Chapter 5 - The Night I Learned Declan Shaw Could Lie to MeClara didn't speak to Declan for six hours.
She sat in the guest room with the door locked.
Not because she believed he would hurt her.
Because she didn't know what to believe.
Thomas's accusation echoed in her head.
The man who inherited it.
Declan.
At midnight, someone knocked.
“It's me.”
Declan.
Clara didn't answer.
He knocked again.
“I know what Thomas said.”
Still silence.
“I also know what you're thinking.”
She opened the door halfway.
“Do you?”
His eyes were tired.
“You think I knew.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Then why did Thomas call you the heir?”
“Because my father left me the company.”
“Not just the company.”
Declan's jaw tightened.
“No.”
She looked at him.
“What did you inherit?”
“Everything.”
The word hung between them.
“Money?”
“Yes.”
“Warehouses?”
“Yes.”
“People?”
He looked away.
“Yes.”
Clara felt betrayed.
“You knew.”
“I knew my family was criminal.”
“But not this?”
“Not the scale.”
She stepped back.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I knew you'd leave.”
“Maybe I should.”
Declan's face changed.
Something vulnerable appeared.
“Maybe.”
She had never heard that tone from him.
He wasn't ordering.
He wasn't threatening.
He was asking.
“Did you know about my mother?”
“No.”
“About Lily?”
“No.”
“About the protected children?”
“I suspected.”
“And you asked me to find the truth.”
“Yes.”
“Because you wanted to know who was betraying you?”
“Yes.”
She nodded.
Then looked at him.
“I'm sorry.”
His voice softened.
“For what?”
“For wanting to believe you.”
He stepped closer.
“You should.”
“Why?”
“Because I can lie to everyone else.”
His eyes met hers.
“But I have never lied to you.”
Her chest tightened.
He looked like he was about to say something else.
Instead, he stopped.
“Someone broke into the east wing.”
Clara stiffened.
“When?”
“Ten minutes ago.”
“Who?”
“We don't know.”
He handed her a gun.
She stared at it.
“I don't know how to use this.”
“I'll teach you.”
“I thought you said you didn't want me involved.”
“I don't.”
“Then why?”
“Because you're already involved.”
He walked her into the security room.
The monitors showed the grounds.
One camera was frozen.
Then another.
Someone had entered through the greenhouse.
Clara studied the footage.
“Stop.”
Declan paused it.
“What?”
She pointed.
“Look at the reflection.”
A figure appeared in the glass.
Tall.
Thin.
Wearing a dark coat.
Clara zoomed in.
She saw the face.
Her heart stopped.
“Elias.”
Declan stared.
The man on screen smiled.
Then the camera went black.
Declan's phone rang.
He answered.
A distorted voice spoke.
“Bring the girl.”
Declan's expression turned murderous.
“Where?”
“Warehouse twelve.”
“When?”
“Now.”
The call ended.
Clara swallowed.
“Who is he?”
Declan looked at her.
“Elias.”
“Your brother.”
“Yes.”
“He's alive.”
“Yes.”
“And he wants me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Declan didn't answer.
They drove to warehouse twelve.
It stood abandoned near the river.
The air smelled of gasoline.
Inside, lights flickered.
Elias waited.
He was older than the photograph.
But the eyes were the same.
He looked at Clara.
Then at Declan.
“Little brother.”
Declan raised his gun.
“You have one chance.”
Elias smiled.
“You still think you're in control.”
He tossed a folder onto the floor.
Clara opened it.
Inside were photographs of herself as a child.
With Elena.
With Lily.
With Victor.
With another man.
A man Clara did not recognize.
She looked up.
“Who is he?”
Elias answered.
“Our father.”
Clara froze.
Declan's eyes narrowed.
“That isn't possible.”
Elias laughed.
“You really believed that story?”
“Which story?”
“That Dad died.”
Elias's smile disappeared.
“He didn't.”
Clara felt sick.
“Victor is alive?”
“No.”
Elias looked at her.
“Victor died.”
“Then who?”
Elias pointed toward the photograph.
“Our biological father.”
Clara looked.
It was a man she had never seen.
Then she understood.
“That's not Victor.”
“No.”
“Then who is he?”
Elias whispered:
“Gabriel Shaw.”
Declan stared.
“Gabriel was Victor's father.”
“Yes.”
Clara's heart pounded.
“Why does he matter?”
Elias laughed.
“Because Gabriel had another family.”
“What family?”
“Your mother.”
Clara froze.
Elias continued:
“Victor stole the business.”
“Why?”
“Because Gabriel planned to expose the network.”
“And my mother?”
“She was his partner.”
Clara stared.
Her entire family history was becoming a maze of lies.
Then Elias looked directly at her.
“You're the last protected child.”
“What?”
“Everyone else is accounted for.”
“Why am I different?”
“Because your mother hid the original ledger inside your adoption records.”
“But the ledger is gone.”
Elias smiled.
“No.”
Declan stepped forward.
“Where is it?”
Elias looked at Clara.
“She's carrying it.”
Clara's heart stopped.
“What?”
Elias tapped his temple.
“Your mother didn't trust paper.”
He looked at the birthmark behind Clara's ear.
“She encoded the ledger into your childhood memory.”
Clara stared at him.
“That’s impossible.”
Elias smiled.
“Is it?”
He handed her a small music box.
She recognized it immediately.
It was the same melody her mother had sung.
Clara touched the lid.
It opened.
Music played.
And suddenly images flooded her mind.
A hallway.
A red door.
A basement.
Her mother's voice.
A little girl crying.
A man shouting.
A black ledger.
And one phrase:
BLUE ROOM.
Clara gasped.
Declan caught her.
“What did you see?”
She looked at him.
“The place where they kept the children.”
“Where?”
She swallowed.
“Your father's old estate.”
Declan went pale.
“It's been abandoned for twenty years.”
Clara shook her head.
“No.”
She pointed at the music box.
“The room isn't inside the house.”
“Where?”
“Under it.”
Elias smiled.
“Now you understand.”
Then he dropped the final truth.
“Your mother wasn't trying to hide you from my father.”
May you like
He looked at Declan.
“She was hiding you from yours.”
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