On the desk lay a small wooden box with a heavy brass lock.

Vincent reached into his pocket and pulled out a small key.

He slid it into the lock and turned it, the mechanism releasing with a solid click.

Inside the box was a thick piece of parchment and a heavy lead seal attached to a red silk ribbon.

“This is the Crimson Seal,” I whispered, reaching out to touch the cold metal.

“Your father gave it to me for safekeeping three years ago,” Vincent said.

“He knew Derek was trying to systematically dismantle his life’s work.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” I asked, looking into his dark eyes.

“You had to be ready to face the truth of what Derek was,” Vincent said.

“If I had shown you this while you were still afraid of him, you would have run.”

I looked down at the document.

It was the original deed of trust, establishing that the Vance shipping empire would pass entirely to me.

There was no mention of Derek, no loophole for him to exploit.