is not over, Ava Vance. Marcus Valmont does not lose. When you open that safe, you will see what your father really was."
With a sharp flick of his hand, Laurent signaled his bodyguard, and the two men retreated down the corridor into the shadows of the fire escape.
I let out a shuddering breath, leaning against the mahogany console table. My hand was shaking. Ethan turned to me, his gaze softening with profound concern, yet he refrained from touching me, honoring the boundaries of the freedom I had fought so hard to claim.
"Are you all right?" he asked quietly.
May you like
I looked down at the receipt in my hand. "We have to go to the vault, Ethan. Tonight. Before Marcus Valmont burns the city to the ground to reach it."
***
