Chapter 10 - The Shadow of Aethelgard
The heavy glass doors of St. Jude's Memorial slid open, releasing me into the crisp, biting autumn air of the Manhattan evening. The city streets were alive with rushing commuters, blaring taxi horns, and the endless, indifferent hum of urban life.
I pulled my service cap down slightly against the wind and reached into my pocket for my phone. It buzzed instantly—not with a family call, but with a high-priority encrypted email alert from the Department of Justice task force.
I unlocked the screen and scanned the preview text: Urgent: Corporate Asset Seizure Update.
With Luke’s arrest and the forfeiture of Vance Shield Recovery’s remaining holdings, federal prosecutors had initiated a comprehensive liquidation of the company's subsidiary assets. But according to the automated asset-mapping software, something strange had happened during the pre-dawn receivership transfer.
The primary controlling interest of Vance Shield Recovery hadn't just been seized by the government.
It had been preemptively acquired twenty-four hours earlier by an offshore private equity firm.
An entity registered under a name I hadn't expected to see anywhere near this investigation.
Aethelgard Holdings.
My fingers froze over the glass screen. Aethelgard. The exact same corporate conglomerate that had quietly swallowed Grant Whitmore’s multi-million-dollar real estate empire in Greenwich just days ago, headed by a mysterious, calculating mastermind operating entirely through high-level legal proxies.
Before I could tap the attachment to read the full corporate registration logs, a sleek, matte-black town car pulled up silently to the curb beside me. The tinted rear window rolled down smoothly.
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Inside sat a woman wrapped in an expensive cashmere coat, her silver-blonde hair framing a face that was calm, composed, and carrying the unmistakable look of someone who owned the board before anyone else even realized they were playing.
"Master Chief Sterling," Claire Whitmore said softly, her voice carrying clearly over the roar of city traffic. "Get in. I think we have mutual business to discuss."
