Chapter 6
I wanted to panic.
Instead, training took over.
“Kill my credentials.”
Dad's chief technology officer hesitated.
“All of them?”
“All.”
Dad nodded.
“Do it.”
My access disappeared within seconds.
Every device.
Every internal system.
Every private vault.
I felt strangely naked.
But the attack slowed.
Analysts traced the intrusion through servers in Prague, Dubai, and Buenos Aires.
Professional.
Expensive.
Not Celeste alone.
Victor had infrastructure.
Maybe old clients.
Maybe people named in Charles's ledger.
Dad looked at me.
“How did they get your credentials?”
I knew.
Blackthorn.
Nathan had access to my personal computer.
Not passwords.
But the sapphire pendant synchronized through a secure authentication token I occasionally used.
Celeste had spent months inside my home.
She could have copied device certificates.
I felt sick.
“I brought this into Vale.”
Dad shook his head.
“No.”
“They used me.”
“They attacked us.”
I stared at him.
“You always make the distinction sound simple.”
“It is not simple.”
His voice softened.
“But shame makes people claim responsibility for other people's choices. Don't.”
That sounded like advice he needed too.
Federal cyber teams joined the investigation.
Then Nathan requested another interview.
This time, he had information.
I didn't want to see him.
Agent Hale convinced me the information concerned Celeste.
Nathan looked worse.
He had been formally charged with multiple financial offenses and aggravated assault related to what he did to me.
His attorney was negotiating cooperation.
The man who once controlled rooms now asked permission before speaking.
“Celeste used your laptop.”
My stomach tightened.
“When?”
“Several times.”
“You knew?”
“I thought she was checking travel schedules.”
I laughed once.
“Of course.”
He flinched.
“She asked questions about your father.”
“What questions?”
“What systems he used. Whether you worked for him. Why you sometimes traveled without telling me details.”
“And what did you tell her?”
“Everything I knew.”
My anger rose.
Nathan saw it.
“I thought she was jealous.”
“You handed someone information about my family because your mistress was jealous?”
“I know how that sounds.”
“It sounds exactly like what happened.”
He lowered his head.
Then said:
“She also asked about the pendant.”
I went still.
“What?”
“She said it looked expensive.”
“When?”
“Months ago.”
“Did you give it to her?”
“No.”
“Did she touch it?”
“Yes.”
My stomach dropped.
At a gala.
I remembered.
Celeste admired it while I was getting ready.
She had asked to see the clasp.
I handed it to her for maybe thirty seconds.
Enough for an expert to scan its electronics.
She had been planning against me longer than I knew.
Nathan whispered, “I'm sorry.”
I ignored that.
“Why are you telling me now?”
“Because there's something else.”
He looked toward Hale.
“Celeste has a brother.”
Dad's intelligence files listed Celeste as an only child.
“What brother?”
“Half-brother. Julian Voss.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
“What does he do?”
Nathan swallowed.
“Cybersecurity.”
Of course.
“He worked for Ashford?”
“Contractor. Under another name.”
“What name?”
Nathan gave it.
Miles Kade.
Dad's analysts found him within twenty minutes.
Miles Kade had consulted for Ashford Global and two Vale Dominion vendors.
The breach wasn't opportunistic.
Celeste had planted access years ago.
Dad stared at the screen.
“This is not revenge.”
“What is it?”
“Acquisition.”
He explained.
Victor Monroe had spent decades surviving by collecting compromising information.
Charles's archive was worth billions.
Not because of money inside it.
Because names created leverage.
Celeste wanted the ledger.
Nathan's networks.
Vale's networks.
She was not destroying empires.
She was trying to inherit the machinery beneath them.
“Then we stop reacting,” I said.
Dad looked at me.
“What do you suggest?”
“We give her something worth stealing.”
That was how we built the trap.
A false internal report.
It claimed Vale Dominion maintained a hidden master archive containing offshore account maps, government vulnerabilities, and protected identities.
It didn't exist.
We created enough realistic metadata to make it irresistible.
Then we placed it behind credentials linked to me.
If Julian accessed it, we'd trace him.
Dad hated using me as bait.
I reminded him I was already bait.
This time, at least, we controlled the hook.
For thirty-six hours, nothing happened.
Then, at 3:17 a.m., the fake archive was accessed.
Prague.
Then routed to Serbia.
Then Austria.
Dad's teams followed.
Federal partners moved.
A location emerged.
An isolated private estate outside Salzburg.
Owned through a company linked to Victor.
Agents coordinated with Austrian authorities.
I watched from Chicago.
I was not allowed to go.
For once, I obeyed.
The raid began before dawn.
Live updates came through secure channels.
Outer gate secured.
Two suspects detained.
Server room located.
Then gunfire.
My stomach dropped.
“Who?”
Nobody knew.
Dad stood behind me, one hand on my shoulder.
Minutes felt like hours.
Then the message arrived.
JULIAN VOSS IN CUSTODY.
VICTOR MONROE IN CUSTODY.
I exhaled.
“Celeste?”
No answer.
Teams searched the estate.
Bedrooms.
Basement.
Garage.
Safe rooms.
No Celeste.
Then they found a tunnel leading toward a wooded road.
A vehicle had left minutes before the perimeter closed.
She escaped again.
But Victor's servers remained.
So did the ledger.
And thousands of files.
One folder carried my name.
VIVIAN VALE — TERMINAL LEVERAGE.
I felt sick.
Dad opened it beside me.
Photographs.
My routines.
Blackthorn floor plans.
Medical records from my staircase fall.
Private messages Nathan had forwarded.
Then a document dated six months earlier.
PROPOSED END STATE.
The language was clinical.
If marital separation occurs before archive acquisition, subject becomes liability.
Neutralization options:
Public psychiatric collapse.
Criminal framing.
Accidental death.
My hands began shaking.
Dad went completely still.
Nathan hadn't simply become violent.
Celeste had been planning ways to remove me permanently.
Another file contained draft police statements.
One claimed I attacked Celeste with a knife.
Another claimed I overdosed.
Another described a fatal car crash after “emotional distress.”
My father whispered:
“She was going to kill you.”
I looked at the date.
The plan existed before Nathan pushed me down the stairs.
Then I saw another note.
N.A. psychologically suitable for escalation. Maintain dependency through praise, intimacy, and fear of exposure.
Nathan.
Celeste had studied him too.
Manipulated his weaknesses.
Encouraged his cruelty.
But she hadn't created it.
That mattered.
Nathan still chose every strike.
At the bottom of the file was a final instruction.
If extraction fails, activate contingency through A.A.
I frowned.
“A.A.?”
Dad's face changed.
“Adrian Ashford.”
I stared at him.
“No.”
Then my phone rang.
Adrian.
I answered.
“Vivian?”
His voice shook.
“I need help.”
“What happened?”
“They found me.”
“Who?”
May you like
A scream sounded in the background.
Then the line went dead.
