CHAPTER 17 — THE TRAP JAMES SET
We didn't go home.
James took us somewhere Victor would never expect.
The old Walker guesthouse.
It sat nearly three miles from the estate, hidden behind a line of pine trees.
There were no cameras.
No smart locks.
No connected devices.
Nothing that could be remotely accessed.
James had spent years learning how to disappear.
Now he was teaching all of us.
Lauren sat on the floor with her knees against her chest.
My father was beside her.
Anna was helping Rebecca clean the wound on her arm.
Thomas had survived.
Barely.
He had been taken to a secure hospital under another name.
But the most important thing was the recorder.
James connected it to a laptop.
“Victor will come for this.”
Rebecca nodded.
“He always has.”
“Then we'll give him what he wants.”
I looked at James.
“You mean the recorder?”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“The second will.”
I frowned.
“We have the original.”
“Yes.”
“And Victor wants it.”
“Yes.”
“So we give it to him?”
James shook his head.
“We give him a copy.”
Anna understood first.
“And make him think it's real.”
“Exactly.”
Lauren looked up.
“But Victor knows the vault.”
James smiled faintly.
“He thinks he does.”
My father stared at him.
“What did you change?”
“Nothing.”
James placed a small device on the table.
“I changed the story.”
I looked at him.
“What does that mean?”
“The final vault doesn't contain the original will anymore.”
Rebecca's eyes widened.
“You moved it?”
“No.”
James looked at me.
“You moved it.”
I stared.
“When?”
He pointed to the envelope in my hand.
I suddenly remembered.
The envelope Rebecca had given me.
The one I had carried out of the chapel.
“You knew.”
“I suspected.”
James leaned back.
“Victor believes the vault contains the original will.”
“It doesn't.”
“No.”
“So what does it contain?”
“A document designed to make Victor confess.”
Rebecca stared at him.
“You forged it?”
“No.”
James smiled.
“We modified a copy.”
Anna looked impressed.
“And Victor will think he found the original.”
“Yes.”
Lauren whispered:
“What happens when he signs?”
James looked at her.
“He won't sign.”
“Then how do you get a confession?”
“Pressure.”
My father frowned.
“Victor isn't careless.”
“No.”
James nodded.
“That's why we give him something he can't resist.”
He opened another file.
A bank statement.
Eight million dollars.
Victor's offshore account.
Lauren stared.
“Where did you get that?”
“Thomas.”
“Thomas had it?”
“He had access.”
Rebecca looked at the document.
“That account belongs to Victor.”
“Yes.”
“He'll kill for it.”
“Exactly.”
James opened another file.
A second account.
Then a third.
Then dozens.
Shell companies.
Law firms.
Trusts.
Payments.
Names.
Dates.
Twenty-three years of transactions.
Lauren's face went pale.
“Those are the payments he made to me.”
James nodded.
“And to dozens of others.”
My father leaned closer.
“What is this?”
“Evidence.”
James clicked another file.
There was Victor's signature.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Payments to Clara Bennett.
Payments to hospital employees.
Payments to investigators.
Payments to security contractors.
Payments to Lauren.
And one payment that made the room go silent.
$2,000,000 — Rebecca Walker — December 24, 1998.
Rebecca stared at it.
“I never received that.”
James nodded.
“I know.”
“Then where did it go?”
He opened the transaction trail.
The money moved through five shell companies.
Then into one final account.
V. HALE PRIVATE HOLDINGS.
Victor had paid himself.
Rebecca whispered:
“He financed the fire.”
“Yes.”
The room became silent.
I looked at my mother.
“You said you started it.”
Rebecca nodded.
“I lit the fire.”
She closed her eyes.
“But Victor made sure it became a murder scene.”
I understood.
She had started the fire to create an escape.
Victor had turned it into a weapon.
James closed the laptop.
“Now we know what Victor wants.”
“What?”
“The second will.”
“And the trust.”
“Yes.”
“And me.”
James looked at me.
“No.”
“Then what?”
“Your signature.”
I stared.
“What signature?”
“The authorization.”
He opened the final document.
The emergency transfer form.
“If you sign this, Victor gains temporary control.”
“And then?”
“He transfers everything.”
“Into his own accounts.”
“Yes.”
“Then we let him think I signed.”
James nodded.
“How?”
Anna smiled.
“Use me.”
Everyone looked at her.
James shook his head.
“No.”
Anna stepped forward.
“I look like her.”
“That's exactly why.”
“She can sign.”
“No.”
Anna looked at me.
“I've spent twenty-eight years being hidden.”
She smiled sadly.
“Maybe it's time being hidden becomes useful.”
Rebecca immediately objected.
“No.”
Anna turned toward her.
“You gave me away to save Emily.”
Rebecca froze.
“Now let me save her.”
I looked at Anna.
“You're sure?”
She nodded.
“Yes.”
James remained silent.
Finally he said:
“Then we do it my way.”
He explained the plan.
Victor would receive a message.
The second will had been recovered.
The trust would be transferred at midnight.
I would meet Victor at the Walker estate.
I would sign the emergency authorization.
And Anna would secretly record everything.
But there was one more piece.
Lauren.
James looked at her.
“You're going to contact Victor.”
Lauren's face drained.
“He'll know.”
“He won't.”
“How?”
“You'll tell him you're scared.”
She laughed bitterly.
“I am scared.”
“Good.”
James handed her a phone.
“Then don't act.”
Lauren stared at the screen.
“What do I say?”
James dictated the message.
Lauren typed.
I found the second will. Emily has it. She'll sign tonight. I can get you inside.
She pressed send.
Three seconds.
Five.
Ten.
Then the phone vibrated.
Victor replied.
WHERE?
Lauren looked at James.
He nodded.
She typed:
Walker estate. 11:30.
Victor answered immediately.
COME ALONE.
Lauren looked terrified.
James took the phone.
He typed:
I will.
Then he deleted the message.
“No.”
He handed it back.
“You're going to send this instead.”
Lauren read it.
I won't go alone. Emily trusts me. She'll come.
Victor responded.
BRING HER.
James smiled.
“Exactly.”
I looked at him.
“You want Victor to believe I'm coming.”
“Yes.”
“But I'm not.”
“No.”
“Who is?”
Anna raised her hand.
Me.
My twin.
My reflection.
The woman Victor had never known existed.
James looked at both of us.
“At 11:30, Victor will think he's finally won.”
He placed the recorder on the table.
“At 11:31, he'll confess.”
Rebecca whispered:
“And at midnight?”
James looked at the clock.
“At midnight, the trust activates.”
He paused.
“And every account Victor controls freezes.”
My heart raced.
“What happens to Walker Consolidated?”
James smiled.
“Forty-one percent transfers to Emma.”
“And the eight million?”
“Released to the descendants of Rebecca Walker.”
Anna looked at me.
“Both of us.”
“Yes.”
For the first time, we smiled at each other.
But then James's phone rang.
He answered.
His face changed.
“What?”
A pause.
“Are you sure?”
Another pause.
“Keep him alive.”
He hung up.
I stood.
“What happened?”
James looked at me.
“Thomas woke up.”
“And?”
“He gave us one more name.”
“Whose?”
James looked at Rebecca.
“Elias.”
My heart stopped.
“He said Elias isn't hiding.”
“Then where is he?”
James looked toward the window.
“He's been watching the estate.”
Rebecca's face went white.
“No.”
James nodded.
“He was the man outside the nursery.”
I froze.
“The man with the scar?”
“No.”
James shook his head.
“Thomas had the scar.”
“Then who was watching Emma?”
James opened a photograph.
The image was grainy.
A man stood across from our house.
Older.
Broad shoulders.
Dark coat.
And unmistakably—
Elias Vale.
Alive.
Rebecca covered her mouth.
I stared at the photograph.
My biological father had been watching my daughter.
For how long?
James answered the question before I could ask.
“Twenty-three years.”
Then his phone vibrated again.
A message appeared.
I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE PLANNING.
Another message followed.
DON'T TRUST VICTOR.
Then a final one.
AND DON'T TRUST ME.
I looked at James.
“Who sent it?”
He turned the screen toward me.
The name was saved as:
ELIAS VALE.
The clock read 7:14 p.m.
We had less than five hours until midnight.
May you like
And suddenly, the man we'd spent twenty-eight years believing was dead—
was asking us not to trust him.
