Chapter 10 - Why Today?
The private Gulfstream cut through the turbulent midnight sky across the Atlantic like a silver phantom. Inside the sealed aft cabin, Rose sat alone under the watchful, unblinking eyes of Marcus, Nathaniel’s chief of security. Marcus had always treated her with utmost respect; he had personally pinned the boutonniere on Leo's suit at the wedding. Now, his hand rested inches from the concealed Glock beneath his jacket.
Up in the forward cabin, Nathaniel was surrounded by glowing tactical screens, private investigators, and forensic accountants.
"Sir, the financial attack just went live," his CFO’s voice crackled through the secure video conference. "Three minutes after the European markets opened, a massive short position was opened against Vance Global Holdings. Someone dumped four billion dollars of synthetic stock onto the Frankfurt exchange."
"Who authorized the liquidation of the trust shares?" Nathaniel demanded, his eyes bloodshot, staring at the cascading red graphs.
"The digital signature came from inside your private server, Nathaniel," the CFO replied, his voice shaking. "Authorized from the IP address of your Cap-Ferrat villa at 7:14 PM. The password was entered correctly on the first attempt."
Nathaniel’s fist slammed into the mahogany conference table with enough force to splinter the polished wood.
7:14 PM.
At 7:14 PM, he had been downstairs in the wine cellar fetching the guest ledger.
Rose had been alone on the terrace. Rose had access to his biometric tablet—the tablet he had unlocked in front of her a dozen times, trusting her with the passwords to his life.
"Why today?" Nathaniel whispered to himself, the veins in his temples throbbing violently. "Why the day after the wedding?"
Because under New York maritime and estate law, the moment the marriage certificate was filed and consummated, Rose became the primary legal executor of the Vance estate in the event of Nathaniel’s incapacitation or Eleanor’s death. Victoria could never have inherited the empire without years of probate court battles.
Rose, however, was already the legal wife.
Nathaniel stood up and walked down the narrow aisle toward the rear cabin. Marcus stepped aside immediately.
Nathaniel slid the door open. Rose looked up, her eyes swollen, red, and haunted.
"Why today, Rose?" he asked, his voice deathly quiet. "Why not wait a year? Why not wait until you bore an heir? Why pull the trigger the morning after our wedding?"
"I didn't do this!" Rose cried out, rising from the leather seat. "Nathaniel, someone is orchestrating this to destroy you! Think! Who benefits if you suspect me? Who benefits if you don't look at the real enemy?!"
"The trade was executed from your location while I was off the terrace!" Nathaniel snapped, his composure finally breaking, his roar filling the small cabin. "My mother is strapped to a bomb with less than nine hours left on the timer! The signature on the short sale matches your father's old offshore routing codes! How many coincidences do you expect me to believe?!"
"Then kill me!" Rose screamed back, stepping right into his face, thrusting her chest forward against his. "If you truly believe in your heart that the woman who lay in your arms this morning is a cold-blooded killer who wants to murder your mother, then pull your security guard's gun and shoot me right here! End it!"
Nathaniel stared at her, his chest rising and falling in violent, ragged gasps. He looked into her wide, hazel eyes—eyes filled with absolute, unfiltered defiance and agonizing heartbreak.
His hand twitched toward his holster.
He didn't draw the weapon. He couldn't. Even through the suffocating web of evidence, the phantom memory of her broken, bleeding hands holding Eleanor over the abyss burned in his mind.
"Land the plane at Teterboro," Nathaniel told Marcus without breaking eye contact with Rose. "And bring Leo Miller into custody. Now."
Rose’s face drained of every drop of color. "No! Leave Leo out of this! He's just a boy! He doesn't know anything!"
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"If you're innocent," Nathaniel whispered, turning away, "he has nothing to fear. But if he was the courier for the trust... I will destroy him myself."
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