CHAPTER 16 — MY BIOLOGICAL MOTHER WASN'T THE MONSTER I EXPECTED
Pain.
Water.
Darkness.
Those were the only three things I remembered.
Then—
someone grabbed my wrist.
I opened my eyes underwater.
Dominic.
He was pulling me toward the surface.
I kicked.
My lungs burned.
We broke through the water.
I gasped.
Dominic dragged me toward a floating piece of wreckage.
“Are you hurt?”
“I don't know.”
“Can you move?”
“Yes.”
“Then hold on.”
I grabbed the wreckage.
The boat was gone.
The shoreline was hundreds of yards away.
The SUVs were gone too.
So were Richard and Vanessa.
A trap.
A perfect one.
Dominic looked around.
“No one followed.”
“How do you know?”
“I don't.”
Then something struck the water beside us.
A rope.
Dominic grabbed it.
A small fishing boat emerged from the darkness.
The man steering it wore a hood.
“Get in.”
Dominic raised his gun.
The man lifted both hands.
“Michael sent me.”
I froze.
“Who are you?”
“My name is Ethan.”
“Who is Michael?”
“Your father.”
Dominic looked at me.
“Get in.”
We climbed aboard.
The man started the engine.
I watched the burning remains of the boat disappear behind us.
“Where are we going?”
“To your mother.”
“Linda?”
“No.”
My heart stopped.
“Isabella.”
The safe house was an old farmhouse nearly two hours outside Chicago.
No guards.
No cameras.
No luxury.
Just a wooden house surrounded by fields.
Ethan opened the door.
A woman was waiting inside.
She stood near the fireplace.
Her hair was silver at the temples.
Her face carried twenty-seven years of pain.
But I knew her immediately.
Isabella.
My biological mother.
She looked at me.
Neither of us spoke.
Then she whispered:
“You have your father's eyes.”
My throat tightened.
“Which father?”
She closed her eyes.
“Michael.”
I stopped.
“You knew?”
“Yes.”
“You knew he was alive?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I thought you were dead.”
I stared at her.
“Richard told you.”
“Yes.”
“And you believed him.”
“I had no reason not to.”
She walked closer.
“I watched him carry your blanket away.”
“What?”
“The night you disappeared.”
Her voice cracked.
“Richard told me you died before I could reach you.”
“Why didn't you look for me?”
“I did.”
“For how long?”
“Twenty-seven years.”
I laughed bitterly.
“You wrote letters.”
She looked at me.
“You found them.”
“Yes.”
“I never knew if you received them.”
“I didn't.”
She looked toward Ethan.
“He kept them.”
I turned.
“Who?”
“Gabriel.”
Everything stopped.
Gabriel had kept the letters.
For twenty-seven years.
Why?
Isabella sat down.
“Gabriel was the only person I trusted.”
“But he lied to everyone.”
“Yes.”
“He let us believe he was dead.”
“Yes.”
“He staged his own death.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To protect you.”
I was exhausted by that answer.
Everyone had an explanation.
Everyone had a reason.
Everyone had secrets.
And I was always the last person to know.
I sat across from her.
“Tell me everything.”
Isabella nodded.
“You deserve that.”
She told me about Alexander Moretti.
Her father.
The founder of the network.
A man who had turned secrets into power.
When Isabella was twenty-two, she tried to destroy his organization.
She failed.
Instead, she inherited it.
Anthony helped her.
At first, they wanted to dismantle everything from inside.
Then Dominic was born.
And months later—
me.
“When I learned I was carrying twins,” Isabella said, “I knew Alexander would use you.”
“Why me?”
“Because Michael was your father.”
I stared.
“Michael wasn't just an investigator.”
“No.”
“He was…”
“My greatest mistake.”
She looked at me.
“And my greatest love.”
I couldn't speak.
“Anthony knew,” she continued.
“He raised Dominic as his own.”
“And me?”
“You were hidden.”
“Because Michael wasn't powerful enough?”
“Because Michael was the only man Alexander couldn't control.”
I swallowed.
“What happened to him?”
“He discovered the original ledger.”
“The one Gabriel has?”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn't Michael expose it?”
“Because the ledger contained more than names.”
“What else?”
Isabella looked at me.
“Evidence that could bring down governments.”
My stomach tightened.
“And people would kill to keep it hidden.”
“Yes.”
“Richard.”
“Yes.”
“Charles Whitmore.”
“Yes.”
“Gabriel?”
She hesitated.
“Gabriel betrayed me.”
I frowned.
“But he protected me.”
“He did both.”
“How?”
“He stole the ledger.”
“From you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he realized I had become too much like my father.”
Silence.
I looked at her.
“Were you?”
Isabella's eyes filled with tears.
“Yes.”
That answer surprised me.
She didn't defend herself.
Didn't make excuses.
“Yes,” she repeated.
“I hurt people.”
“I frightened people.”
“I built an empire I once swore I would destroy.”
She looked at her hands.
“And when I realized what I had become, it was too late.”
I felt something shift inside me.
She wasn't asking me to forgive her.
She was admitting what she had done.
“What happened eight years ago?”
Isabella's expression changed.
“Richard found out Michael and Anthony were planning to expose the network.”
“And?”
“He arranged the Northstar attack.”
My heart stopped.
“My father's accident.”
“Yes.”
“Anthony's disappearance.”
“Yes.”
“Gabriel?”
“Escaped.”
“And Michael?”
“Survived.”
I closed my eyes.
“He survived.”
“Yes.”
“Then why did he stay away?”
“Because Richard threatened you.”
“Again.”
Isabella nodded.
“He showed Michael photographs of you.”
“My delivery job?”
“Your apartment.”
“My mother.”
“Everything.”
I whispered:
“So Dad sacrificed his life.”
“Yes.”
I opened my eyes.
“And you?”
“I spent eight years trying to find him.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Until now?”
“Yes.”
I frowned.
“Then why did Richard have him?”
Isabella looked toward the window.
“Because Richard isn't working alone.”
My stomach tightened.
“Who?”
She looked at me.
“Someone inside the Moretti family.”
Dominic stepped forward.
“Who?”
Isabella stared at her son.
Then said:
“Your uncle.”
Dominic froze.
“My uncle died before I was born.”
“No.”
Isabella shook her head.
“He changed his name.”
“What's his name now?”
She hesitated.
Then whispered:
“Samuel Reeves.”
I felt the blood drain from my face.
The doctor.
The man who had supposedly examined my father after the Northstar accident.
The man who testified Michael was alive for six hours.
The man who disappeared afterward.
The man who knew my father was alive.
Dominic stared at her.
“Samuel Reeves is my mother's brother?”
“Yes.”
I remembered the medical records.
The dialysis payments.
The hospital.
The forged death report.
Everything connected.
Then my phone vibrated.
One message.
From an unknown number.
A photograph.
My father.
Alive.
Bound to a chair.
And standing beside him—
Dr. Samuel Reeves.
The message underneath said:
YOU HAVE ONE HOUR.
BRING THE LEDGER.
OR MICHAEL CARTER DIES.
I looked at Isabella.
She stood immediately.
“Where?”
Dominic looked at the photograph.
“Northstar.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
Everyone looked at me.
I stared at the image.
At my father's face.
At Samuel Reeves.
At the building behind them.
And then I noticed something.
A small symbol painted on the wall.
The black circle.
With the number:
36.
I remembered the memory card.
17-04-36.
The first two numbers had been locations.
But now I understood.
Thirty-six wasn't a location.
It was a room.
Room 36.
And it was where my father had been kept for eight years.
I stood.
“We're going back to Northstar.”
Dominic nodded.
Isabella reached for a gun.
I stopped her.
“No.”
She looked at me.
“This time…”
I picked up the black key.
“…I'm going in first.”
And for the first time in twenty-seven years—
my biological mother looked at me like a daughter.
Not a secret.
Not a weapon.
Not an heir.
Her child.
She whispered:
“Be careful, Avery.”
I looked at Dominic.
Then at my father’s photograph.
“I've been careful my whole life.”
May you like
I closed my hand around the key.
“Now I'm done being afraid.”
