Chapter 6 - The Battle at the Hacienda
The heavy glass doors of the office tower shattered violently behind us, the sound of heavy boots rapidly ascending the marble staircase.
"David Vance," Eleanor whispered, her face turning an ashen, deathly shade of grey as a tall figure stepped into the dim light of the room.
My father.
He wore a perfectly tailored navy overcoat, his silver hair immaculate despite the midnight storm, his eyes carrying that same cold, mocking pride that had defined my childhood.
"You always were a disappointing son, Travis," my father said smoothly, his hand resting calmly inside his pocket.
"You couldn't just take the million dollars and the truck and vanish like a sensible boy."
"You had to dig into things that don't belong to you."
"This company belongs to my mother, David," I said, stepping between him and Eleanor, my fingers tightening around the leather ledger.
"And the $50 million trust clears into my name in exactly three hours."
My father let out a short, careless laugh that echoed poorly off the empty glass walls.
"The trust clears to whoever holds the verified corporate seal, son. And right now, the collection squad outside has twenty-four hours to ensure you never reach the courthouse."
Before he could give the command to the guards standing behind him, a sudden flash of red and blue lights exploded through the high office windows.
The state police, accompanied by two federal compliance units, swarmed the parking lot below, their sirens cutting through the mountain storm like an iron blade.
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Eleanor smiled nervously, pulling a secondary mobile phone from her coat pocket—the one that had been broadcasting our live audio directly to the federal precinct for the last three hours.
"Family doesn't keep secrets, David," I said quietly as the officers burst through the threshold. "You taught me that."
