Chapter 7
High above the financial district, inside the mahogany-paneled boardroom of Vance & Sterling, Linnea stood before a panoramic map of the city’s deep-water port terminals.
She wore a tailored charcoal wool suit, her long dark hair swept into an elegant knot. There was no trace of the desperate mother who had pleaded for her children’s dinner twelve hours earlier. Here, she looked like an empress preparing for a campaign.
"The board convenes in forty-eight hours," Julian Vance said, spreading financial audit sheets across the oval table. "When trading resumes on Monday, the Thorn Group stock will plummet thirty percent on news of Edward's ouster. The institutional investors are panicking."
"Let them panic," Linnea said coldly, tracing a line along the shipping routes. "When the stock hits forty dollars a share, execute the buyback orders through the offshore trust. We will absorb sixty-five percent of the voting shares before noon."
"And the children?" Julian asked softly. "Are they settling into the manor?"
A rare, warm smile touched Linnea’s lips. "Faye picked the rose suite overlooking the garden. Della spent the entire morning running through the grand library, amazed that she can touch any book she wants. And Beckett... Beckett ate three bowls of warm oatmeal with blueberries. He asked me if the kitchen table was really ours forever."
"What did you tell him?"
"I told him no one would ever take his plate again."
Before Julian could answer, the heavy double doors of the boardroom swung open. Miller, the head of private security, entered with a grim expression, holding a secure encrypted tablet.
"Miss Thorn," Miller said, closing the door firmly behind him. "We intercepted an unencrypted satellite call routed through a private exchange in Zurich thirty minutes ago."
Linnea’s eyes hardened instantly. "From who?"
"Marguerite Thorn," Miller replied, stepping forward to hand her the transcript. "She placed a call from the Windsor Carlton to a private villa in Lake Como, Italy. Specifically, to the estate of Marcus Valerius."
Julian dropped his pen. His face paled instantly. "Dear God. Linnea... she didn't."
Linnea read the transcript with chilling calm. Her jaw tightened, the muscles ticking beneath her porcelain skin, but her hands remained steady as granite.
"Marguerite told his intermediaries that the Thorn family is harboring the Valerius heirs in New York," Linnea said, her voice dropping to a whisper that made the air in the room turn frigid. "She provided the coordinates of Blackwood Manor."
"We must move the children immediately," Julian urged, stepping toward the telephone. "We have the safehouse in Vermont. We can have a helicopter on the roof in ten minutes."
"No," Linnea said firmly, slamming her palm down onto the oak table. "We run nowhere."
"Linnea, you know what Marcus is capable of!" Julian argued, his voice laced with dread. "He hunted you across three continents! If he sends his enforcers into this city—"
"Marcus didn't hunt me because he wanted to kill me, Julian," Linnea interrupted, turning her piercing dark eyes onto her attorney. "He hunted me because I left him with nothing when I walked out of Milan. He knows the children are mine. Only mine."
May you like
Miller checked his sidearm. "What are your orders, Miss Thorn?"
"Double the perimeter guard at Blackwood Manor," Linnea commanded, her eyes blazing with lethal purpose. "And bring Edward and Marguerite to me. Before Marcus Valerius lands on American soil, I am going to teach my family the true price of treason."
