Chapter 3 - The Hidden Account
The next week changed Vincent.
Not physically.
At least not yet.
But mentally.
He stopped thinking like a man who had lost his empire and started thinking like the man who had built it.
His wheelchair became a command center.
His laptop was positioned across his bed.
His trusted phone was encrypted again.
He asked questions.
He requested records.
He summoned people.
And slowly, the old Vincent began to return.
His men noticed.
So did the people who feared him.
The first person he called was Rafael Cruz.
Rafael had been Vincent's driver and security chief for eight years.
He entered the bedroom with his hands behind his back.
"Boss."
Vincent nodded.
"Close the door."
Rafael did.
"I want a list of everyone who knew my route the night I was shot."
Rafael hesitated.
"Already checked it."
"Check again."
"Why?"
"Because whoever did this knew exactly where I would be."
Rafael lowered his eyes.
"There's more."
"What?"
"Your convoy wasn't attacked."
Vincent went still.
Rafael placed a file on the desk.
"The shooter waited. He let the first two vehicles pass."
Vincent opened the file.
"Then?"
"He fired after you entered the underpass."
"One shooter?"
"According to ballistics."
"That doesn't make sense."
"It doesn't."
Vincent looked at the evidence.
He remembered that night.
Rain.
Brakes.
A flash.
Then nothing.
"Who ordered the convoy change?"
Rafael swallowed.
"Dominic."
Vincent's jaw tightened.
Of course.
He needed proof.
That was the one thing his enemies always forgot about him.
Vincent could forgive betrayal.
He could not forgive sloppy betrayal.
He asked Rafael to investigate without informing anyone else.
Then he returned to his financial records.
The second account appeared on the screen at 2:17 a.m.
A holding company in Delaware.
Owned through a chain of shell corporations.
At first, nothing connected it to him.
Then Vincent saw the beneficiary.
Arya Vale.
His fiancée.
His hand went still on the keyboard.
He kept digging.
Payments had been made for twelve months.
Monthly.
Consistent.
Large enough to matter.
But the last transfer was different.
Twenty million dollars.
Paid seven days before the shooting.
Vincent stared at the screen.
There was only one conclusion.
Arya had been preparing to leave.
He was still looking when Tessa entered at six thirty in the morning.
"You haven't slept."
"No."
"Again?"
"Yes."
She looked at the screen.
"Bad news?"
Vincent hesitated.
Then he told her.
Tessa listened quietly.
When he finished, she asked, "Do you love her?"
Vincent looked at her.
"Why does everyone ask that?"
"Because money is easier to explain than betrayal."
He leaned back.
"I loved who I thought she was."
"That's different."
"Yes."
Tessa placed a cup of coffee beside him.
"You should eat."
"I'm not hungry."
"You've been awake eight hours."
"Seven."
"Still."
Vincent looked at the coffee.
"Why do you care?"
Tessa didn't answer immediately.
"Because nobody should have to recover from a bullet and betrayal at the same time."
He looked at her.
Something moved inside him.
Something warm.
Something terrifying.
He reached for the coffee.
Their fingers touched.
Neither moved.
The moment broke when the bedroom door burst open.
It was Arya.
She looked furious.
"Where is the file?"
Vincent slowly looked up.
"What file?"
"The harbor documents."
"You didn't bring them yesterday."
"Dominic said you received them."
Vincent smiled.
"Dominic lies."
Arya froze.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
She stepped closer.
"You've changed."
"No."
Vincent's voice was cold.
"I'm just awake now."
Arya's face went pale.
"What are you accusing me of?"
"Nothing."
"You don't trust me."
"Should I?"
Silence.
Then Arya said, "You need me."
Vincent looked at his wheelchair.
"Do I?"
"You need someone."
"Yes."
His eyes moved toward Tessa.
"I do."
Arya noticed.
Her expression hardened.
"Her?"
Tessa immediately stepped back.
Vincent's voice became dangerous.
"Don't."
Arya laughed bitterly.
"You think a maid can replace me?"
"No."
"Then why are you looking at her like that?"
Vincent's face remained expressionless.
"Because she hasn't tried to sell me."
Arya slapped the desk.
"You have no idea what you're talking about."
Vincent pressed a button.
The bedroom door opened.
Rafael stood outside.
"Take Arya downstairs."
Arya stared.
"You can't do this to me."
Vincent's voice was quiet.
"I've already done it."
When she was gone, Tessa exhaled.
"You just started a war."
Vincent looked at her.
"It was already happening."
Later that afternoon, Vincent received another message.
This one contained a scanned page from his father's old ledger.
The handwriting belonged to his father.
The entry was dated twenty-one years earlier.
TRANSFERRED TRUST: $50,000,000
BENEFICIARY: V.C.
HOLD UNTIL HE IS THIRTY.
Vincent stared at the initials.
V.C.
Him.
But the account number had been blacked out.
Below it, his father had written one sentence.
Trust no one in the house.
Vincent felt a chill.
His father had known.
Before dying, he had known someone would betray the family.
The question was who.
That evening, Vincent asked Tessa to sit with him.
She remained near the window.
"What?"
"I need to ask you something personal."
"Okay."
"Your sister. What's wrong with her?"
Tessa became still.
"Why?"
"You mentioned medical bills."
She looked away.
"She has a heart condition."
"How old?"
"Twenty-three."
Vincent nodded.
"What do you need?"
"I don't want charity."
"It's not charity."
"It would be if you paid everything."
"Then I'll call it employment."
She looked suspicious.
"Doing what?"
"I need someone I trust to manage my household."
"You're offering me a promotion?"
"I'm offering you protection."
Tessa stared.
"From what?"
Vincent looked toward the door.
"Everyone."
Tessa was silent.
Then she said, "You realize this is the least comforting job offer I've ever received?"
Vincent smiled.
"You're hired."
She smiled back.
Neither realized that someone downstairs was listening.
Dominic stood behind the wall.
His face had gone hard.
He typed one message.
HE KNOWS ABOUT THE ACCOUNT.
May you like
A reply appeared almost immediately.
THEN WE MOVE TONIGHT.
Related Stories
