Chapter 8 - The Ledger's Legacy
The heavy vault door hissed open.
Clara stepped out into the dimly lit corridor, her head held high, wearing only a simple white dress and the gold Rossi signet ring glistening on her finger.
Victor Costa turned, a triumphant, cruel smile stretching across his withered, scar-lined face. "Look at you. You have your mother's eyes, Clara. Fools' eyes."
"Let him go," Clara said, her voice steady, despite the trembling in her hands.
"The ledgers first," Victor demanded, thumbing the hammer of his revolver. "Where are they?"
"I don't know where they are," Clara said truthfully.
Victor’s smile faded. "Then you are useless to me." He raised his gun, pointing it at her forehead.
"Wait!" Clara said, taking a step forward. "I don't know where the physical ledgers are because my mother never hid them in a box or a safe! She hid them where only I could find them!"
Victor paused, his eyes narrowing. "What are you talking about?"
"Every year on my birthday, my mother made me memorize a list of names, bank routing numbers, and corporate accounts," Clara lied smoothly, taking another step closer, placing herself directly between Victor and Dominic. "She told me it was a game. She called it 'The Song of the Silver Keys.' I didn't understand what it meant until I read my file tonight."
Victor’s eyes burned with greed. Decades of searching, decades of fear of exposure, distilled into the mind of the girl standing right in front of him. "Tell me."
"I will," Clara said. "On one condition."
"You are in no position to bargain, girl!"
"If I die, the numbers die with me," Clara snapped back, stepping right into the barrel of his gun. "Step away from my husband."
Victor chuckled darkly. "Fine. A trade." He motioned for his men to step back.
As Victor lowered his gun slightly, distracted by the prospect of absolute power, Clara caught Dominic’s eye.
May you like
Dominic, despite his brutal injuries, read the subtle shift in her posture.
In one violent, explosive motion, Dominic lashed out, sweeping the legs of the guard holding his right arm. He grabbed the dropped weapon from the guard's holster, rolled across the floor, and fired three precise shots.
