Chapter 3 - THE VAULT
I needed to get to the bank.
The key was stamped with the logo of the First Continental Bank of Chicago—an exclusive, high-security institution for the ultra-wealthy. I walked through the heavy revolving doors in my cheap hoodie and jeans, clutching the leather satchel like a lifeline.
The bank manager looked at me with disdain until I placed the heavy antique key on his mahogany desk and spoke the account number Eleanor had written in her letter.
The manager’s face drained of color. “Right this way, sir.”
He led me deep underground into a steel-lined vault, unlocked a massive metal box, and left me alone in a private viewing room.
I opened the box.
Inside sat fifty million dollars in untraceable bearer bonds, a velvet pouch filled with flawless cut diamonds, and a stack of legal documents. On top of the documents was a notarized will, drafted by Mr. Harrison, stating that upon Eleanor’s death, her entire estate, trust, and holding company were to be transferred to her legal spouse.
May you like
Me.
I stuffed a handful of the diamonds and the bearer bonds into the satchel, taking the legal documents with me. I was no longer a terrified orderly making minimum wage. I was a billionaire. And it was time to go to war.
