CHAPTER 18 — CHRISTMAS MORNING
At 7:14 p.m., the entire room went silent.
Elias Vale's message remained on James's phone.
I KNOW WHAT YOU'RE PLANNING.
Then:
DON'T TRUST VICTOR.
And finally:
AND DON'T TRUST ME.
I stared at the screen.
“Why would my father say that?”
James didn't answer immediately.
He studied the message.
Then he looked at Rebecca.
“What did Elias do in 1998?”
Rebecca's face had gone completely still.
“What do you mean?”
“You heard him.”
“He wasn't there.”
James's eyes narrowed.
“You just said he wasn't there.”
Rebecca looked away.
I felt my stomach tighten.
“Mom.”
She didn't respond.
“Mom, look at me.”
Slowly, Rebecca turned.
“You lied again.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“I was trying to protect you.”
“Everybody keeps saying that.”
My voice broke.
“My father lied. My mother lied. My sister lied. My grandfather lied. Victor lied.”
I stepped closer.
“Who am I supposed to believe?”
Rebecca whispered:
“Yourself.”
James suddenly raised a hand.
“Quiet.”
Everyone froze.
He was listening.
A faint sound came from outside.
An engine.
Then another.
Then another.
Lauren looked toward the window.
“They're here.”
James checked the clock.
7:21 p.m.
“Too early.”
He moved to the curtain.
Three black SUVs stopped at the end of the road.
No headlights.
No plates visible.
James stepped back.
“Victor isn't waiting until eleven-thirty.”
My father stood.
“What do we do?”
James looked at him.
“We don't panic.”
He turned to Lauren.
“Take Rebecca downstairs.”
Anna looked at him.
“And us?”
“You two stay together.”
I frowned.
“Why?”
“Because you're the key.”
“To the vault?”
“No.”
James looked at Anna.
“To each other.”
Anna and I exchanged a confused glance.
James continued.
“Victor has spent twenty-three years trying to separate you.”
Rebecca whispered:
“Because the trust requires both bloodlines.”
“Exactly.”
James took out the original will.
He placed it on the table.
Then he opened the black recorder.
“We have one advantage.”
“What?”
“He thinks the original is still in the chapel.”
My father shook his head.
“He'll search the estate.”
“Let him.”
James picked up the phone.
“He'll find the fake.”
I suddenly understood.
“You want him to think we're still following the original plan.”
“Yes.”
“What about Elias?”
James looked at the photograph again.
“He'll come.”
“How do you know?”
“I don't.”
That answer frightened me more than certainty would have.
James continued:
“But I know one thing.”
He looked at Rebecca.
“Elias has been watching this family for twenty-three years.”
Rebecca closed her eyes.
“He wouldn't let Victor take Emma.”
James nodded.
“That's what I'm counting on.”
A crash came from upstairs.
Everyone jumped.
Then another.
Glass breaking.
James drew his weapon.
“Stay here.”
He moved toward the stairs.
I grabbed his arm.
“James.”
He looked at me.
“Don't leave me.”
His expression softened.
“I won't.”
Then he kissed my forehead.
And disappeared upstairs.
Seconds passed.
Five.
Ten.
Then—
A gunshot.
I screamed.
Anna grabbed my hand.
Rebecca shouted:
“James!”
We ran toward the stairs.
But before we reached them, James appeared.
Unhurt.
He had a man by the collar.
The intruder's face was bleeding.
James pushed him onto the floor.
“Three more outside.”
My father stared.
“How did they get in?”
James looked at the broken window.
“Through the basement.”
Lauren whispered:
“Victor.”
James nodded.
“He's testing our defenses.”
I looked at the clock.
7:38.
“We need to leave.”
“No.”
James shook his head.
“We need Victor to believe we're trapped.”
He turned to me.
“You're going to the estate.”
My heart dropped.
“Now?”
“No.”
“At eleven-thirty.”
“But Anna?”
“She'll go with you.”
Rebecca shook her head.
“No.”
James looked at her.
“Your daughters are the only reason Victor will enter the estate himself.”
Rebecca's voice trembled.
“And if he hurts them?”
James's answer was quiet.
“He won't get the chance.”
A phone rang.
Not James's.
Mine.
I answered.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Then a man's voice.
My blood ran cold.
“Emily.”
I knew that voice.
Victor.
“Where is Emma?”
He laughed.
“You don't need to worry about the baby.”
“Where is she?”
“Safe.”
“Let me hear her.”
A pause.
Then I heard a baby's cry.
Emma.
I nearly collapsed.
“Mommy?”
Victor laughed softly.
“She has your voice.”
My hands shook.
“Let her go.”
“Bring me the will.”
“You said eleven-thirty.”
“I changed my mind.”
“When?”
“Now.”
James held out his hand.
I gave him the phone.
He spoke calmly.
“You want the will?”
“Yes.”
“You'll get it.”
“Tonight?”
“No.”
James looked at me.
“Tomorrow morning.”
Silence.
Then Victor said:
“You think you're clever, Captain.”
“No.”
James smiled.
“I know exactly what you are.”
“What?”
“A man who has spent his whole life believing he controls everyone.”
Victor's voice hardened.
“You have no idea who you're dealing with.”
James replied:
“Actually, I do.”
He hung up.
I stared at him.
“Why did you do that?”
“Because Victor just made a mistake.”
“What?”
“He admitted Emma is alive.”
James held up his phone.
“The call was recorded.”
My father looked at him.
“That won't be enough.”
“No.”
James opened another file.
“But this will.”
It was a photograph.
Victor.
Thomas.
And a third man.
Standing together.
The date was December 24, 1998.
Christmas Eve.
The night of the fire.
I stared at the picture.
Rebecca began to cry.
“I remember that night.”
“Who is the third man?”
She whispered:
“Elias.”
I looked at her.
“You said he wasn't there.”
“I lied.”
“Why?”
Rebecca looked at the photograph.
“Because he was the one who helped me start the fire.”
Silence.
She continued.
“We planned it together.”
My heart sank.
“We were going to disappear.”
“And Thomas?”
“He found out.”
“What happened?”
“He came after us.”
Rebecca's voice trembled.
“Elias fought him.”
“And?”
“Thomas shot him.”
I remembered Thomas's words.
Your father never abandoned you.
“But Elias survived.”
Rebecca nodded.
“He survived.”
“Then why did he disappear?”
“Because he believed Thomas would kill you if he stayed.”
James stepped closer.
“So Elias became a ghost.”
Rebecca nodded.
“For twenty-three years.”
The room went silent.
Then Anna spoke.
“Why would he tell us not to trust him?”
Rebecca looked at her.
“Because Elias has spent twenty-three years doing something terrible.”
“What?”
“He became exactly what Thomas feared.”
I stared at her.
“What does that mean?”
Rebecca whispered:
“He built his own network.”
James's expression hardened.
“Military?”
“Security. Intelligence. Financial contacts.”
Anna looked shocked.
“He's been fighting Thomas.”
Rebecca shook her head.
“No.”
She looked toward the window.
“He's been fighting everyone.”
A vehicle stopped outside.
One person stepped out.
A man in a dark coat.
He looked older than the photograph.
Scar across his jaw.
Gray at his temples.
But I knew him immediately.
My father.
Elias Vale.
He looked toward the house.
Then directly at me.
He raised one hand.
Not waving.
Warning.
James moved in front of me.
Elias stopped.
Then he held up a small object.
A red ribbon.
Emma's.
My blood turned cold.
He had been near my daughter.
James opened the door.
Elias shouted:
“Don't!”
James froze.
Elias looked at me.
“I didn't take her.”
“Then where is she?”
“Victor has her.”
“Why do you have her ribbon?”
Elias looked down.
“I got this from the man who did.”
He tossed it onto the ground.
Then he said:
“You have forty minutes.”
“For what?”
“Before Victor moves Emma.”
James asked:
“To where?”
Elias looked toward the estate.
“The mausoleum.”
Rebecca's face went white.
“No.”
Elias nodded.
“He knows about the final vault.”
James looked at the clock.
8:02.
Then at me.
“We're going.”
Elias shook his head.
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
“Because there's one thing you don't know.”
“What?”
Elias looked directly at me.
“Victor doesn't have Emma.”
I stared.
“Then who does?”
Elias's eyes hardened.
“Thomas.”
My heart stopped.
But Thomas was in the hospital.
May you like
Elias continued:
“He escaped.”
