Chapter 13 — THREE HOURS IN THE DARK
The first thing I heard was water dripping.
Slow.
Steady.
One drop at a time.
I opened my eyes.
Darkness swallowed everything.
For several seconds, I couldn't remember where I was.
Then the pain behind my head came rushing back.
Union Station.
The blackout.
A hand over my mouth.
Tyler screaming.
Vincent shouting my name.
And then nothing.
I tried to move.
My wrists were tied behind a metal chair.
My ankles were bound.
My mouth was free.
That told me something immediately.
They wanted me conscious.
They wanted me able to speak.
I swallowed.
My throat felt dry.
"Hello?"
My voice echoed through the darkness.
No answer.
I pulled against the restraints.
The chair scraped against concrete.
"Is anyone there?"
A light suddenly snapped on.
I flinched.
A single fluorescent bulb hung above me.
I was inside an abandoned industrial room.
Concrete walls.
Rusty pipes.
A cracked window covered by plywood.
No furniture except the chair I was sitting on.
And a small table.
On the table sat my blue file.
My stomach tightened.
They had taken it.
Or at least they wanted me to think they had.
A man stood beside the table.
Not Tyler.
Not Elias.
Someone younger.
Gray jacket.
Dark hair.
Cold eyes.
He looked at me without emotion.
"You're awake."
"Where is my mother?"
He smiled faintly.
"Still alive."
"Let me talk to her."
"Not yet."
I stared at him.
"Where's Vincent?"
His expression changed.
That tiny reaction told me more than his words ever could.
"You don't need to worry about him."
"I didn't ask whether I needed to worry."
I leaned forward as far as the restraints allowed.
"I asked where he is."
The man walked closer.
"You're remarkably calm."
"I'm terrified."
He stopped.
I looked directly into his eyes.
"But I'm not stupid."
For the first time, he seemed slightly amused.
"Your father used to say the same thing."
My heart stopped.
"What did you say?"
He turned toward the table.
"Your father."
I stared at him.
"You knew him?"
"No."
He picked up the blue file.
"But I knew what he was building."
"What was he building?"
He didn't answer.
Instead, he opened the file.
Page after page.
Names.
Bank accounts.
Property transfers.
Shell companies.
Political donations.
Judicial appointments.
Private security contracts.
Everything connected.
Everything Vincent had warned me about.
Everything my father had spent years hiding.
The man closed the file.
"You think this is about money."
"I know it's about more than money."
"Good."
He leaned closer.
"Then you understand why so many people are willing to kill for it."
I stared at him.
"Who are you?"
He smiled.
"Someone who has been cleaning up your father's mistakes for seven years."
Seven years.
The number struck me like a physical blow.
Seven years.
The same seven years Vincent had been watching me.
The same seven years since my father disappeared.
I studied the man's face.
"You work for Elias."
"No."
That answer came too quickly.
"Then you work for Vincent."
His jaw tightened.
"No."
I smiled despite myself.
"Then you're afraid of both of them."
He slapped the table.
The blue file jumped.
"Don't play games with me."
I looked at him quietly.
"You brought me here because you need something."
Silence.
"You could have killed me at the station."
Nothing.
"You didn't."
I nodded toward the file.
"So whatever you want is not inside that folder."
His eyes narrowed.
"What makes you think that?"
"Because if it were, I'd already be dead."
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then the man laughed.
A low, humorless sound.
"Your father really did teach you."
"He taught me to question people who refuse to answer."
The door opened.
Tyler walked inside.
My chest tightened.
He looked terrible.
His expensive suit was wrinkled.
His lip was split.
There was dried blood on his collar.
But what shocked me most was his expression.
He looked afraid.
He stopped when he saw me.
"Emily."
I turned my face away.
"Don't."
He swallowed.
"I didn't know they'd take you."
"You sold me."
"I sold information."
"You sold my mother."
His face collapsed.
"I didn't know Elias would—"
"You knew exactly what he was."
Tyler looked down.
The man beside the table stepped toward him.
"Did you bring what I asked for?"
Tyler nodded.
"Yes."
He handed over a small envelope.
The man opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
He looked at it.
Then at me.
My stomach dropped.
"What is that?"
He didn't answer.
Tyler did.
"It's your father's last known photograph."
I froze.
"Where did you get it?"
Tyler shook his head.
"I didn't."
The man slipped the photograph back into the envelope.
"Someone gave it to him."
"Who?"
He smiled.
"You're asking the wrong question."
I stared at him.
"What should I ask?"
He leaned toward me.
"Why would your father photograph himself three years after everyone believed he was dead?"
My breathing stopped.
Three years.
The same photograph Elias had shown Vincent.
My father's face.
Alive.
Older.
Standing somewhere I didn't recognize.
I remembered Elias's words.
Your father was alive.
He disappeared underground.
He never told Vincent where he hid the evidence.
I looked at the man.
"Where is my father?"
He didn't answer.
"Where is he?"
"That's what everyone wants to know."
"Does Elias know?"
A pause.
"Maybe."
"Does Vincent know?"
Another pause.
"Not everything."
I felt something shift inside me.
Not everything.
That was important.
Vincent had spent seven years protecting me.
But even Vincent didn't know everything.
Maybe nobody did.
Except my father.
A sound came from the hallway.
Footsteps.
Fast.
The man looked toward the door.
Tyler's face went pale.
Then the lights went out.
Again.
Darkness.
But this time, I wasn't helpless.
I had been watching.
The moment before the lights disappeared, I had noticed something.
The man's left hand.
A black ring.
My father's photograph had shown the same symbol.
My heart pounded.
The ring wasn't Elias's.
It was identical.
Someone else had it.
I heard a struggle.
A crash.
Someone cursed.
Then a gunshot.
Tyler screamed.
I kicked the chair backward.
The metal legs slammed into the floor.
I fell hard.
Pain shot through my shoulder.
But my hands were still tied.
I crawled.
Blind.
Toward the sound of the table.
My fingers touched the blue file.
I grabbed it.
Then something else.
A small metal object.
A key.
I recognized it instantly.
I had thought it belonged to my father.
But maybe it belonged to something else.
I shoved it into my palm.
Footsteps rushed toward me.
I rolled behind the chair.
A flashlight swept across the room.
Someone shouted.
"Find her!"
I held my breath.
Then I heard a familiar voice.
"Emily!"
Vincent.
My eyes filled with tears.
"I'm here!"
A gunshot cracked through the room.
Vincent shouted something.
The flashlight fell.
The room went dark again.
I heard men fighting.
Then another voice.
Female.
"Emily!"
Vanessa.
I couldn't believe it.
She appeared beside me holding a small knife.
"Don't scream."
"Untie me."
She cut through the restraints.
I rubbed my wrists.
"Where's my mother?"
"Safe."
"How do you know?"
"Because I got her out."
I stared at her.
"What?"
"I told you I wasn't working for Tyler."
"You were lying."
"I was protecting myself."
She grabbed my arm.
"We have seconds."
"Who are you?"
Her eyes hardened.
"Later."
She pulled me toward a side door.
I stopped.
"Where's Vincent?"
"He'll find you."
"I am not leaving without him."
Vanessa stared at me.
For one second, something almost like respect crossed her face.
Then she nodded.
"Then stay behind me."
We stepped into the hallway.
A siren sounded somewhere outside.
The building shook with distant shouting.
I looked back at the room.
The man with the black ring was gone.
So was Tyler.
And so was the blue file.
My blood ran cold.
Then Vincent appeared at the end of the corridor.
His shirt was torn.
Blood stained his shoulder.
But he was standing.
He saw me.
For a second, neither of us moved.
Then he crossed the distance between us.
He grabbed my face gently.
"Are you hurt?"
I shook my head.
"I'm okay."
He closed his eyes.
Just for a moment.
As if hearing those words had returned oxygen to his lungs.
Then he looked at Vanessa.
His expression turned cold.
"What are you doing here?"
She met his stare.
"Saving the woman you failed to protect."
Vincent's jaw tightened.
"Careful."
Vanessa didn't move.
"You should be asking why Elias wanted Emily taken alive."
Vincent looked at me.
"Why?"
I opened my hand.
The metal key rested in my palm.
His expression changed.
"Where did you get that?"
"From the man with the black ring."
Vincent stared at it.
Then at Vanessa.
"That's not Elias's ring."
"I know," she said.
"Whose is it?"
Vanessa's face went pale.
She whispered:
"Your father's."
Silence.
The world seemed to stop.
Vincent looked at me.
And for the first time since I had met him...
He looked genuinely afraid.
Then he said something that made my blood run cold.
"Emily, we have to leave Chicago."
I stared at him.
"Why?"
He looked toward the dark hallway.
"Because whoever took you tonight wasn't trying to get the blue file."
May you like
He paused.
"They were testing whether your father was ready to come back."
