Chapter 15 - The Voice on the Burner
Arthur stared at the glowing screen for three agonizing seconds before snatching the phone from the glass.
He clicked the speaker button, holding the device between himself and the dying broker.
"Julian failed to mention one detail, didn't he?" a woman’s voice said through the tiny speaker.
The voice was melodic, refined, and entirely devoid of fear.
It sounded identical to Clara’s voice, yet older, colder, and stripped of all hesitation.
"I assume I'm speaking to the bride who didn't show up," Arthur said, his tone deadpan.
A soft, melodic chuckle drifted through the line, accompanied by the clink of ice against crystal.
"Oh, I showed up, Arthur. I wore midnight blue and sat close enough to smell your grandmother’s fear."
Arthur motioned silently to his lead contractor, who immediately tapped into a tablet to trace the signal.
"My security will have this block surrounded in two minutes," Arthur warned.
"They can try," she replied smoothly. "Just like your grandfather tried to surround the docks in Marseilles thirty-two years ago."
Arthur's grip tightened on the frame of the phone. "My grandmother told me about the ship."
"Did she tell you about the children in the hold, Arthur? Did she tell you that eight survived?"
Arthur looked at Vance, whose head had finally slumped onto his chest, lifeless.
"What do you want?" Arthur asked. "The Hawthorne fortune? The shipping lines? Name your price and end this."
"A price?" The woman laughed, the sound sharp as broken glass. "You think this is about money, little heir?"
"Then tell me what it's about."
"Generational balance," she whispered. "Your grandfather built his empire on the bones of twenty-four families."
A pause stretched across the line, heavy with impending violence.
"Your wedding was merely the overture, Arthur," she continued. "At midnight, the first asset burns."
"Which asset?" Arthur demanded, his pulse hammering in his ears.
"The one where you keep your most precious cargo," she said, and hung up.
The trace operator looked up from his tablet, his face drained of all color.
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"Where is she?" Arthur snapped.
"Sir... the signal wasn't coming from outside," the operator said, his voice trembling. "It’s routed from inside the Hawthorne Family Vault downtown."
