CHAPTER 8 — MY FATHER WAS NEVER DEAD
“Dad?”
The word barely escaped my lips.
My father stood in front of me.
Alive.
Older.
Harder.
But unmistakably him.
For fifteen years, I had carried the memory of his funeral.
The black dress.
The flowers.
My mother's trembling hands.
The closed coffin.
The priest telling me that some losses could never be repaired.
I had believed every word.
Now the man I had mourned since childhood was standing ten feet away from me.
And he was smiling.
Not the smile I remembered.
This one was cold.
Calculated.
A stranger wearing my father's face.
Daniel immediately stepped in front of me.
“Stay behind me.”
My father laughed softly.
“Still playing the hero, Daniel?”
Daniel froze.
“You know me.”
“I knew your father.”
“That isn't what I asked.”
My father looked at him.
“I know exactly who you are.”
Alejandro raised his weapon.
“Who the hell are you?”
My father turned toward him.
“Your father's greatest mistake.”
Alejandro's expression hardened.
“Answer the question.”
“I am Elias Rivera.”
My knees nearly gave out.
“My father…”
“Yes.”
I stared at him.
“You let me believe you were dead.”
He shrugged.
“It was necessary.”
“Necessary?”
My voice cracked.
“I cried for you.”
“I know.”
“I watched them bury you.”
“I know.”
“I thought you abandoned me.”
His expression didn't change.
“I watched from a distance.”
I couldn't understand.
“Why?”
He looked at the baby monitor.
“Because you were safer without me.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
His eyes narrowed.
“You were born into a war you never understood.”
“What war?”
“The Castillo war.”
Daniel stepped forward.
“What did you do to Emily's family?”
My father smiled.
“Ask your father.”
“He's dead.”
“So you were told.”
Daniel's expression changed.
“What?”
My father laughed.
“Now you understand how this works.”
The room went silent.
Everyone thought the other person was dead.
Everyone had been lied to.
Everyone had been manipulated.
And somehow, Victoria stood at the center of it all.
I looked at her.
“You knew my father was alive.”
“Yes.”
“You knew Daniel was alive.”
“Yes.”
“You knew my son was alive.”
“Yes.”
“You knew Alejandro's child was alive.”
“Yes.”
I felt sick.
“You planned all of this.”
Victoria's expression remained calm.
“I protected my family.”
“You destroyed mine.”
She looked at me.
“Your family destroyed mine first.”
“What did my father do?”
Victoria smiled.
“He stole something.”
My father interrupted.
“Enough.”
Victoria turned toward him.
“You don't control this anymore.”
“I control everything.”
“No.”
She lifted her gun.
“I have the children.”
My father looked toward the nursery.
“And I have the key.”
He reached into his coat.
He pulled out a small black box.
Alejandro stared at it.
“What is that?”
“The Castillo trust.”
Daniel's face changed.
“My father gave you that?”
“No.”
My father looked at me.
“He gave it to your mother.”
I froze.
“My mother?”
He nodded.
“She was the original trustee.”
Alejandro stared at him.
“That means…”
“She controls the inheritance.”
Daniel stepped forward.
“But she died.”
My father smiled.
“Another lie.”
I couldn't breathe.
“My mother is alive?”
He didn't answer.
Instead, he opened the box.
Inside was a gold pendant.
I recognized it immediately.
My mother wore it every day.
She had told me it was a family heirloom.
My father held it up.
“This contains the genetic key.”
I stared at it.
“The half-moon?”
“Yes.”
Victoria suddenly looked afraid.
My father noticed.
“You thought you had destroyed every record.”
Victoria's face hardened.
“I destroyed enough.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“You destroyed the wrong family.”
Daniel moved toward him.
“Where is Emily's mother?”
My father answered:
“Safe.”
“Where?”
“You'll know when it's time.”
I couldn't take it anymore.
“Stop talking in riddles!”
Everyone went silent.
I stepped forward.
“My whole life has been lies.”
I pointed at my father.
“You were dead.”
I pointed at Victoria.
“She was lying.”
I looked at Daniel.
“You knew things you never told me.”
Then Alejandro.
“You didn't know your own child existed.”
My voice broke.
“And my son is somewhere on this island.”
I looked directly at my father.
“So tell me the truth.”
He stared at me.
For a long moment, I saw something in his eyes.
Regret.
Then he lowered the gun.
“The truth is…”
He stopped.
A scream came from upstairs.
A baby's scream.
My entire body reacted.
“My son!”
I ran.
Daniel followed.
Alejandro followed him.
Victoria shouted:
“Stop!”
Nobody listened.
We raced up the staircase.
The nursery door was open.
Two cribs stood inside.
One was empty.
The other contained a baby.
I rushed toward it.
But stopped.
The child was crying.
I looked at his foot.
No birthmark.
My heart sank.
“This isn't him.”
Daniel stepped closer.
“How do you know?”
“Because my son has the mark.”
The baby cried harder.
I picked him up anyway.
He immediately stopped.
I stared at him.
His eyes were blue.
My son's eyes were brown.
“This is Alejandro's child.”
Alejandro took him carefully.
The baby's fingers wrapped around his.
He began crying.
Alejandro's face collapsed.
“My son.”
I stepped back.
“Where is Elias?”
A slow clap came from the doorway.
Adrian.
He smiled.
“You're getting better.”
I turned.
“Where is my son?”
He pointed toward the window.
“Gone.”
“What?”
“Victoria moved him.”
Daniel rushed to the window.
Below us, a black helicopter was lifting off.
I screamed.
“Stop them!”
Alejandro ran downstairs.
Daniel followed.
I stood frozen.
Then I saw something on the floor.
A tiny silver bracelet.
I picked it up.
Inside was an engraving.
E.R.
My initials.
Emily Rivera.
But beneath them was another word.
MOTHER.
My hands trembled.
Then I noticed a small folded note beneath the bracelet.
I opened it.
Three words.
YOUR MOTHER KNOWS.
I looked at my father.
He was standing in the hallway.
“Where is she?”
He stared at me.
“Somewhere Victoria can never reach.”
“Take me to her.”
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Because if you go to her…”
He paused.
“…Victoria will follow.”
I looked toward the window.
The helicopter disappeared over the ocean.
“My son is on that helicopter.”
My father shook his head.
“No.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“Victoria didn't take your son.”
“Then who did?”
He looked at Adrian.
Adrian smiled.
“I did.”
Daniel rushed toward him.
Adrian raised his gun.
“Don't.”
Daniel stopped.
Adrian looked at me.
“I took the baby because Victoria was going to kill him.”
I stared.
“Why should I believe you?”
“Because I'm the reason he is alive.”
Daniel stepped forward.
“You're lying.”
Adrian looked at him.
“Then explain why your son isn't on the helicopter.”
Daniel froze.
My father looked toward the sky.
“The helicopter was a decoy.”
I turned toward him.
“Then where is my son?”
My father walked toward me.
He touched my shoulder.
“Your son is exactly where Victoria never thought to look.”
“Where?”
He whispered:
“With your mother.”
I stopped breathing.
“My mother has him?”
He nodded.
“She's had him since the night he was born.”
Everything went silent.
I couldn't move.
“My mother…”
“Yes.”
“She's been raising my son?”
“No.”
He looked into my eyes.
“She has been hiding him.”
“From Victoria?”
“From everyone.”
“Why?”
“Because your son isn't just the Castillo heir.”
He looked at the baby Alejandro was holding.
“Your son carries something far more dangerous.”
I swallowed.
“What?”
My father opened the black box.
Inside was an old photograph.
My mother.
Holding a newborn baby.
My son.
And beside her stood a man.
Daniel's father.
Alive.
The photograph was dated:
March 18 — 3:12 A.M.
The exact hour my son was supposedly declared dead.
I stared at it.
Then I saw the final detail.
Written on the back in my mother's handwriting:
“If Emily ever discovers the truth, tell her the baby's blood is not the only thing that belongs to the Castillo family.”
I looked at my father.
“What does that mean?”
He didn't answer.
Because the nursery door suddenly slammed shut.
A lock clicked.
Smoke began pouring underneath it.
Daniel grabbed me.
“Down!”
Alejandro covered the baby.
My father shouted:
“Everyone out!”
But before we could move, a speaker crackled overhead.
Victoria's voice filled the room.
“You wanted the truth, Emily?”
I looked up.
“Then here it is.”
A screen flickered on.
Victoria appeared.
Behind her stood a woman.
An older woman.
Her hair was silver.
Her face was pale.
But I knew her instantly.
My mother.
She was holding my son.
Victoria smiled.
“Your mother has been hiding him for three months.”
My blood froze.
Then Victoria leaned toward the camera.
“But she didn't steal him.”
She smiled.
“Emily…”
“She gave him to me.”
My mother began crying.
And then she whispered four words:
May you like
“Forgive me, my daughter.”
I realized the person who had betrayed me first wasn't Victoria. It was my own mother.
