Chapter 2 - The Lost Legacy
Ten minutes later, the high-security compound's formal study was heated by a roaring oak fire in the grand stone fireplace.
Maya sat in a high-backed leather armchair, wrapped in a plush wool blanket, a warm cup of hot chocolate resting between her hands. Phantom lay curled on the rug directly at her feet, his heavy head resting on her mismatched shoes, his dark tail thumping once or twice against the floor whenever she moved her feet.
Holden Cross sat across from her, a crystal tumbler of whiskey in his hand, while Marcus stood near the door holding an encrypted tablet.
"We ran her facial recognition against state registries, Mr. Cross," Marcus reported quietly, his voice tinged with shock. "Her full name is Maya Vance. She was reported missing from a state foster facility in Rockford three weeks ago."
Holden raised an eyebrow, looking down at his glass before turning his gaze back to the child. "Vance? As in Arthur Vance?"
"Yes, sir," Marcus confirmed. "Arthur Vance was the original breeder in Illinois who raised Phantom’s litter six years ago—before Vance died in that suspicious facility fire three years back."
Holden remembered now. Before he had imported Phantom from the Italian protection firm, the dog had originated from a high-end breeding facility in rural Illinois owned by Arthur Vance, a renowned working-dog trainer who had mysteriously vanished after his estate was consumed by arson.
"You were Arthur Vance's granddaughter," Holden stated softly, looking at Maya.
Maya nodded slowly, taking a small sip of her chocolate. "My granddaddy raised Phantom when he was just a tiny puppy. Phantom’s real name was Shadow. He had a sister named Luna. Granddaddy used to train them with a special whistle word—an old Gaelic word for 'peace'."
She looked down at the massive dog resting on her feet. "When the bad men came to burn down granddaddy's barn, granddaddy hid me in the hayloft. Phantom broke his rope and tried to bite the bad men, but they loaded him into a big truck and drove away. Granddaddy told me before he went to the hospital that if I ever found Shadow, I just had to say the word, and he'd remember."
Holden set his glass down on the mahogany table with a quiet, deliberate click.
"The men who burned the barn," Holden said softly, his tone dropping into a dangerous register. "Did you see their faces, Maya?"
"I didn't see their faces," Maya whispered, clutching her hot chocolate tighter. "But they wore black jackets with a red snake on the sleeve. And... they said they were going to take all of granddaddy's land for the new harbor project."
Marcus gasped quietly near the door.
The red snake emblem belonged to the Viper Syndicate—a ruthless rival criminal syndicate led by Damon Vance's former business partner, Raymond Thorne. Thorne had been aggressively trying to seize control of the riverfront shipping terminals across three states for the past five years—the very same territory Holden Cross currently defended.
"Thorne," Holden said, his eyes darkening into lethal focus. "He didn't just steal the land. He killed Arthur Vance and funneled his protection dogs through illegal foreign auctions to launder his assets."
Phantom raised his head, letting out a low, rumbling growl at the mention of the name, as if the animal itself remembered the smell of smoke and the men in black jackets.
Holden stood up slowly from his armchair, walking over to stand beside the young girl.
"Maya," Holden said softly, placing a large, warm hand on her small shoulder. "You came a long way through the snow tonight."
"I walked for three days," Maya said simply. "I saw a picture of Phantom on a security poster in the city news. I knew it was him because of the white scar under his left ear."
May you like
Holden looked down at the child who had faced down an urban legend with nothing but a whispered word from her past.
"You're not going back to any foster home, Maya," Holden stated with absolute authority. "This house is yours now. And as long as I breathe, no one from the Viper Syndicate will ever touch a hair on your head."
