Chapter 8 - Shadows of the Past
Two weeks had passed since the boardroom coup. The media had a field day with the headlines—The Secret Heir of Graves Tower, The Fall of the Vance Dynasty, The Billionaire’s Redemption. Reporters swarmed the gates of the cliffside estate every single morning, but none of them could get past the reinforced security perimeter.
Inside the mansion, life was changing into a new, vibrant rhythm.
I no longer wore faded dresses and patched sneakers. My wardrobe was filled with clothes picked out by Mrs. Gable and approved by Mom, though I still kept my favorite old sneakers tucked safely at the back of my closet to remind myself where I came from.
Mom and Nathaniel were inseparable. They spent hours walking along the private beach below the cliffs, talking about the years they had lost and the future they were building together.
But not everyone was ready to let go of the past.
It was a rainy Tuesday evening. The storm outside lashed against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the library, where I sat reading a book on ancient history while Mrs. Gable brewed a pot of chamomile tea.
Suddenly, the security monitor on the oak desk began flashing red.
Mrs. Gable frowned, walking over to the console. “That’s strange. The perimeter sensors at the East Gate have been triggered.”
“Is it reporters?” I asked, looking up from my book.
“No,” Mrs. Gable muttered, her face turning pale as she zoomed in on the security camera feed. A black van had parked illegally outside the private gates, and several figures in dark tactical gear were stepping out, carrying heavy metal cutters. “Those aren't reporters. Those are Richard Vance’s loyalists.”
Before Mrs. Gable could reach for the emergency alarm, the heavy wooden library door flew open with a deafening crash.
A tall man with a jagged scar running down his neck—Victor, Richard Vance’s former head of private enforcers—stepped into the room. He held a suppressed pistol in his hand, his eyes scanning the space with cold brutality.
“Well, well,” Victor sneered, stepping further into the room. “The little golden goose. Old man Graves thinks he’s won, taking everything from the Vances. But he forgot about us.”
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Mrs. Gable stepped protectively in front of my chair, her hands trembling slightly. “Get out of this house. The guards have already been alerted.”
“The guards are currently tied up in the security wing,” Victor laughed darkly, raising his weapon. “Now, little Ruby… you’re going to help us send a message to your dear father.”
