Chapter 30 - The Final Trap at Blackwood Manor
Forty-eight hours later, the private penthouse suite at the city general hospital was guarded by six armed federal agents.
Victoria Vance sat in a plush armchair by the window, holding four-year-old Sophie on her lap while reading a fairy tale.
The color had returned to Victoria's cheeks, and for the first time in twenty-eight years, the ghost in her eyes had been replaced by gentle warmth.
"She loves you, Mother," Daniel said softly, walking over with a cup of warm tea for Victoria.
Victoria looked up at her son, smiling through tears. "She has the Vance spirit, Daniel. Unyielding and pure."
Emily walked into the room, holding a sealed black legal envelope delivered by a private courier.
"What is that?" Daniel asked, sensing the tension in Emily's posture.
"It just arrived at the front desk," Emily said, her face grim. "Addressed to both of us."
Daniel took the envelope, breaking the wax seal with his thumb.
Inside was a single silver key to the master study of Blackwood Manor—the grand ancestral mansion where his father had died.
Along with the key was an official land survey deed and a handwritten note on Evelyn's personalized stationery.
*You thought Victoria was the only secret your father buried, Daniel.*
*The koi pond where your sweet Emily almost drowned my pride was built over your father's real grave.*
*Go to the study before six o'clock, or the timers beneath the manor will vaporize the entire foundation.*
Daniel checked his watch.
It was five-fifteen in the afternoon.
"It's another trap, Daniel," Emily said, grabbing his arm tightly. "We have the documents. We have Victoria. We don't need Blackwood Manor."
"If there are explosives beneath the manor, the entire residential valley is in danger," Daniel said, his jaw tightening with unshakeable resolve. "And my father's memory deserves the truth."
"Then I am going with you," Emily said, refusing to let go of his arm. "We finish this together."
Thirty minutes later, their black sedan pulled up the long, winding driveway of Blackwood Manor.
The grand estate stood dark and silent beneath the twilight sky, its towering marble pillars casting long, ominous shadows across the lawn.
The famous koi pond sat undisturbed at the center of the formal courtyard, its black water reflecting the dying red light of the setting sun.
Daniel unlocked the front double doors, their heavy hinges echoing through the hollow, marble-floored mansion.
They walked silently toward the master study on the second floor, their hands resting on their holstered weapons.
The study door stood slightly ajar.
Inside, sitting at his father's grand mahogany desk, was a figure silhouetted against the bay window.
"Evelyn," Daniel whispered, raising his firearm as he stepped into the room.
The leather desk chair slowly swiveled around to face them.
It wasn't Evelyn Vance.
Sitting in the chair, smiling with cold, predatory amusement, was Daniel's personal attorney and trusted legal advisor, Robert Sterling—the son of the doctor from the asylum.
On the desk in front of Robert was a live digital timer counting down from three minutes, alongside a split-screen security feed.
The screen on the left showed the hospital penthouse room where Victoria and baby Sophie were currently sitting.
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Underneath the floorboards of the hospital room, four red blinking lights signaled high-yield plastic explosives.
"Welcome home, Daniel," Robert said softly, placing his finger over a red remote switch. "Evelyn was merely the hammer. I was the architect."
