Chapter 10 - The Unmarked Envelope
The celebration lasted until midnight, but the quiet of my new Lake Shore Drive penthouse was what I truly craved.
The residence was entirely mine. High above the illuminated city, the expansive glass windows offered a panoramic view of the dark, majestic waters of Lake Michigan. There were no traces of Dominic here. No lingering cologne, no deceit, no condescension.
I hung my emerald gown in the walk-in closet, slipped into a soft cashmere robe, and poured a cup of herbal tea.
As I walked back into the living room, my phone chimed on the marble kitchen island. It was a text message from Marcus Thorne, head of security:
*Madam CEO, an courier just delivered a priority envelope directly to the building concierge. It was marked strictly confidential and personal for Eleanor Vance. It bypassed our front desk protocols because it bore the wax seal of the late Julian Vance Estate.*
My heart skipped a sudden, violent beat.
*The Julian Vance Estate?*
My father had died seven years ago in an unexplained single-vehicle crash on Interstate 90, just six months before Dominic had founded Vale Logistics with an unexpected, anonymous influx of seed capital. For seven years, Dominic had always claimed that money was an angel investment from an old college friend.
"Send it up immediately, Marcus," I texted back, my fingers trembling slightly.
Three minutes later, Marcus personally handed me a thick, yellowed manila envelope stamped with an antique wax seal bearing my family's crest.
I carried it over to my desk, my pulse pounding against my ribs like a war drum.
I broke the wax seal and tipped the contents onto the blotter.
May you like
Out fell a small, tarnished brass key, a series of faded bank routing receipts dating back eight years, and a handwritten letter penned on heavy parchment in my father’s unmistakable, sloping handwriting.
***
