Chapter 16 - The Shadow in the Dark
The cold,
heavy,
and incredibly ominous rain poured relentlessly,
violently from the dark,
pitch-black midnight sky.
Far away from the massive,
secure,
and beautifully peaceful Vance family estate,
a sinister,
dark,
and deeply jealous man sat quietly,
broodingly in his sleek,
expensive penthouse suite.
His name was Marcus Thorne,
and he was a ruthless,
greedy,
and completely merciless corporate shark who had once secretly,
quietly funded Julian Mercer's early,
fraudulent real estate ventures.
Marcus stared intensely,
angrily through the thick,
bulletproof glass of his massive,
corner office window,
watching the bright,
glittering city lights flicker weakly,
pathetically in the violent,
crashing thunderstorm.
He held a thick,
heavy crystal glass filled completely,
generously with rare,
expensive imported scotch in his large,
calloused hand.
He had lost millions,
perhaps even billions,
when Clara Vance had unexpectedly,
ruthlessly swooped in and completely,
absolutely destroyed Julian's fragile,
corrupt business empire.
Marcus crushed the expensive,
fragile glass tightly,
dangerously in his massive,
strong grip,
his knuckles turning a pale,
sickly shade of stark,
bone white.
He refused absolutely,
categorically to simply step aside,
surrender,
and allow a young,
inexperienced,
and newly discovered heiress to completely,
arrogantly dominate the massive,
lucrative global market.
He picked up his sleek,
encrypted smartphone from the polished,
expensive mahogany desk,
dialing a highly secure,
untraceable,
and strictly confidential international number.
A low,
gruff,
and incredibly dangerous voice answered immediately,
quietly on the other end of the secure,
encrypted line.
"The specialized,
highly trained extraction team is completely,
fully ready,
Mr. Thorne,"
the dark,
menacing voice reported smoothly,
efficiently.
"We have carefully,
meticulously studied the massive,
impenetrable Vance estate's highly complex,
expensive security grid for the past three,
long months."
Marcus smiled coldly,
cruelly,
a terrifying,
predatory expression that completely,
utterly lacked any shred of basic,
human empathy.
"I do not want you to simply,
quietly breach the massive,
secure perimeter,"
Marcus ordered strictly,
harshly,
taking another large,
burning gulp of his strong,
expensive liquor.
"I want you to completely,
systematically bypass their expensive,
modern alarms,
and I want you to specifically,
carefully target the young,
arrogant mother."
He walked slowly,
deliberately back to his large,
leather executive chair,
sitting down heavily,
arrogantly as he plotted his massive,
destructive revenge.
"If we take Clara Vance quietly,
stealthily into our hidden,
secure custody,
Eleanor Vance will completely,
absolutely surrender the entire,
massive corporate empire to ensure her precious,
beloved daughter's safe,
unharmed return."
It was the exact,
precise strategy that the original,
cruel kidnappers had foolishly,
unsuccessfully attempted twenty-five long,
agonizing years ago.
But Marcus was incredibly,
supremely confident,
arrogantly believing that he was vastly,
significantly smarter,
faster,
and far more deadly than any of the pathetic,
failed criminals from the distant,
forgotten past.
He did not realize,
unfortunately,
tragically for him,
that Clara was no longer a helpless,
defenseless,
and vulnerable infant crying weakly,
softly in a dark,
lonely nursery.
She was a fierce,
brilliant,
and incredibly ruthless billionaire queen,
and she was always,
constantly watching,
listening,
May you like
and preparing for the next inevitable,
deadly corporate war.
