Chapter 8 - Snow at the ChaletA heavy blizzard was blowing through the mountain pass as I drove my black SUV up the winding road toward the Aspen chalet. The trees were weighed down with thick white snow, and the wind howled through the canyons like an angry spirit.
I was armed, wearing my full tactical kit beneath a heavy winter parka. Lily was safe at the safe house under the protection of Marcus and Dr. Aris. Tonight was about finishing what my family had started decades ago.
I parked the SUV half a mile down the mountain road, approaching the dark, timber-framed chalet on foot through the knee-deep snow. The house was supposed to be empty, but warm yellow light glowed from the floor-to-ceiling windows of the lower study.
I moved silently up the back porch, checking my sidearm before slipping through the side entrance. The interior of the house was quiet, smelling of pine wood and cedar smoke.
I moved down the hall toward the basement staircase, where the heavy steel door to my father’s vault stood slightly ajar.
Inside the vault, surrounded by open safety deposit boxes and stacks of financial documents, stood a tall, silver-haired man wearing a cashmere overcoat. He was shoving leather-bound ledgers into a metal briefcase.
"You always had terrible taste in accomplices, Uncle Richard," I said, stepping into the doorway with my weapon drawn and trained on his chest.
Richard Vance froze. Slowly, he turned around.
Despite his age, he bore a striking resemblance to my father—the same sharp blue eyes, the same regal posture, but his mouth was twisted into a bitter, arrogant scowl.
"Evelyn," he said smoothly, showing no sign of fear. "I was wondering when you’d figure it out. You always were brighter than your husband."
"Grant wasn't my husband," I said, keeping my gun steady. "He was a thief you hired to do your dirty work."
Richard sneered, stepping away from the vault table. "Grant was a weak, greedy fool. I gave him a taste of real power, and he couldn't handle it. He got sloppy with that woman and ruined a five-year plan in a single weekend."
"You let him abuse my daughter," I said, my voice ice cold.
Richard shrugged carelessly. "Collateral damage. The child was an inconvenience. If you had stayed home like a dutiful wife instead of playing soldier for the government, none of this would have happened."
"You took my family’s name, stole my father’s legacy, and backed a man who hurt a child," I said, taking two deliberate steps forward. "You’re not family, Richard. You’re just another criminal."
Richard laughed, a dry, mocking sound. "Do you really think you can stop me? Look around you, Evelyn. I’ve already transferred forty percent of the trust reserves to offshore accounts. The paperwork is signed. The banks don't know you from Adam. By sunrise, I’ll be on a flight to a country with no extradition treaty, and you’ll be left holding the debt."
"Check your phone, Richard," I said softly.
He frowned, his eyes narrowing. Slowly, he pulled a satellite phone from his coat pocket. The screen was flashing red with automated system alerts.
"What is this?" he demanded.
"That's a court-ordered global freezing injunction," I explained. "Issued forty-five minutes ago by the Federal District Court of Colorado. Every account associated with 'Vance International Heritage' has been seized. The Swiss banks cooperated the moment Marcus uploaded the evidence of your racketeering network."
Richard’s face went pale. His hands began to shake as he scrolled through the messages on his screen. "No... no, this is impossible! I spent ten years building this network!"
"You built it on stolen ground," I said. "Drop the briefcase, Richard. It's over."
Panicked, Richard suddenly lunged toward the table, reaching for a small revolver hidden beneath a stack of papers.
I didn't hesitate. I stepped forward, swept his arm aside with a lightning-fast tactical block, and drove my knee into his midsection. He gasped, dropping to his knees on the cold concrete floor of the vault.
Before he could recover, I kicked the revolver across the room, grabbed him by the collar, and slammed him back against the steel vault door, clicking a heavy pair of zip-tie restraints around his wrists behind his back.
Richard panted for breath, his eyes wide with disbelief as he looked up at me from the floor.
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"How... how did you beat me?" he whispered.
I looked down at him, my expression unyielding. "Because you fought for money, Richard. I fought for my daughter."
