Chapter 14 - Blood in the Boardroom
The Grand Ballroom of the Plaza Hotel glittered like a golden cage. Crystal chandeliers cast kaleidoscopic reflections across the sea of black tuxedos and couture evening gowns. Wall Street executives, international diplomats, and European royalty mingled, sipping Dom Pérignon while string quartets played softly in the background.
At precisely 9:15 PM, the heavy mahogany double doors swung open.
Julian and Elena entered side by side.
Elena was magnificent. She wore a backless crimson velvet gown that cascaded to the floor, her neck bare except for the single silver chain belonging to her late mother. Julian walked with an aura of pure, controlled violence, his hand resting firmly on the small of her back. Behind them, disguised as hotel security, Marcus and six covert operatives melted into the corners of the room, weapons concealed beneath their dinner jackets.
The room quieted as whispers surged through the crowd. The news of Victoria’s prison escape had already begun to leak across financial trading desks, but seeing Julian and Elena here, untouchable and regal, kept the panic at bay.
"Julian! Elena!" a booming voice called out.
Stepping forward through the crowd was Lucian Vance—a man of sixty with razor-sharp silver hair, a hawk-like nose, and eyes the color of winter frost. He was Elena’s estranged paternal uncle, the current head of Vance Global Enterprises, who had cut ties with Jonathan Vance decades ago when the family fell from grace.
"Uncle Lucian," Elena said, her voice smooth as silk but cold as winter ice. "I didn't expect to see you outside of Zurich."
"A Vance never misses a public hanging, my dear," Lucian said with an enigmatic, icy smile. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping so low only Julian and Elena could hear. "Victoria is on the penthouse floor. She has your father, Julian."
Julian’s eyes narrowed into slits. "Arthur is secured at the Greenwich estate."
"Is he?" Lucian smirked, pulling an antique gold pocket watch from his vest. "Check your encrypted link, nephew. Arthur received a call from an old friend thirty minutes after you left. He thought he was saving you. He walked straight into the spider’s parlor."
Julian tapped his hidden earpiece. "Marcus, confirm Arthur’s location now!"
Static hissed in his ear, followed by Marcus’s breathless voice: "Sir! Greenwich security breached from the inside! Arthur’s car was intercepted on Route 15! We lost him!"
Julian’s hand drifted toward his jacket, but Lucian caught his wrist in an iron grip. "I wouldn't, Julian. Victoria isn't alone. She made a pact with the Balkan syndicate to fund her escape. There are fifteen armed operators on the 18th floor. Make a scene down here, and Arthur takes a swan dive off the roof onto Fifth Avenue."
Elena stepped forward, prying Lucian’s fingers off Julian’s wrist with a force that surprised the older man. She looked directly into Lucian's eyes, her jaw set with absolute authority.
"What do you want, Lucian?" Elena demanded. "You hated my father. You watched us starve. Why are you backing Victoria?"
"Because your father had the original shares to the Blackwood oil reserves, little niece," Lucian hissed softly. "Victoria promised me those shares in exchange for financing her extraction from Bedford Hills. But unlike Victoria, I am a businessman. I don't care about family vendettas. I care about liquidity."
"Then let's make a deal," Elena whispered, her eyes flashing like polished steel. "Julian, stay down here and keep the board pacified. I’m going up."
"Elena, no!" Julian gripped her arm, terror flashing in his eyes. "You are not facing that monster alone. She will kill you."
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"She won't kill me until she gets what she wants," Elena replied, leaning up to kiss Julian’s cheek, whispering directly into his ear: "Marcus is tracking my bracelet. Keep the press blind, Julian. If we show fear now, the foundation dies, Arthur dies, and our daughter loses her father. Trust me."
Without waiting for his answer, Elena turned on her heel and strode purposefully toward the private service elevators at the rear of the ballroom.
