Chapter 2 - Shadows in the Penthouse
I stood on the balcony of my Buckhead mansion at 2:00 AM, holding a glass of untouched scotch. The glowing Atlanta skyline stretched out before me, but for the first time in my life, the empire I built felt like a cage built on lies and blood.
Grace’s father had died trying to protect me. Because of his murder, his widow had spent two decades falling into poverty, unable to afford proper medical care for her chronic pulmonary illness, while their daughter worked as my silent housekeeper, cleaning my floors for minimum wage.
The next morning, I arrived at the Oseni-Vance corporate headquarters two hours before the executive team.
Instead of going to my top-floor office, I went down to the sub-basement archives. Using my master keycard, I unlocked the historical acquisition files from twenty years ago—the exact period surrounding my "accident."
The folder for the Atlantic Gateway Hotel acquisition was missing.
"Looking for something, Henry?" a voice spoke from the doorway.
I spun around. Arthur Vance stood near the archive racks, wearing his custom suit, a silver walking cane in his hand. His white hair gave him the appearance of a distinguished elder statesman, but his pale blue eyes were entirely cold.
"Arthur," I said, keeping my tone relaxed. "Just reviewing some old tax documents for the upcoming audit."
Arthur stepped closer, his cane tapping rhythmically against the concrete floor. Tap. Tap. Tap.
"You've been acting strangely lately, Henry," Arthur said, his eyes narrowing slightly. "My security team mentioned you took a city bus to the South Side two nights ago. That doesn't sound like a man who usually gets chauffeured in a Maybach."
My blood ran cold. He was having me watched.
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"I was following up on an internal theft matter with household staff," I lied smoothly, sliding the archive drawer shut. "Nothing for you to worry about."
Arthur smiled, but the expression didn't reach his eyes. "Be careful, Henry. The South Side can be dangerous. People die in those neighborhoods all the time... and sometimes, old ghosts resurfare."
