Chapter 9: The Manual Override

I didn't nap. I waited until the sound of Eleanor’s nurse taking her to physical therapy faded down the hallway, then I bolted to my car.

The drive to the Vane Construction HQ was a blur of highway and adrenaline. I kept checking the rearview mirror, half-expecting to see Richard’s Range Rover or Eleanor’s black sedan tailing me. The paranoia Richard accused me of was now my co-pilot.

I parked in the underground garage, miles away from the reserved executive spots. I took the stairs up to the 14th floor, my keycard trembling in my hand as I swiped it.

*Access Granted.*

The office was buzzing with mid-morning activity. Phones ringing, printers churning, the low hum of deals being made. I walked past the receptionist, who smiled and said, "Good morning, Mrs. Vane."

I didn't correct her. *Mrs. Vane.* Which one?

I locked myself in my office and pulled the blinds. I didn't turn on the overhead lights, just the desk lamp, creating a pool of interrogation-style illumination.

I logged into the internal server. Not the insurance portal this time—I needed the source code. I needed to know *where* the data was coming from.

I pulled up the Beneficiary Modification Log. Every change to a corporate policy was tracked here. Every keystroke.

I scrolled back.

2024. 2023. 2015.

The log was pristine. My name appeared on the health insurance, the 401k, the dental plan. *Elena Vane. Elena Vane. Elena Vane.*

But the Key Man Life Insurance policy was missing from the general ledger. It was siloed. Hidden.

I accessed the "Executive Vault" sub-directory. It required a second password. I typed in the one Richard had given me years ago: *VaneLegacy2000*.

*Incorrect Password.*

I tried again. *Incorrect Password.*

I tried variations. *EleanorVane.* *VaneEmpire.* *MoneyPits.*

Nothing worked. I was locked out of my own company's files.

I leaned back, staring at the screen. If I couldn't get in through the front door, I'd have to find a window.

I opened the network diagnostic tool. I traced the IP address of the last successful login to the Key Man file.

The cursor blinked. The system pinged.

*Last Access: Yesterday, 11:42 PM.*

That was while I was arguing with Richard. While he was telling me I was crazy.

*Source IP: 192.168.1.45*

I frowned. That was an internal IP address. Someone inside the Vane network had accessed the file last night.

I pulled up the device map for the Manor. We had a sophisticated smart-home system; every device was tagged.

*192.168.1.10 - Main Office (Richard)*
*192.168.1.25 - Library (Eleanor)*
*192.168.1.15 - Kitchen (Me)*

I scrolled down the list, my finger tracing the lines on the screen. Where was .45?

I found it at the bottom of the list, labeled simply: *Guest_Node_Alpha.*

My breath caught.

The Guest House.

Catherine’s house.

But Catherine didn't have a computer. Richard had said so explicitly. "She doesn't use technology, Elena. It upsets her."

I looked at the timestamp again. 11:42 PM.

Someone in the guest house had logged into the secure executive vault using an administrator password I didn't even have.

Was it Richard? Had he snuck out after our fight?

Or was it Catherine? The woman who stared at flowers and mumbled about Paris?

I grabbed my bag. I needed to see that room. I needed to see if there was a computer hidden among the easels and the madness.

The IP address didn't lie. And it was pointing a finger straight across the courtyard.