Chapter 21 - The Bloodline Legacy
The icy spray of Lake Geneva hit Emma’s face like a shower of needles as the motorized launch burst out from the subterranean drainage outlet into the pitch-black waters of the lake.
Behind them, deep within the foundations of the ancient city, a muffled explosion vibrated through the stone shoreline. Alarms blared across the Geneva waterfront as emergency sirens echoed through the midnight mist.
Emma held Lily tightly against her chest in the stern of the boat. Henri de Montfort steered the craft through the dark water, heading toward the French side of the lake where a private safehouse had been prepared.
In her coat pocket, Arthur’s journal was soaked with lake spray, but the data drives remained secure inside their waterproof casing.
“Daniel...” Emma whispered, staring back at the distant Geneva skyline as fire trucks raced toward the Laurent bank. She did not know if her uncle had survived the breach, or if his final stand had claimed his life.
Suddenly, the encrypted satellite phone in Emma’s pocket buzzed violently.
She pulled it out, her hands shaking from adrenaline and the freezing wind. It was a secure video feed being broadcast from an unknown domestic network back in the United States.
Emma swiped the screen open.
The video feed flickered to life. It wasn't Uncle Daniel. It wasn't the police.
The camera showed the grand sitting room of the Vance estate in New York.
Sitting tied to a chair in the center of the room was Margaret Vance, her face bruised, weeping hysterically into a gag. Standing behind her were two men dressed in formal business suits.
A man stepped into the frame, leaning close to the camera lens. He possessed piercing blue eyes, high cheekbones, and an aura of chilling, calculated aristocracy.
“Good evening, Emma,” the man spoke in a velvety, menacing tone. “My name is Christian St. Clair. It seems your uncle and your late father were under the impression that the Laurent ledger was the only prize we were hunting.”
The man gestured to the side, and the camera panned slowly toward the corner of the room.
Sitting on the floor, guarded by an armed operative, were Emma’s siblings, Richard and Victoria—along with a locked metal chest bearing Arthur Vance’s personal seal.
“You see, Emma,” Christian continued, a cold smile curling on his lips, “your biological mother, Catherine Laurent, didn't just leave behind a bank account and a list of names. She left behind something far more dangerous to us... and far more precious to you. If you ever want to see what Arthur stole from my family thirty years ago—and if you ever want to see your family draw another breath—you will bring that star pendant to the Laurent estate in Provence by midnight tomorrow.”
May you like
The video feed cut out abruptly, leaving the screen pitch black.
At that exact moment, the boat’s engine suddenly sputtered and died, leaving them adrift in the freezing fog of Lake Geneva—and from the darkness behind them, the heavy, rhythmic thrum of an approaching gunboat’s radar illuminated their hull with a blinding spotlight.
