Chapter 5 - The Ledger Beneath The Family Chapel

The family chapel had been closed since my mother's death.

I had never understood why.

Now I knew.

The chapel stood behind the estate beneath a line of ancient oak trees.

Marcus brought six men.

I brought no more.

Too many people meant too many possible leaks.

Rosalie stayed with the housekeeper.

I didn't want her anywhere near the danger.

The chapel smelled of dust and cedar.

I walked to the altar.

My father had said beneath the old family chapel.

There was only one way in.

A stone beneath the floor.

We lifted it.

A staircase descended.

The air was cold.

At the bottom stood a metal door.

No lock.

No handle.

Only the initials D.C.

I touched them.

The door opened.

Inside was a room.

Shelves.

Files.

Photographs.

Boxes.

And a single wooden table.

On it sat the ledger.

Black leather.

No label.

I opened it.

Names filled the pages.

Judges.

Police officers.

Businessmen.

Politicians.

People who had built their reputations while secretly working for Victor Harlan.

Then I saw something else.

A list of payments.

One name appeared again and again.

Dominic Cole.

My father.

I froze.

He had been part of it.

Not a leader.

But involved.

I turned the page.

Daniel had written notes in the margins.

He knew.

He had confronted our father.

That was why Daniel had been killed.

Not because he found the network.

Because he was going to expose our own family.

A note on the final page read:

Ethan must never know until Lena is safe.

I sat down.

For years, I had hated the people I thought killed my brother.

Now I discovered my father had helped create the system that killed him.

But there was more.

A second envelope contained letters.

The last one was from Daniel.

Ethan,

I know what you're going to feel.

Anger.

Betrayal.

Maybe even hatred.

But don't repeat my mistake.

Do not become obsessed with revenge.

Protect Rosalie.

Protect Lena.

Then walk away.

Build something better.

I cried.

I don't remember the last time I cried for my brother.

Maybe I had forgotten how.

Behind me, Marcus spoke.

"Boss."

I turned.

He was holding a photograph.

Victor Harlan.

Martin Vale.

Derek Mercer.

And someone else.

My father.

All standing together.

The network had been inside my family from the beginning.

Then the lights went out.

A shot cracked through the room.

Marcus fell.

"Move!"

I pulled him behind the table.

Another bullet struck the wall.

Three men entered.

I recognized one.

Derek.

He smiled.

"Give me the ledger."

I stood.

"You killed my brother?"

"No."

"Then who did?"

Derek shook his head.

"You still don't understand."

He looked at the ledger.

"Victor wants the names."

"Why?"

"Because you weren't supposed to find them."

One of his men fired.

I ducked.

Marcus returned fire.

The room erupted.

We pushed them back.

Derek escaped.

But one attacker remained.

He was wounded.

I grabbed him.

"Who gave you the order?"

He laughed.

"Your father."

I stared.

"Impossible."

"He doesn't want the ledger exposed."

My father was dying.

Why would he still protect them?

Then I realized.

Maybe he wasn't protecting them.

Maybe he was protecting me.

I ran upstairs.

My father was gone.

His room was empty.

A nurse stood trembling.

"He left twenty minutes ago."

"With who?"

She shook her head.

A man had taken him.

Victor.

I called Marcus.

"Lock down the city."

"Boss?"

"My father has been taken."

I looked at the chapel.

The ledger in my hand felt heavier than any weapon.

I had wanted the truth.

Now I had it.

And the truth had become dangerous enough to get my father kidnapped.

My phone vibrated.

A video message.

Victor appeared.

Beside him stood my father.

"Give me the ledger."

I said nothing.

Victor smiled.

"Or your father dies."

Then my father looked directly into the camera.

He said three words.

"Don't trust him."

Victor ended the video.

I stared at the screen.

He had spoken softly.

But I understood.

My father wasn't warning me about Victor.

He was warning me about someone else.

Someone inside my own circle.

Someone I trusted.

Someone who knew exactly where the ledger was.

I looked at Marcus.

He was pale from blood loss.

"Who knew we were coming here?"

He thought.

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Then his face changed.

"Martin."