The royal banquet hall went completely silent after one necklace changed everything.

With Vincent’s security team monitoring every internal line, we began a secret, frantic investigation into the original 2006 kidnapping files. We relocated to the underground archives of the palace—a vaulted bunker constructed of reinforced concrete beneath the wine cellars.

Julian laid out the old police manifests on a large steel table under a single fluorescent lamp.

"Look at the ransom notes," Julian said, pointing to three yellowed pieces of paper enclosed in plastic sleeves. "Twenty years ago, the kidnappers demanded fifty million euros. My father prepared the wire transfers, but the drop-off was canceled at the last minute because the police raided the warehouse in Vienna. The kidnappers vanished with Anastasia, and no further demands were ever made."

"Because they didn't want the ransom," I said, leaning over the table, my fingers tracing the digital scans of the wire transfer authorizations. "Look at the signature on the authorization form, Uncle Julian. Your father... did he always sign with his left hand?"

Julian frowned. "No, my father was fiercely right-handed. He had a tremor in his left hand from an old hunting accident."

"Then why is the signature on the fifty-million-euro transfer signed with a left-handed lean?" I asked, pulling up my phone to display a photo of my grandfather's verified signatures from the family journals. "Look at the ink pressure. It’s consistent throughout, but the slant is entirely wrong."

Vincent leaned in, his tactical light illuminating the edges of the document. "It’s a forgery. A high-level forgery executed by someone who had access to the Duke's private desk seals. The money was transferred, Julian. The police raid on the warehouse was a distraction. The fifty million euros left the royal account, but it didn't go to kidnappers. It was routed into a private vault at the Vane Bank in Zurich."

"My God," Eleanor whispered from the shadows of the vault. "My husband didn't lose his granddaughter to random criminals. He was robbed from within his own house. Richard... my late husband... he never knew the money left."

"And the person who signed it?" I asked.

Vincent pulled up the security logs from the night of November 14, 2006—the night the wire transfer was executed. "Only three people were in the private study that evening. The Duke, Baron Maximillian Vane... and Lady Beatrice, who was serving as her father's corporate secretary at the time."

Suddenly, the heavy steel door of the archive bunker clicked.