He was tall.
Elegant.
And completely calm.
Too calm.
He closed the car door behind him and slowly walked toward the hotel entrance.
The boy took one step backward.
“No…”
Alexander looked at him.
“You know that man?”
The boy shook his head.
“No. But that scarf…”
His voice broke.
“My sister never took it off.”
The man entered the lounge.
Every security guard immediately reached for his radio.
Alexander stood up.
“Who are you?”
The man smiled.
“My name is Victor Kane.”
He looked at the boy.
Then at Alexander.
“I believe you have something that belongs to me.”
Alexander frowned.
“I don’t have anything of yours.”
Victor’s eyes moved toward the terrified boy.
“Not yet.”
The boy suddenly screamed.
“WHERE IS MY SISTER?!”
The entire room froze.
Victor didn’t answer.
Instead, he reached inside his coat and pulled out a small photograph.
He placed it on the table.
Alexander picked it up.
His face changed instantly.
The photograph showed the boy’s sister.
She was standing beside a hospital bed.
And next to her was Alexander’s father.
A man who had been dead for twelve years.
Alexander stared at the picture.
“That’s impossible.”
Victor smiled.
“Your father didn’t die twelve years ago.”
Alexander’s fingers tightened around the photograph.
“What did you just say?”
Victor leaned closer.
“He disappeared.”
The boy looked between them.
“So you know where my sister is?”
Victor finally looked directly at him.
“Yes.”
The boy’s eyes filled with tears.
“Is she alive?”
Victor was silent for several seconds.
Then he whispered:
“She was… when I last saw her.”
The boy collapsed to his knees.
Alexander immediately turned toward his security team.
“Lock every exit.”
The bodyguard who had grabbed the boy earlier suddenly reached for his weapon.
But before he could pull it out—
BANG!
A gunshot shattered the glass chandelier.
Everyone screamed.
Victor moved faster than anyone in the room.
He grabbed Alexander and pulled him behind a marble pillar.
Another bullet struck the wall.
The boy crawled beneath a table.
Alexander looked at Victor.
“You knew this was coming.”
Victor nodded.
“They’re here for the boy.”
“Why?”
Victor looked toward the frightened child.
“Because he witnessed something he was never supposed to see.”
“What?”
Victor hesitated.
Then he said:
“Your father’s murder.”
Alexander’s blood ran cold.
“My father wasn’t murdered.”
Victor slowly shook his head.
“That is what they wanted you to believe.”
Suddenly, Alexander heard a tiny sound beneath the table.
The boy was crying.
But not from fear.
He was staring at something on the floor.
A small golden key.
He picked it up with trembling hands.
Alexander crawled toward him.
“Where did you get that?”
The boy looked at the key.
“My sister gave it to me.”
“What does it open?”
The boy swallowed.
“She told me…”
He looked at Alexander.
“If anything happens to her, I should give this key to the richest man I ever meet.”
Alexander stared at him.
“Why me?”
The boy slowly turned the key over.
Engraved on the back were three words:
BALZAC FAMILY VAULT.
Alexander’s face went pale.
Because he knew something the boy didn’t.
That vault had been sealed for twelve years.
And only one person still had the key.
His father.
