Beatrice snapped her fingers to get my attention, a habit I had despised since childhood. “Yes, Elena. After everything we’ve done for you, after paying for your useless accounting degree when you could have joined the family business, you owe us. Julian has a temporary liquidity issue with his consultancy, and the insurance check can bridge the gap.”
I looked at their sunburned faces. I looked at the utter lack of humanity in their eyes. Then, my gaze shifted to the heavy, black leather folder I had deliberately placed on the side counter hours before they arrived.
For the first time since I watched the caskets disappear into the earth, the corners of my mouth twitched. I smiled.
“I don’t have the insurance check yet,” I said softly. I walked over to the counter and picked up the black folder. The leather felt cool and heavy in my hands. “But I do have something much more valuable. Something I think Julian is going to want to see.”
Julian stopped chewing his gum. His brow furrowed in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
I placed the black folder precisely in the center of the oak dining table.
“I’m talking about Apex Freight,” I whispered.
Chapter 2: The Diary of Dead Numbers
The name hung in the air, a poisonous vapor. Apex Freight. It was the name emblazoned on the side of the eighteen-wheeler that had crossed the median on Interstate 95. The name of the company that had crushed my sedan, and my entire universe, into twisted, unrecognizable metal.
To understand how I arrived at this moment, you have to understand how my family views me. To the Vance family, I was the disappointing anomaly. Richard built a cutthroat commercial real estate empire on ruthlessness and handshake deals that bordered on extortion. Beatrice was a socialite who weaponized gossip and leveraged relationships for status. Julian was their golden boy, a smooth-talking “consultant” who dealt in favors, networking, and phantom deliverables.
