CHAPTER 4 — THE NIGHT MY MOTHER WAS SUPPOSED TO DIE
The photograph trembled between my fingers.
I couldn't look away.
My mother was standing beneath a streetlamp, twenty-three years younger, her dark hair blowing across her face.
Beside her stood a man I had never seen before.
Not my father.
Not Victor Vale.
Someone else.
A man with a scar running from his left temple to his jaw.
At the bottom of the photograph, six words had been written in my mother's handwriting.
THE NIGHT YOUR MOTHER WAS SUPPOSED TO DIE.
I looked at Victor.
"Who is he?"
Victor didn't answer.
My father did.
"His name was Thomas Reed."
The name meant nothing to me.
Victor smiled.
"That's because Daniel made sure you never heard it."
My father stepped toward him.
"Don't."
Victor's smile disappeared.
"You've spent twenty-three years telling her lies."
"I protected her."
"You buried the truth."
"I kept her alive."
Victor laughed.
"Did you?"
My father went silent.
I looked between them.
"What happened that night?"
Neither answered.
My voice became sharper.
"What happened to my mother?"
Victor walked toward the desk.
He picked up the photograph.
"Your mother discovered something."
"What?"
"The original Hart family trust."
I frowned.
"My grandfather's trust?"
Victor nodded.
"Your grandfather didn't leave his company to your father."
I looked at Daniel.
He didn't move.
Victor continued.
"He left it to your mother."
My breath caught.
"What?"
"Your mother was the rightful controlling heir."
I stared at my father.
"Is that true?"
He finally nodded.
"Yes."
The word barely left his mouth.
I felt betrayed.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because the moment your mother inherited control, three people wanted her dead."
"Who?"
"Victor Vale."
Victor smiled.
"Not quite."
My father continued.
"Julian's grandfather."
I stared.
"Then why are you here?"
Victor's expression darkened.
"Because I was sent to kill her."
The room became silent.
I couldn't breathe.
My father looked at Victor.
"You failed."
Victor nodded.
"Yes."
"Why?"
He looked at me.
"Because your mother asked me a question."
"What question?"
Victor's eyes lowered.
"She asked whether I had children."
I stared at him.
"What did you say?"
"I told her no."
"And?"
"She said, 'Then you don't understand what you're about to do.'"
Victor paused.
"She was right."
He put the photograph down.
"I couldn't kill her."
My father said nothing.
"So you let her escape."
Victor nodded.
"But someone else came."
My stomach tightened.
"Who?"
Victor looked at my father.
"Your father."
I turned.
"Dad?"
My father closed his eyes.
"Your mother was supposed to disappear that night."
"Why?"
"Because the people hunting her had found her."
"Did you help her?"
"I tried."
Victor interrupted.
"You did more than try."
My father looked at him.
Victor continued.
"You took the trust documents."
My father shook his head.
"To protect them."
"You took control."
"Temporarily."
"You lied to your wife."
My father said nothing.
My chest tightened.
"Did Mom know?"
"Eventually."
"When?"
"Three months later."
"And what happened?"
My father looked at me.
"She confronted me."
"About the trust?"
"Yes."
"What did she say?"
He looked away.
"She told me she no longer trusted me."
My heart sank.
"Then what?"
"She disappeared."
I stared.
"You said she died in a car accident."
"I lied."
"Why?"
"Because she wasn't dead."
The words struck harder than anything else.
I stepped backward.
"What?"
My father continued.
"Your mother survived."
Victor nodded.
"For seventeen years."
I stared at both men.
"My mother was alive?"
"Yes."
"Where?"
My father hesitated.
"I don't know."
I shook my head.
"No."
He stepped toward me.
"Elena—"
"No."
I backed away.
"You told me she died when I was twelve."
"I believed she was dead."
"You believed?"
He lowered his eyes.
"After she disappeared, I spent years looking for her."
"Then why didn't you tell me?"
"Because the people hunting her were still watching you."
My hands were shaking.
"And Julian?"
Victor smiled.
"Now we're getting to the interesting part."
My father turned toward him.
"Don't involve him."
"He's already involved."
I looked at Victor.
"How?"
Victor picked up another file.
"Julian's company wasn't simply funded by the Hart trust."
He opened it.
"It was created to hide where the stolen money went."
I stared at the documents.
Account after account.
Shell company after shell company.
Money moving from Hart Holdings into Vale International.
Then into private accounts.
Then into another company.
And finally into an account labeled:
PROJECT ORCHID.
"What is Project Orchid?"
Victor looked at my father.
"Tell her."
My father didn't answer.
Victor did.
"It was the operation that destroyed your mother's life."
I looked at the account.
"Who ran it?"
Victor's voice became quiet.
"Your father."
I froze.
"No."
My father stepped forward.
"Elena, listen to me."
"You ran it?"
"I didn't know what it would become."
"What was it supposed to be?"
"A financial recovery operation."
"And what did it become?"
He looked at the floor.
"A war."
I felt tears burning my eyes.
"Did you betray Mom?"
"No."
"Did you steal her inheritance?"
"No."
"Did you lie to her?"
His silence was enough.
I turned away.
For five years, I had believed Julian was the greatest betrayal of my life.
Now I wasn't sure.
Victor suddenly said:
"Your father wasn't the only one."
I turned.
"What?"
"There's another Hart."
My father's face changed.
Victor smiled.
"The person who sold your mother's location."
I looked at Daniel.
"Who?"
He didn't answer.
Victor leaned closer.
"Your uncle."
I stared.
"My uncle disappeared."
"No."
Victor shook his head.
"He was never missing."
My heart stopped.
"He was working for them."
My father's voice finally broke.
"That's impossible."
Victor laughed.
"Daniel."
He stepped closer.
"You've been hunting the wrong man for twenty-three years."
My father looked at him.
"Where is he?"
Victor smiled.
"Closer than you think."
Suddenly, a gunshot echoed from somewhere above us.
The vault ceiling shook.
My father grabbed me.
"Down!"
Another shot.
Then another.
Victor pulled a weapon from beneath his coat.
My father looked toward the door.
"They found us."
"Who?"
Victor answered.
"The Hart traitor."
The vault door began to open.
My father pushed me behind the desk.
A shadow appeared in the doorway.
Then a familiar voice spoke.
"Daniel."
My blood ran cold.
It was someone I knew.
Someone I had trusted.
Someone who had stood beside my father for years.
My father's chief attorney.
Richard Cole.
He stepped into the vault.
And smiled.
"Twenty-three years."
He raised his weapon.
"I've been waiting a very long time for this."
My father stared at him.
"Richard."
Richard laughed.
"Hello, old friend."
Then his eyes moved toward me.
"And hello, Elena."
May you like
He smiled.
"You look exactly like your mother."
