Chapter 6 - The PortraitThe private elevator carried me to the seventy-fifth floor.
The Solmere Penthouse was silent.
Too silent.
I walked toward the enormous portrait of my mother above the fireplace.
Beatrice Vale smiled from the canvas.
Strong.
Elegant.
Alive.
I touched the painting.
"I came back, Mom."
My phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
THE WOLVES ARE CIRCLING.
Another message appeared.
LOOK BEHIND YOUR MOTHER'S PORTRAIT.
I froze.
Slowly, I moved the frame.
A biometric safe was hidden inside the wall.
My thumb opened it.
Inside was a black leather ledger.
A golden fountain pen.
And an old microcassette recorder.
Then I saw the note.
My mother's handwriting.
My hands trembled as I read.
If you are reading this, Charlotte, it means I didn't make it.
My breath caught.
Trust no one within the inner circle.
Then:
The board sold us out to the Vanguard Syndicate.
I read the last sentence twice.
Take it back, or burn it to the ground.
The lights went out.
Darkness swallowed the room.
Then came a sound.
Clap.
Clap.
Clap.
A man's voice emerged from the darkness.
"Impressive, Ms. Vale."
I turned.
A tall man stepped from the shadows.
He wore a midnight-blue tuxedo.
His eyes were amber.
Cold.
Calculating.
"My name is Julian Vance."
I tightened my grip on the ledger.
"Victoria's relative?"
He smiled.
"Unfortunately."
Then his expression became serious.
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"I represent the Vanguard Syndicate."
My mother's final warning suddenly felt very real.
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