MONEY MAKES THE WORLD SPIN

Chapter Six: The Ice Queen and the Knife’s Edge

The private jet roared through the night, cutting across the Atlantic like a black arrow. Jace sat in the cabin, knuckles white on the armrests. The news loop played endlessly on the flat screen in front of him:

“BREAKING: Daven Carter emerges as alleged true heir.”

“Jace Carter under investigation by Interpol and U.S. Justice Department.”

“Carter family feud ignites global market chaos.”

He was now a fugitive. A criminal in the eyes of half the world, Lucien’s plan was unfolding perfectly. And Noelle Varga, the next key to unlocking the Carter Consortium, had vanished just as everything caught fire.

“You’re shaking,” Elena said, seated across from him. She was bandaging the wound on her shoulder from the crash, her movements sharp and efficient. Jace forced himself to breathe.

“If Daven’s alive,” he said slowly, “then why did Elias choose me?”

“Because Elias didn’t trust Daven. He called him a poison bred by his own blood.”

“Then why keep it a secret?”

“Because even Elias knew that monsters don’t stay dead forever. He needed someone clean. Someone outside the machine. That was you.”

“But Daven showing up now…” Jace’s voice trailed off. “It’s too perfect.”

“He’s Lucien’s pawn. Victor Lang’s puppet. They planted him like a virus. And now they’re using the media to turn the world against you.”

“So what’s next?”

“We find Noelle,” Elena said. “And hope she hasn’t already been taken.”

Geneva, Switzerland.

Forty-eight hours after the press conference, A snowstorm choked the skyline. Cold. Brutal. White. The Carter Geneva Holdings building, a glass monolith known locally as “The Glacier”  stood silent behind armed security and shuttered doors. A red banner draped the front, declaring:

CLOSED FOR CORPORATE AUDIT. TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED.

Jace and Elena stood across the street in a parked car, watching. “No sign of Noelle,” Elena said. “But the building’s been locked down since the press event. Intel says Lucien’s men came through here two nights ago.”

“And if she’s still inside?”

Elena smiled coldly. “Then we break her out.” They entered the underground garage using a stolen ID from a former Carter Holdings agent, courtesy of Darius’s contacts.

The garage was eerily quiet. Just the low hum of electric lights and the scent of snow-damp concrete “Level B4,” Elena whispered. “That’s the vault lab.”

“Where she worked?”

“No. Where she hid.”

They crept through the tunnels until they reached a biometric security door. Elena slid a custom hacking spike into the lock and whispered, “Ten seconds.”

Jace raised his pistol. This time, his hands were steady. The door hissed open, They stepped into the lab The first thing they saw was blood, It stained the white tiles. Splattered the desks. Smears led down the hallway toward a sealed vault door.

Jace rushed ahead, heart pounding “Noelle?” he shouted. “Noelle Varga?!” No response. He slammed his hand against the access panel. Nothing. Locked down.

Elena joined him. “Step back.” She wired a charge and detonated the panel. Sparks flew. The vault door groaned open just enough for them to slip inside, There, huddled in the corner, chained to a desk, was Noelle Varga. Alive. Barely.

Her hair was soaked in sweat, her eyes swollen, her lip cut. But her glare was intact. Fierce and unbroken. “Took you long enough,” she rasped.

Thirty minutes later, the lab burned behind them as they escaped through the emergency evacuation shaft. Snow pelted them in the alley. Jace wrapped Noelle’s arm over his shoulder as they ducked into the car. Elena drove. In the backseat, Noelle turned to Jace and croaked, “You’re Elias’s shadow.”

Jace looked at her. “I’m his grandson.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head weakly. “You’re his clean-up. The only one who doesn’t know what Elias really did.”

Jace felt his chest tighten. “What do you mean?”

Noelle reached into her jacket and pulled out a small chip. “This is my key. It’ll unlock the second protocol. But if you want it…”

She met his eyes. “You need to read the Rorschach File.”

“What’s that?”

“Elena knows.” Jace turned to Elena, who was still driving, her jaw clenched.

“You didn’t tell me?”

“I was ordered not to.”

“By who?” Elena didn’t answer. Noelle spoke instead.

“The Rorschach File is the Carter Consortium’s darkest secret. It contains what Elias did to fund the early rise. The slave deals. The war profiting. The backdoor contracts with regimes the world thought were gone.”

Jace’s stomach turned. “That’s not true.”

“It is,” Noelle said. “And if you want my key, you have to confront it. Not destroy it. Not burn it. Own it.” They reached the Geneva safehouse just after midnight, a cabin hidden in the Alps, far from cameras or heat signatures.

Jace stared at the drive in his hand, Noelle’s words ringing like a curse, Elena handed him a secure laptop. “The file’s in there. Once you open it, there's no going back.” He hesitated.

Then opened the folder labeled: RORSCHACH – ELIAS CARTER ARCHIVE, Videos. Photos. Testimonies, Jace watched in stunned horror as a tapestry of blood, bribes, and betrayal unfolded. Elias Carter’s empire had been built on exploitation, not brilliance. On ruined lives, not innovation. And worse?

There were documents signed in Elias’s hand… addressed to a partner named: L. Ward.

Elena whispered, “Lucien Ward wasn’t just a rival. He was a founding partner.” Jace sat back, the weight of that truth crashing through his chest like a freight train.

“My grandfather and Lucien… they built this together?”

“Yes. Until Elias cut him out. Stole the patent portfolio. Framed Lucien in a financial scandal. That’s what started this war.”

Jace closed the laptop. “My whole life was a lie.”

Noelle stepped forward. “Not a lie. A setup.”

She placed the second key on the table, a silver chip etched with her signature. “Two down. One to go.” An alert flashed across Elena’s satellite phone. She read it. Froze.

“What is it?” Jace asked.

She turned the screen to him. BREAKING: Daven Carter claims control of Carter Global West. New leadership vote in 48 hours. Entire board summoned to Dubai.

Then a second message popped up. Unknown transmission: “They have Gustavo. Mexico is burning. If you want him alive, you’ll have to trade.”

The sender? Lucien Ward. Attached was a video. Gustavo Reyes, bloodied and beaten, chained to a chair.

Lucien’s voice followed: “One trade. One heir. Your life for his. Or he dies.”