Chapter 4 - THE STRANGER IN THE HAT
The dark note sat on the glass coffee table in Richard’s private library, illuminated by the harsh light of a desk lamp.
Sitting around the table were Richard, Mark, and Detective Thomas Vance—no relation to the family, but a trusted veteran investigator with the city police department who had handled high-profile corporate cases for Richard in the past.
"The paper is custom-made linen stock," Detective Thomas said, examining the note with gloved hands. "No fingerprints, as expected. The ink is iron gall—old-fashioned, hand-mixed. Whoever wrote this took his time."
"What does it mean, Richard?" Mark asked, leaning forward, his fingers twitching anxiously. "The debt of twenty years ago? What happened twenty years ago?"
Richard stared at the note, his mind racing through the dark, buried corridors of his past. Twenty years ago, Vance Global had been a mid-sized construction firm struggling to break into the commercial real estate market. It was the year Richard had secured the contract for the massive Maritime Harbor Project—the deal that transformed him from a comfortable businessman into a billionaire titan.
"Twenty years ago was the harbor expansion," Richard said slowly, his voice low. "It was a tough time. Aggressive negotiations, bitter rivalries. But I didn't steal from anyone. I bought those properties legally."
"What about your old partner?" Mark asked softly.
Richard’s head snapped up. "Arthur Sterling?"
"The surname matches," Detective Thomas noted sharply, pulling out a notepad. "Your disgraced ex-bride's name is Vanessa Sterling. Are you telling me there's a connection?"
Richard felt a cold sweat break out across his neck. "Arthur Sterling was my founding partner. Twenty years ago, during the harbor deal, Arthur was accused of massive embezzlement from our operating accounts. Millions vanished. The evidence against him was overwhelming. When the federal prosecutors stepped in, Arthur fled the country. Two years later, we received reports that he had died in a boating accident off the coast of Belize."
"And did he have children?" Thomas asked.
"He had a son," Richard remembered, the memories rushing back like a toxic tide. "A little boy. He was eight or nine at the time. His name was Julian."
The room went completely dead silent.
"Julian..." Richard repeated, the name echoing in his head. "Emily heard Vanessa talking on the phone to someone named Julian."
"My God," Mark breathed, slumping back into his leather chair. "Vanessa isn't just some greedy gold-digger who stumbled into your life. She was a plant. She was sent here by Arthur Sterling’s son!"
"It was a long game," Thomas analyzed, his tone grim. "Get a young, gorgeous woman into your personal life. Fake a pregnancy to rush a wedding. Get you to sign a legal marriage certificate and a modified estate agreement that secured financial payouts upon the birth of an heir. If she had successfully faked the birth or an 'unfortunate miscarriage' after securing the legal status, she could have drained tens of millions from your personal accounts."
"And Julian Sterling was directing her from the shadows," Richard said, his fists clenching so hard his knuckles turned white. "He wanted to ruin me financially. He wanted revenge for his father."
"We need to interrogate Vanessa right now," Mark insisted, standing up abruptly. "She's in the villa. Make her spill everything she knows about Julian!"
"Agreed," Thomas said, grabbing his coat.
They left the library and crossed the darkened, rain-swept courtyard toward the guest villa on the eastern edge of the estate. Two private security guards stood outside the grand double doors of the villa.
"Is she still inside?" Richard demanded as they approached.
"Yes, Mr. Vance," the lead guard replied. "She hasn't left the room. We've had eyes on the front door and windows the entire time."
Thomas pushed open the door.
The villa was dead quiet. The lights inside were off.
"Vanessa?" Thomas called out, his hand resting instinctively on his sidearm holster. He flipped the light switch.
The living room was empty.
They rushed into the master bedroom. The balcony doors were hanging wide open, swaying gently in the cold night wind. Rain was splattering onto the hardwood floor.
Lying on the center of the king-sized bed was Vanessa’s wedding dress. It had been cut down the middle with a pair of scissors. The fake silicon belly sat beside it, punctured multiple times.
And tied to the bedpost with the same black ribbon was another card.
Richard stepped forward and picked it up.
She failed me. But I do not fail. The real punishment begins now, Richard.
"Where is she?!" Mark yelled, running to the open balcony and looking out into the pitch-black woods surrounding the estate. "How did she get out?!"
"She didn't get out on her own," Thomas said, inspecting the heavy muddy boot prints on the balcony floor. "Someone came up the trellis. A man. He pulled her out."
Suddenly, from the main house across the courtyard, a high-pitched, piercing scream shattered the night.
May you like
It was Mrs. Gable.
Richard’s blood ran ice-cold. "EMILY!" he screamed.
