Chapter 74 - Behind Iron Bars
The metallic clanging of the cell door at the Metropolitan Correctional Center in Chicago echoed like a death knell. I sat on the narrow bunk, the rough orange jumpsuit scratchy against my skin. The fluorescent lights overhead hummed loudly, casting harsh shadows across the concrete walls.
For ten years, I was the Chairwoman of Sterling-Vance Enterprises. I had commanded boardrooms, made billion-dollar deals, and survived hostile takeovers. Now, I was prisoner #90421, held without bail in a high-security federal facility.
"Ms. Vance, you have a visitor," a stone-faced female guard called out, knocking her heavy flashlight against the steel bars.
My heart leaped. I was led down a long, sterile corridor to a private consultation room. Sitting behind the thick bulletproof glass, holding the phone receiver with white knuckles, was Ethan. His dark hair was messy, his eyes bloodshot, and his suit wrinkled—proof that he hadn't slept a single second since the marshals dragged me away.
I grabbed my receiver, pressing my hand against the cold glass. "Ethan..."
"I'm here, Victoria. I'm right here," his deep baritone voice cracked over the speaker, filled with fierce, raw emotion. "Marcus and I have been working non-stop. The kids are safe in an encrypted safe house outside the city. They think you're on an emergency business trip in Europe."
Tears of relief welled in my eyes. "Thank God. Ethan, that woman on TV... she looked exactly like me. How is this possible? My parents never told me I had a twin."
"Because she isn't just a random stranger," Ethan whispered, leaning closer to the glass. "Marcus ran a deep search through the state adoption archives from thirty years ago. Your mother gave birth to twin girls in a private clinic in Boston. But the records were scrubbed by the Cross Syndicate. Veronica was taken the day she was born."
I gasped, my breath fogging the glass. "Harrison Cross raised her..."
"Harrison Cross raised her to be a weapon," Ethan confirmed, his blue eyes flashing with dangerous anger. "He trained her to replace you when the time was right. They forged Arthur Vance's medical records using a corrupt coroner in New York. The judge who signed your arrest warrant was paid off by Cross's offshore shell companies."
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"We need to prove the coroner lied," I said, my corporate instinct kicking back in. "If we pull the original tissue samples from the federal repository—"
"I'm already on it," Ethan promised, his gaze locking onto mine with an intensity that sent warmth through my freezing veins. "They think locking you in a cage will break Sterling-Vance. They don't realize that as long as I am breathing, I will tear down their world piece by piece until you walk free."
