MONEY MAKES THE WORLD SPIN

Chapter Two: The Estate in the Dark

The chandelier trembled. The walls creaked. The estate plunged into pitch-black silence. Jace Carter stood frozen, the beeping pocket watch still in his hand, glowing faintly red, like a ticking warning from beyond the grave. “You shouldn’t have come here, Carter.”

The voice echoed again. Male. Calm. Measured. Not a shout. Not a scream. A statement. He looked around the darkened estate hall, but saw no movement, only the outlines of velvet furniture and tall windows flashing with distant lightning. The power outage wasn’t random. This was deliberate.

Jace’s instincts screamed at him to move. To run. But to where? He didn’t even know where he was. Or who he was dealing with, A sharp crack echoed from the far end of the hallway, like a door slamming open. Then another sound, Footsteps.

Heavy. Slow. Unhurried. Getting closer, He shoved the pocket watch into his jacket, heart racing, and backed away from the center of the room, Suddenly, a soft light flickered to life near the wall, a massive oil painting illuminated from a hidden fixture.

It was Elias Carter. His grandfather, Painted like a king: stern face, cold eyes, hands resting on a cane made of ivory and steel, But someone had slashed the canvas. Across the chest. With surgical precision. “Mr. Carter,” the voice called again, closer now. “This house doesn’t belong to you. It never did.”

A second voice replied in a whisper Jace could barely hear: “He should’ve stayed poor. Dead poor.” Panic hit him like a cold wave. He wasn’t alone, He spun toward the corridor, ducked low, and darted behind a column. In the distance, the emergency lights in the hallway flickered on, casting a blood-red glow over everything.

Two shadows appeared. Men. Armed. They moved with military precision, scanning corners, clearing the room like trained professionals, Jace had no weapon. No phone. No plan, And he had just inherited a $142 billion empire built on secrets he didn’t understand,  secrets someone clearly wanted buried with him.

He crawled along the wall, then slipped through a cracked door into what looked like a study. Shelves lined with leather-bound books. A desk made of dark wood. A globe bar in the corner, He shut the door as quietly as he could and turned the lock, just as a thud landed against the frame from the other side.

Someone knew he was inside, The doorknob jiggled. Jace scanned the room. No weapons. No windows. No exits, until he spotted something odd behind the bookshelf. A panel. Slightly ajar. He rushed over and tugged. It creaked open, revealing a narrow stone passage, ancient, cold, hidden behind dust and cobwebs.

Footsteps charged down the hallway Jace didn’t hesitate, He slipped into the passage and pulled the panel closed behind him just as the door shattered off its hinges, The crawlspace was narrow, damp, and steep, descending deep beneath the estate.

He moved fast, guided only by the faint emergency lights built into the floor every few meters. After several turns, the corridor opened into a low-ceilinged underground room filled with old wooden crates, some marked with foreign symbols and codes: SINGAPORE — KIEV — HONG KONG — CONFIDENTIAL.

At the center was a rusted metal table. On it, a dusty briefcase Jace wiped it clean and found a biometric lock, already blinking green, as if expecting him, He opened it. Inside were: A black pistol, A slim smartphone with no SIM, A data drive labeled PROJECT: LEGACY

And a handwritten note: If you’re reading this, they’re coming for you. Trust no one except the woman with the scar. She knows the truth. — EC

The woman with the scar? He didn’t know anyone like that.       Bang!

A shot rang out. Wood splintered behind him. They’d found the crawlspace. Jace grabbed the gun, stuffed the phone and drive into his jacket, and sprinted through the far end of the basement, Another hidden door opened into a wine cellar. He kicked through a row of racks and emerged in the main kitchen.

A tall woman in black tactical gear stood at the island counter, holding a blade dripping with blood, She looked up at him, pale face, lips pursed, and a long, jagged scar running from her left temple to her jaw.

“About time you got here,” she said, voice like icewater. “They’re ahead of schedule.”

Jace raised the gun instinctively. “Who the hell are you?”

“Elena Voss. Your late grandfather’s enforcer.”

He didn’t lower the weapon. “Why is someone trying to kill me?”

She pulled a keycard from her belt and tossed it to him. “Because you’re alive. And Elias made damn sure that meant something.”

“Who sent them?”

“Same people who killed him.” Her voice hardened. “Your blood.”

“What—?”

She turned and started walking. “Move. If we don’t leave in thirty seconds, you won’t need answers. You’ll be a headline.”

A burst of automatic gunfire tore through the dining room behind him. Jace didn’t argue. He followed, They rushed through a narrow stone hallway leading to the garage. Elena slammed her palm against a scanner and a hidden platform began to rise from the floor, revealing a bulletproof black SUV.

The roof above them rumbled. Dust fell from the ceiling, “They’re dropping the roof sensors,” Elena said. “That means air support is five minutes out.”

Air support?! This was no robbery. This was a coordinated hit, Jace jumped into the passenger seat. Elena slid behind the wheel, The doors locked with a mechanical hiss, Then she turned to him, dead serious. “You wanted answers?” He nodded.

She threw the car into gear “Good. Because if we live through the next hour, you’re going to learn who your enemies really are. And why they’ve waited your whole life for tonight.”

They burst through a hidden garage door onto a mountain road. A drone zipped overhead, scanning, Elena swerved hard, avoiding detection, driving like a woman possessed. Her movements were precise, practiced, too professional to be accidental.

“You were a ghost until last night,” she said. “Then Elias died. The moment the will was read, the wolves started circling.”

“Who are they?”

“Members of the Carter Inner Circle. Executives. Blood heirs. Secret investors. You think they’d let an outsider inherit everything?”

“I’m not an outsider. I’m his grandson.”

She glanced at him. “Then start acting like it.”

Jace grit his teeth. His hands shook, but his mind was finally sharpening, He wasn’t being tested. He was being hunted, And whoever was behind this had been waiting years to make their move, They sped down the switchback roads until they reached a secure checkpoint. Guards waved them through. Beyond it was a bunker, thick steel doors, automated turrets, and satellite dishes.

Elena parked, scanned her retina, and the gates creaked open, Inside, screens lined the walls. Maps. Names. Wire transfers. Photos, It wasn’t just a safe house. It was a war room. She motioned for him to sit. Then she activated a holographic display in the center of the room.

Twelve names appeared. “Twelve enemies,” she said. “Each one wants the consortium. Some want your title. Others want your head.” A line traced from the name Lucien Ward to an image of Elias Carter with a red X across his face.

“Lucien’s the most dangerous. CEO of Wardeon Tech. Childhood friend of your grandfather. Betrayed him twenty years ago.”

“Why didn’t anyone stop him?”

“Because Lucien doesn’t just buy companies. He buys people. Presidents. Prime Ministers. Anyone with a price tag.”

She turned to him. “You’re not fighting for an inheritance, Jace. You’re fighting for control of the global economy.”

Jace felt the weight of it now. The responsibility. The target on his back. It wasn’t about revenge anymore.

It was survival, His mother had protected him by keeping him poor. Now, he had the world at his feet, and a bullet with his name on it flying toward him from every direction.

He looked at the blinking red dot on the screen, tracking his location. Every moment, the net tightened. He had no choice. “Tell me how we fight back,” he said.

Elena nodded once. “Good. Then let’s start by erasing you.”

“What?”

“You’re dead, Jace Carter. As of tonight, your old life ends. And the new you? The heir of the most dangerous empire on earth?”

She stepped forward, face inches from his. “Better be ready to burn everything.” An alert blared across the war room screens. INCOMING TRANSMISSION — LEVEL 1 PRIORITY

The video feed flickered on. Lucien Ward appeared, seated at a long table in a skyscraper, sipping wine. Behind him stood Ava Moreno, Jace’s ex.

Lucien leaned in. “Hello, heir. I see you survived.”

He smiled coldly. “Let’s play.”