Chapter 5 - The Trap is Set
By evening, the rain had cleared, leaving the streets of the upscale suburb slick and glistening under the amber streetlights. I sat in my father’s study, reviewing the financial records from my mother’s journal alongside the corporate documents Samuel Price had sent over via secure email.
The connection between Marcus, Raymond, and a shell company called Apex Holdings was crystal clear. Apex Holdings had been purchasing Vance Global stock in secret for over two years, aiming for a hostile takeover. With Marcus in prison and Vanessa desperate, Raymond was the last piece standing.
My phone rang. It was Samuel Price.
“Elena, I received a call from Raymond’s legal counsel an hour ago,” Samuel said, his voice grave. “They’re demanding an emergency board meeting tomorrow morning. Raymond is mobilizing minority shareholders to vote you out as executor, claiming you're unstable and unfit to manage the estate.”
“Let them try,” I replied calmly. “Raymond is walking right into the trap.”
“Elena, be careful. Raymond is not Marcus. Marcus is a reckless idiot, but Raymond is cold, calculated, and has spent forty years burying scandals for this family.”
“Let him try to bury this one,” I said, hanging up the phone.
I stood up and walked over to the mirror in the hallway. The split lip from Marcus’s punch had healed into a faint purple bruise, and my eyes looked sharper, hardened by grief and resolve. I wasn't the quiet, submissive daughter anymore. I was the heir to an empire, and I was about to collect.
An hour later, my phone buzzed with an unknown number. A text message: *‘Meet me at the old boathouse by the lake behind the estate in twenty minutes. Come alone if you want to know how your mother really died.’*
My breath caught in my throat.
My mother.
The journal had mentioned her death, but it hadn’t given details. Was Raymond responsible? Had he lured me out there to silence me before the board meeting tomorrow?
I slipped a small recording device into my coat pocket, grabbed the brass key to the boathouse, and stepped out into the cool night air.
The path down to the lake wound through dense pine trees that cast long, menacing shadows under the moonlight. The old wooden boathouse stood at the edge of the dark water, its weathered boards creaking in the evening breeze. A single sliver of light escaped from beneath the warped wooden door.
I crept forward silently, my rubber-soled boots making no sound on the damp earth.
I reached out and pushed the heavy wooden door open.
May you like
Inside, standing by the edge of the slipway with his hands folded behind his back, was Uncle Raymond. He turned slowly, a chilling smile playing on his lips.
“I knew you’d come, Elena,” Raymond said smoothly, his voice echoing off the water. “Curiosity is a fatal Vance trait.”
