5:58 P.M. at Château de Chillon
Rain lashed the stone walls of Château de Chillon.
Inside the ancient Council chamber, Julian Vance sat in the central chair.
Six other members surrounded the long oak table.
Private security personnel guarded the hall.
Julian looked at the clock.
“5:58 p.m.”
He announced that the waiting period had reached its final minutes.
In his version of events, Christian Vance’s direct line had disappeared.
He called for the succession vote.
Pierre Laurent supported him.
Henrik Sterling supported him.
Baroness von Rothschild remained silent.
Then Julian demanded the votes of the Swiss banking houses.
One banker objected.
Under the governing charter, the physical Prometheus Key had to be presented.
Julian smiled.
He opened his case.
And produced a gilded key.
He claimed it had been recovered from the London vault.
Then he raised the gavel.
“By the authority vested in me…”
The doors erupted inward.
The chamber plunged into chaos.
Swiss special-forces personnel entered and ordered Julian’s private guards to disarm.
Julian stood.
“This is an extraterritorial enclave! You have no authority here!”
Then a woman’s voice came through the smoke.
“General Meier doesn’t have jurisdiction here, Julian.”
A pause.
“I do.”
Emily walked through the doorway.
Leo held one of her hands.
Noah held the other.
Alexander followed carrying Maya.
Harrison Cross entered behind them.
The Council members rose.
Baroness Helga von Rothschild stared at Emily.
“Christian’s daughter…”
Tears filled her eyes.
“Christian’s daughter lives.”
Julian went white.
“Emily?”
He had expected her to be poor.
Broken.
Invisible.
Instead, she stood inside the Council chamber with her children.
David’s scheme had failed.
Emily’s business had survived.
And Julian’s deadline had just become a confrontation.
