Chapter 13 - The Prisoner’s LedgerWe had neutralized the immediate threat, but Pierce was a billionaire. He would simply buy a new weapon. We needed to cut the head off the snake, and to do that, we needed the master ledger of Vanguard Holdings.

We needed an insider.

On a rainy Tuesday, I drove to the minimum-security federal penitentiary in Indiana. I did not bring Julian. This was a conversation that required absolute, solitary precision.

I sat in the sterile, cinderblock visitation room, staring at the thick glass partition.

The heavy steel door opened, and Bennett Hawthorne walked in.

He was wearing a drab khaki uniform. He had lost weight. The perfectly styled hair was gone, replaced by a harsh buzzcut. The golden boy of Chicago high society was entirely broken.

He sat down across from me, picking up the telephone receiver. His hands were shaking. I picked up mine.

"Vivian," Bennett said, his voice hollow. "I didn't expect you."

"I am not here to check on your wellbeing, Bennett," I said smoothly, looking at him with total emotional detachment. "I am here because Alexander Pierce just tried to frame Claire for money laundering."

Bennett flinched at Pierce’s name, his eyes darting nervously toward the guard standing by the door. "Pierce is untouchable, Vivian. You need to drop it. He will kill you."

"He will certainly try," I agreed. "Which is why I am going to bankrupt him first. You laundered his money through the California vineyard. You were the signatory on the offshore transfers. I need the name of the bank in the Caymans where he hides the master ledger for Vanguard Holdings."

Bennett let out a bitter, exhausted laugh. "And why would I give that to you? You put me in here."

"You put yourself in here," I corrected sharply. "And Pierce let you take the fall. He abandoned you the second the FBI started asking questions. Your family lost their estate. Your mother is a social pariah. Pierce walked away with his billions while you lost everything."

Bennett stared at the metal table, his jaw clenching as the reality of his betrayal washed over him again.

"If you give me the ledger," I said softly, leaning closer to the glass, "I will ensure the federal prosecutor knows you provided actionable intelligence on a major syndicate. It won't get you out of prison today. But it will shave years off your sentence. And more importantly, you get to ruin the man who threw you to the wolves."

Bennett looked up at me. For the first time in the five years I had known him, he didn't look at me with condescension. He looked at me with profound, terrified respect. He realized that the quiet sister he had ignored at family dinners was the most dangerous person he had ever met.

"It’s not in the Caymans," Bennett whispered into the receiver. "Pierce is arrogant. He keeps a physical, encrypted server drive hidden in plain sight. It’s in the private vault at his flagship hotel in downtown Chicago. The code name is 'Icarus'."

I memorized the information instantly.

"Thank you, Bennett," I said, standing up.

"Vivian," Bennett called out, his voice cracking. "Tell Claire... tell her I really am sorry."

I paused, looking back at the broken man behind the glass.

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"She doesn't need your apologies, Bennett," I said calmly. "She has her life back."

I hung up the receiver and walked out of the prison. We had the location. Now, all we needed was the opportunity.