Chapter 3 - The Boathouse Secret
BOOM!
The wooden doorframe splintered inward, but instead of masked assassins, Marcus and three heavily armed security guards in dark tactical vests stepped through the threshold, weapons raised.
"Clear!" Marcus shouted, quickly holstering his sidearm the second he saw David and Lily alive. "Mr. Vance! Thank God. The perimeter is secure. State troopers have surrounded the estate road."
David let out a long, ragged breath, sliding his own weapon back into his belt. "Marcus... Thomas is in the boathouse. Check it now!"
Marcus gestured to two guards, who sprinted out the rear glass doors toward the estate’s private lake. Three minutes later, Marcus's voice crackled over the radio: "Mr. Vance! We found Thomas! He's alive, bound and gagged, but suffering from a severe concussion. Medics are treating him now."
David closed his eyes, relief washing over him, followed immediately by an absolute, scorching wave of fury. The imposter had taken Thomas down before eleven o'clock. Everything Lily had heard on that recording was terrifyingly real.
"Marcus," David said, stepping out of the study, holding Lily securely in his arm. "My wife isn't in the Hamptons."
Marcus frowned, stepping up beside his boss. "Sir? Her phone’s location data pinged off a tower near Southampton thirty minutes ago."
"She left her phone with her assistant to create a fake alibi," David said coldly, handing Marcus the voice recorder device. "Listen to this. Victoria is in the city right now at the Sterling Group corporate headquarters. She's meeting with Arthur Sterling to execute a hostile takeover of Vance Global the moment my 'death' is reported."
Marcus listened to the recording, his face turning a deep, dangerous red. "That cold-hearted bitch... Sir, what are your orders? Do I call the FBI?"
"No," David replied, his eyes narrowing into slits of pure steel. "The FBI will take hours to process warrants, and Sterling’s high-priced lawyers will stall the investigation. If Victoria thinks I’m dead... let’s give her the news she’s waiting for."
David looked down at his daughter. "Marcus, take Lily to my mother's estate in Connecticut under a full armed escort. Keep her completely off the grid."
"Daddy, no!" Lily cried, wrapping her small arms around his neck. "Don't go!"
David pressed a warm, lingering kiss against her forehead. "You saved my life today, sweetie. You are the bravest girl in the world. Now Daddy has to go finish this."
An hour later, news alerts exploded across every major financial network in New York:
"BREAKING: VEHICLE REGISTERED TO VANCE GLOBAL CEO DAVID VANCE FOUND SUBMERGED IN UPSTATE RESERVOIR; RESCUE OPERATIONS UNDERWAY."
The news was a deliberate leak executed by Marcus’s media team.
In the top-floor executive boardroom of the Sterling Group skyscraper in Manhattan, Victoria Vance stood near the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, holding a glass of vintage champagne. Beside her stood Arthur Sterling—a ruthless fifty-year-old billionaire hedge-fund manager who had been trying to acquire Vance Global's proprietary AI software for over two years.
Victoria looked at her phone screen, a slow, victorious smile spreading across her manicured lips as she read the breaking news headline.
"It's done," Victoria murmured, turning to Arthur. "David is gone. As his primary beneficiary, I now control sixty percent of his corporate voting shares."
Arthur raised his glass in a toast. "To a brilliant execution, Victoria. The board meeting starts in ten minutes. We vote to merge Vance Global into the Sterling portfolio by noon."
Suddenly, the heavy glass doors of the boardroom swung open.
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A man in a sharp navy suit stepped into the room, holding a thick leather folder. He didn't look like a grieving widower. He looked like a storm incarnate.
It was David Vance.
