The velvet darkness of the city skyline always looked peaceful from the massive windows of Vance Manor, but tonight, the air inside the grand master suite felt thick with a quiet, lethal tension.
Clara sat at the edge of the plush bed, dressed in a soft silk nightgown, her fingers idly tracing the gold fountain pen her father had given her years ago. Her eyes, sharp and clear, scanned the legal documents spread across the mattress. The Mercer Group was stabilized for now, but Adrian’s words from earlier that afternoon kept echoing in her mind. * Zurich. Vane Enterprises.* The ghost who had orchestrated the fire that killed her father was finally watching her from the shadows.
Suddenly, the heavy glass doors leading to the balcony rattled slightly. It wasn't the wind.
Clara froze, he
