Chapter 4 - The Library Floor
Night fell over Vance Manor in a cold, relentless rainstorm. The sound of water beating against the tall stained-glass windows of the private library echoed through the dark house.
At two o'clock in the morning, the heavy oak door of the library creaked open.
Jessi walked inside, dressed in a black turtleneck and trousers, carrying a small tactical flashlight and a digital tablet. She moved like a shadow across the Persian rug, heading straight toward the massive floor-to-ceiling mahogany bookshelves along the far wall.
Behind her, Patricia stepped into the room, holding a flickering candle, her silver evening dress replaced by a simple silk robe.
"The safe is beneath the third bookshelf near the fireplace," Patricia whispered softly, her voice trembling. "Arthur changes the combination every month, but I saw him write it in his private ledger last week."
Jessi knelt by the baseboards, pulling away a carved wooden molding to reveal a heavy, antique steel floor safe embedded in the concrete foundation. She entered the eight-digit code Patricia provided: 10-14-1998.
With a deep, metallic CLICK, the heavy steel door of the safe unlocked.
Jessi pulled the heavy door open. Inside lay stacks of offshore bank ledgers, velvet jewelry boxes, and a thick, yellowed envelope marked STERLING INC. - ORIGINAL DEEDS.
Jessi pulled the yellowed envelope into the light, her heart hammering against her ribs as she scanned the documents inside.
"These are the original partnership agreements," Jessi whispered, her eyes widening. "My father didn't sell his shares to Arthur. Arthur forged my father's signature three days after my father died in that car crash!"
"Look deeper, Jessi," Patricia said, her voice dropping into a fearful whisper.
Jessi reached into the bottom of the safe, pulling out a small, leather-bound black journal. She opened the cover. The handwriting inside belonged to Arthur Vance.
As Jessi read the entries dated October 1998, her breathing locked in her chest.
The journal didn't just contain financial records of corporate theft. It contained a detailed diary of how Arthur had hired an operative to cut the brake lines on Thomas Sterling's car twenty-four years ago.
It was a written confession to murder.
Suddenly, the heavy overhead chandelier flared bright white as the library doors were thrown open with a thunderous crash.
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Luca stood in the doorway, holding a heavy tactical flashlight in his left hand, flanked by three armed estate security guards.
"I knew you were a rat, Jessi," Luca snarled, a cruel, triumphant smile spreading across his face as he gestured to his guards. "Take the tablet and the papers. And lock both of them in the basement."
