Chapter 3 - The Woman Everyone Believed Was Dead
Adrian spent the flight to New York staring through the window.
Eleanor sat beside him.
Theo slept against her shoulder.
For years, Adrian had believed his mother died in a highway accident.
He had been twenty-nine.
His father had been dead for eight years.
The funeral had been closed casket.
He had been told there was nothing left to see.
Now a doctor in Brooklyn had identified a woman in a burned warehouse as Celeste Blackwood.
His mother.
Alive.
Adrian looked at Eleanor.
“Did you know?”
“No.”
“You're sure?”
“Yes.”
“Then why do you look like you've seen a ghost?”
“Because your mother visited me once.”
His head snapped toward her.
“When?”
“Six years ago.”
Eleanor stared down at Theo.
“She came to the Vermont clinic where I gave birth.”
Adrian’s expression changed.
“What did she say?”
“She said your son had to disappear.”
“Why?”
“She told me if you ever learned the truth, the entire family would come for him.”
“And you believed her?”
“She knew things no stranger could know.”
“What things?”
“The lullaby your father used to sing to you.”
Adrian went still.
“No one outside the family knew it.”
“She sang it to Theo.”
He looked away.
The New York skyline emerged beneath the plane.
Seven years ago, Eleanor had believed she was choosing between loneliness and danger.
Now she realized she had been choosing between two different kinds of danger.
The helicopter landed on the roof of Blackwood Tower.
Detective Marcus Reed was waiting.
He had once been Adrian's friend.
Now he worked as an independent investigator.
“She's alive,” Marcus said.
Adrian nodded.
“Vivian?”
“In surgery.”
“And my mother?”
Marcus looked uncomfortable.
“She’s being held under heavy security.”
“Can she talk?”
“Not much.”
Adrian entered the hospital.
Vivian lay beneath a blanket, bruised and pale.
When she saw Eleanor, she began to cry.
“I tried to find you.”
Eleanor approached the bed.
“Why?”
“Because I knew what happened wasn't Adrian's fault.”
Adrian stood at the foot of the bed.
“Tell us everything.”
Vivian glanced toward the door.
“Your mother is not the one controlling this.”
“Then who is?”
“The Blackwood Foundation.”
Adrian frowned.
“My father's charity?”
Vivian nodded.
“It was never a charity.”
She took a trembling breath.
“Your father built it as a private intelligence network. Judges. Accountants. politicians. Port authorities. Police commanders.”
Adrian’s expression darkened.
“He had contacts.”
“He had leverage.”
Vivian looked at Eleanor.
“And someone has been using that network for years.”
“Who?”
“The person who knew about Theo before Adrian did.”
A long silence followed.
Vivian whispered a name.
“Jonathan Cross.”
Eleanor remembered it.
Vivian's late husband.
“The same man whose accounts were tied to the shell companies?”
“Yes.”
Adrian stared.
“Jonathan died six years ago.”
Vivian nodded.
“He was supposed to.”
Something about the sentence felt wrong.
“Explain.”
Vivian looked toward the door.
“Jonathan staged his death.”
Adrian's stomach tightened.
“Why?”
“Because your father discovered he was stealing from the family trust.”
“Was he working alone?”
“No.”
Vivian looked at him.
“He was working with your mother.”
The hospital suddenly seemed too small.
Adrian left Vivian's room.
He found Eleanor in the hallway.
“You knew about Jonathan.”
“I suspected.”
“And my mother.”
“She contacted me after Jonathan disappeared.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because every time I tried to contact you, someone followed me.”
Adrian rubbed his face.
“I don't know what to believe anymore.”
Eleanor stepped closer.
“Believe this.”
She placed Theo’s little hand in Adrian’s.
“He needs you.”
Adrian looked down.
Theo had awakened.
He was rubbing his eyes.
“Dad?”
Adrian swallowed.
“Yes.”
Theo smiled.
“I had a dream.”
“What about?”
“You were teaching me to drive a boat.”
Adrian glanced at Eleanor.
“We can arrange that.”
Theo laughed.
For a moment, the conspiracy disappeared.
Then Marcus rushed toward them.
“Adrian.”
“What?”
“Security camera footage from the warehouse.”
He handed over a tablet.
A woman appeared on screen.
Gray hair.
Elegant coat.
Walking calmly through the building before the attack.
Celeste Blackwood.
Adrian stared.
“She wasn't kidnapped.”
Marcus nodded.
“She walked in willingly.”
Then the footage changed.
A second figure appeared.
A young man.
Adrian recognized him.
His own cousin.
Nathan Blackwood.
But Nathan had disappeared ten years ago.
Adrian’s face went cold.
“Find him.”
Marcus swallowed.
“We already did.”
“Where?”
“Your father's private estate in Connecticut.”
Adrian took Eleanor and Theo with him.
The estate had been closed for decades.
Dust covered the windows.
The moment Adrian entered, the front door locked behind him.
Eleanor grabbed Theo.
A voice echoed from the staircase.
“Hello, Adrian.”
Celeste stepped into view.
Older.
Pale.
But unmistakably his mother.
Adrian's gun was in his hand instantly.
She smiled.
“You always did have your father's temper.”
“You're alive.”
“Yes.”
“You let me believe you were dead.”
“I needed the world to believe it.”
“You destroyed seven years of my life.”
Celeste looked at Eleanor.
“I didn't destroy your life.”
“No?”
“I protected the bloodline.”
Adrian laughed bitterly.
“My son isn't a bloodline. He's a child.”
Celeste's expression softened.
“He is both.”
Theo stepped from behind Eleanor.
Celeste looked at him.
For the first time, fear appeared in her eyes.
“Oh.”
She whispered it.
“He has your father's eyes.”
Eleanor pulled Theo closer.
“Stay away from him.”
Celeste looked at her.
“Do you know why Jonathan wanted him?”
“No.”
“Because the trust contains evidence.”
“What evidence?”
Celeste pointed toward a locked room.
“Proof that every major enemy your father had was funded by someone inside this family.”
Adrian opened the room.
Inside stood dozens of file cabinets.
At the center was a metal safe.
His family crest was engraved on it.
Celeste handed him a key.
“Only you can open it.”
He turned the key.
The door swung open.
Inside was a single envelope.
Adrian removed it.
His father's handwriting covered the front.
TO MY SON, ADRIAN — OPEN ONLY WHEN THE HEIR IS FOUND.
Adrian's hands shook.
He opened it.
The letter contained one sentence.
I did not trust your mother, your brother, or your friends. I trusted only the woman who would disappear to save you.
Adrian looked at Eleanor.
She stared back.
A second page fell from the envelope.
There was a photograph.
Eleanor.
Pregnant.
Standing beside a man Adrian had never seen before.
The man's face had been circled.
At the bottom of the photograph were six words.
HE IS THE REAL FATHER OF THE WAR.
Adrian looked up.
“Who is that?”
Celeste whispered:
“Your grandfather.”
Adrian frowned.
“My grandfather died before I was born.”
Celeste shook her head.
“He didn't.”
The lights went out.
A gunshot exploded in the darkness.
May you like
When the emergency lights flickered back on, Celeste was gone.
And Theo was missing.
