CHAPTER 4 — MY MOTHER’S BIGGEST LIE
The lights came back three minutes later.
Nobody moved.
The apartment looked exactly the same.
But nothing felt the same.
I sat at the kitchen table with the metal box in front of me.
The blue folder remained closed.
My mother sat across from me.
Vincent stood near the window.
His men had checked every room twice.
Nobody had entered.
Nobody had left.
Whoever had broken the window had never intended to come inside.
They wanted us frightened.
They wanted us to know they were watching.
I looked at my mother.
"Tell me the truth."
She lowered her eyes.
"I have."
"No."
My voice shook.
"You told me enough to keep me quiet."
She looked at me.
"I was trying to keep you alive."
"You told me my father died."
"He was supposed to."
I stared at her.
"What does that even mean?"
She took a breath.
"Your father knew someone was coming for you."
"Who?"
"I never learned his real name."
"Then how did he know?"
"Because your father had worked for powerful people."
I looked at Vincent.
His expression was unreadable.
My mother continued.
"When you were seven, your father discovered that money was being moved through several companies."
"What kind of companies?"
"Construction. Shipping. Private security. Charities."
Vincent spoke quietly.
"Shell companies."
My mother nodded.
"Your father discovered millions were being transferred through them."
"Stolen money?"
"Some of it."
"Then why didn't he go to the police?"
My mother gave a bitter laugh.
"Because some of the police were being paid."
I stared at her.
She continued.
"Your father went to Vincent's father instead."
Vincent's jaw tightened.
"My father tried to expose them."
"And?"
"He was warned."
"By whom?"
"A man called Elias."
The name meant nothing to me.
But Vincent's expression changed.
"You remember him?"
My mother looked at him.
"Yes."
Vincent walked away from the window.
"Don't say that name again."
I looked between them.
"Who is Elias?"
Vincent stopped.
"Someone who should have disappeared years ago."
"Did he hurt my father?"
"He destroyed him."
My heart sank.
"How?"
Vincent looked at the floor.
"Your father planned to testify."
"Against Elias?"
"Against everyone."
"Then what happened?"
My mother answered.
"They found out."
She began crying.
"The night before your father was supposed to meet federal investigators, someone followed us."
I leaned forward.
"What happened?"
"We were driving home."
She wiped her face.
"Your father told me to take you and leave Chicago."
"You said there was an accident."
"There was."
Her voice broke.
"But it wasn't an accident."
I stopped breathing.
"What happened?"
"They rammed your father's car."
I stared at her.
"You were there?"
"Yes."
"Was Dad in the car?"
She nodded.
"What did you do?"
"I got you out."
"And him?"
Her eyes closed.
"I couldn't."
I felt tears fill my eyes.
"Did he die?"
"I don't know."
"You don't know?"
"I saw the car burn."
She swallowed.
"But I never saw his body."
I stood so quickly the chair fell backward.
"You let me believe he was dead."
"I had no choice."
"You had twenty years!"
"I was afraid."
"Of what?"
She looked at me.
"Of the people who were still watching."
The words silenced me.
I remembered every strange thing from my childhood.
The houses we moved through.
The different schools.
My mother never posting photographs online.
Never telling neighbors our last name.
Never letting me answer the door.
Never allowing me to tell anyone where my father had worked.
I had thought she was paranoid.
Maybe she wasn't.
I turned to Vincent.
"Why did you stay away?"
He looked at me.
"Because your father asked me to."
"What did he ask?"
"To protect you without becoming part of your life."
"Why?"
"Because if Elias discovered that I was close to you, he would know exactly where you were."
I laughed bitterly.
"So you watched me."
"Yes."
"For seven years."
"Yes."
"Every year?"
"Every month."
I stared at him.
"Every month?"
"Sometimes every week."
My chest tightened.
"Why?"
"Because there were attempts."
"What attempts?"
"Someone tried to access your school records."
I froze.
"Someone tried to follow you home from college."
My hands became cold.
"Someone broke into your mother's storage unit."
I looked at my mother.
She nodded.
"I never told you."
"Why?"
"Because every time you knew something, you asked questions."
"And questions were dangerous."
"Yes."
I turned back to Vincent.
"Why me?"
He was silent.
Then he said:
"Because Elias believed your father left something with you."
"The blue file."
"Maybe."
"What's inside it?"
Vincent looked at the folder.
"Open it."
My hands shook.
I opened the first page.
There were financial statements.
Names.
Dates.
Company numbers.
Then photographs.
My father meeting businessmen.
My father meeting Vincent's father.
My father meeting a man whose face had been scratched out.
I turned another page.
A handwritten note.
I recognized the handwriting immediately.
My father's.
If Emily ever sees this, I failed to protect her.
I couldn't breathe.
I read the next line.
Do not trust Tyler.
I froze.
Tyler.
My ex-boyfriend.
The man who had humiliated me in that restaurant.
The man who had spent three years telling me I wasn't enough.
I looked at Vincent.
"Why is Tyler's name here?"
Vincent's eyes darkened.
"I was hoping we wouldn't find that."
My mother covered her mouth.
I turned the page.
There was another note.
Vanessa is not who she says she is.
My entire body went cold.
"Vanessa?"
Vincent didn't answer.
The next page contained a photograph of Tyler.
Then another.
Then another.
Tyler entering a private club.
Tyler meeting a stranger.
Tyler receiving an envelope.
I stared.
"How long have you known?"
Vincent's voice was quiet.
"Six months."
"Six months?"
"I didn't know his connection to you."
"You knew he was dangerous?"
"I knew he was being watched."
"And you did nothing?"
"I was trying to determine whether he was a threat to you."
I slammed the folder shut.
"He dated me for three years."
Vincent said nothing.
"He knew where I lived."
Silence.
"He knew my mother."
Silence.
"He knew everything about me."
Vincent's expression hardened.
"That's why I kissed you tonight."
I looked at him.
"What?"
"Tyler wasn't humiliating you because he hated you."
My stomach dropped.
"He was testing something."
"What?"
"Whether I would react."
The room became silent.
I remembered Tyler's face.
The way he kept looking toward Vincent's table.
The way he smiled after insulting me.
The way Vanessa watched Vincent instead of me.
It hadn't been spontaneous.
It had been a performance.
I whispered:
"They wanted to see if you cared."
Vincent nodded.
"And now they know."
My phone vibrated.
Everyone looked at it.
Another unknown message.
This time, there was no photograph.
Only one sentence.
THANK YOU, VINCENT. NOW WE KNOW EXACTLY WHAT SHE MEANS TO YOU.
Vincent's face went completely still.
Then another message appeared.
NEXT TIME, WE WON'T TEST YOU.
He took my phone from my hand.
His eyes were no longer gentle.
They were the eyes people in Chicago were afraid of.
He looked at his men.
"Find Tyler."
Then he looked at me.
"Tonight wasn't about humiliating you."
"What was it about?"
Vincent's voice dropped.
"It was about making me reveal how far I'd go to protect you."
I stared at him.
"And you did."
He nodded.
"Yes."
My heart pounded.
"What happens now?"
Vincent looked toward the rain-covered window.
"Now they know you're important to me."
He turned back.
"And that makes you the most dangerous weakness I have."
I swallowed.
Then he added:
"But there's something they don't know."
"What?"
Vincent opened the blue folder again.
He pointed to a photograph hidden beneath the financial records.
It showed a seven-year-old me standing beside my father.
On the back, my father's handwriting contained one final sentence:
Vincent is the only man I trust with her life.
I looked at Vincent.
For the first time, I wasn't afraid of the man standing in front of me.
I was afraid of how much I wanted to trust him.
Then the phone rang.
Vincent answered.
His security chief spoke only six words.
"Sir, Tyler just disappeared."
May you like
Vincent's eyes met mine.
And I knew the game had officially begun.
