Chapter 9 - The Web Unravels
By two o'clock in the morning, the storm over Manhattan had finally cleared, leaving behind a crisp, starlit sky over the city.
The Council of Nine session was officially concluded. Don Falcone's syndicate assets were dismantled and absorbed into the Bellacosta empire, while Celeste was taken to a secure, subterranean holding cell beneath the main estate to await permanent exile.
Victor sat in a plush armchair in the private executive suite of the St. Regis, holding sleeping Ellie in his broad arms. The little girl was wrapped in a soft wool blanket, her dark hair resting peacefully against his midnight-black suit jacket.
Arthur Vance sat across from him, sipping a glass of water, his hands no longer shaking.
"It's over, Victor," Arthur said softly. "The legal deeds have been updated. The Bellacosta trust is secure for the next thirty years. Nobody can challenge Ellie's claim."
Victor looked out the high glass window at the glowing city skyline below, his sharp mind reviewing every event of the night.
"Arthur," Victor said quietly.
"Yes, Victor?"
"Who gave Celeste the custom silver watch six months ago?"
Arthur paused, setting his glass down on the table. "I assumed she bought it from a jeweler in Zurich."
"A jeweler in Zurich doesn't have access to my father's private vault codes," Victor said, his blue-gray eyes narrowing into slits. "Celeste was smart, but she wasn't a master strategist. She was being guided by someone else."
Arthur swallowed hard, a sudden flicker of anxiety returning to his eyes. "What are you saying, Victor?"
Victor gently set sleeping Ellie down on the velvet sofa, covering her with the blanket. He stood up to his full height, walking slowly over to Arthur's chair. His broad frame loomed over the elderly lawyer like an imposing shadow.
Victor reached into his vest pocket, pulling out a small, folded piece of paper he had recovered from Celeste’s beaded clutch before she was dragged away.
He unfolded it, setting it flat on the table before Arthur.
The paper contained a series of financial routing numbers linking the Bellacosta trust directly to a private bank account in London. At the bottom of the page was a signature written in fresh, elegant calligraphy.
It wasn't signed by Celeste. It wasn't signed by Falcone.
It was signed: Arthur Vance.
May you like
Arthur’s face drained of all color. He tried to stand up, but Victor’s massive hand slammed down onto his shoulder, pinning the lawyer into his chair with terrifying force.
"You created the secondary ledger ten years ago, didn't you, Arthur?" Victor whispered, his deep voice shaking the quiet room.
