Chapter 34 - The Mother’s Ghost
The hydraulic lock engaged with a definitive, heavy thud. Outside, the muffled staccato of automatic gunfire vibrated through the reinforced steel, but the blast door held.
I leaned against the cold concrete wall of the private freight shaft, panting, clutching the encrypted satellite phone. My mother’s voice still echoed inside my skull, vibrating through every nerve ending. *Welcome to the throne, my sweet girl. I'll be seeing you very soon.*
"Ethan, talk to me," I demanded, leveling my gaze at him in the dim red emergency glow of the service corridor. "No more half-truths. No more corporate riddles. You worked for Arthur for seven years. Did you know she was alive?"
Ethan reloaded his sidearm with practiced, mechanical efficiency, his jaw clenched so tightly the muscles bunched under his skin. He didn't look at me until the magazine clicked into place.
"Arthur never told me she survived the wreckage in the Mediterranean," he said quietly. "He told me he spent a billion dollars erasing your digital footprint because Julian Vance had rogue ambitions. But three months ago, when Arthur realized the terminal diagnosis wasn't natural—when he realized his daily infusions had been poisoned with synthetic thallium—he handed me a second flash drive."
My breath hitched. "Poisoned? By whom?"
"The order came from an offshore entity registered under the name *Lachesis*," Ethan revealed, his eyes dark with grim fury. "Lachesis—the measurer of destiny in Greek mythology. Arthur whispered on his deathbed that the only person who used that codename was his wife, Evelyn Sterling. He realized too late that Vance was never the mastermind. Julian Vance was merely an attack dog holding a leash that led back to Geneva."
Tears pricked my eyes, but I forced them down, replacing sorrow with icy resolve. My entire childhood—the private tutors, the walled estates, the relentless training in international finance, corporate law, and forensic accounting—had not been Arthur's attempt to turn me into an heiress. It was an armored suit. He was preparing me for war against my own blood.
"She called me," I said, my voice hardening. "She watched the gala at the Plaza. She let me dismantle Julian Vance. Why?"
"Because Vance grew greedy," Ethan said, hitting the manual lever of the private freight lift that descended directly to the subterranean maintenance tunnels below 57th Street. "Vance thought he could seize the Sterling empire for himself. Your mother didn't protect him. She used you as her executioner to clean house. And now that Vance is eliminated and the empire is consolidated under your name..."
"She's coming to collect the dividend," I finished.
May you like
The elevator shuddered to a halt in the sub-basement. As the metal grate opened, the cold subterranean draft of New York’s forgotten catacombs greeted us. Waiting in the shadows was an unmarked, armored black SUV, its engine idling silently.
***
