Chapter 4 - The Night Our Fathers Died
We escaped Evan by driving through an alley behind the warehouse.
Daniel sat in the back.
Hannah was beside me.
Nobody spoke for several minutes.
Finally, I asked,
“What happened that night?”
Daniel stared through the window.
“Dad was going to expose Marcus Vale.”
“So he had evidence.”
“Yes.”
“Hannah's father knew.”
“Yes.”
“And Evan?”
“He was already working for Marcus.”
I tightened my hands around the wheel.
“What happened?”
Daniel sighed.
“Our father called a meeting.”
He told me everything.
Our father intended to leave the criminal side of the business.
He wanted to protect us.
He had discovered Evan was moving money through our warehouses.
Hannah's father, Samuel Cole, helped him document it.
Then Evan arrived.
He wasn't alone.
Marcus's men came with him.
A confrontation followed.
Our father was shot.
Samuel was shot.
Daniel escaped through a loading tunnel.
He thought I had been killed too.
But I had been asleep in another building.
Evan told me our father died in a car accident.
Then he told me Daniel was dead.
I believed him.
For twelve years.
Hannah stared at the floor.
“My father died the same night.”
Daniel nodded.
“He saved my life.”
“What did he give you?”
“The Bible.”
Hannah looked at me.
“I have it.”
We returned to her apartment.
The Bible was old.
Leather-bound.
Nothing unusual.
Until Hannah showed us the spine.
Inside was a narrow compartment.
A memory card.
I inserted it into Daniel's laptop.
Documents appeared.
Payments.
Bank accounts.
Property records.
Names.
Our businesses.
Political donations.
Police officers.
Judges.
And one folder labeled:
MERCER CHILDREN.
I clicked it.
There were photographs of Nathan and Daniel as children.
School records.
Medical records.
Addresses.
Then a document that made me stop breathing.
A birth certificate.
Mine.
The name of my biological mother was different from the woman who raised me.
I looked at Daniel.
“What is this?”
He looked away.
“What did you know?”
“My whole life.”
“Daniel.”
“She wasn't our biological mother.”
I couldn't believe it.
Our father had adopted us.
Our real mother had died when we were infants.
But there was more.
A second document.
Hannah's father had discovered that our father wasn't simply a businessman.
He had once been an undercover federal informant.
He had been dismantling Marcus Vale's operation from the inside.
That made our childhood make sense.
The secrecy.
The bodyguards.
The moves.
The constant warnings.
But one question remained.
Why had our father kept Evan close?
Daniel answered.
“Because Dad believed Evan was his son.”
Hannah looked confused.
“His son?”
“Not biologically.”
Our father had treated Evan like family.
Evan had betrayed him.
That betrayal was why Daniel disappeared.
He couldn't trust anyone.
Not even me.
I was furious.
But beneath the anger was grief.
My entire identity had been constructed around stories that weren't true.
Then Hannah touched my arm.
“You're not your father's choices.”
I looked at her.
“How do you know?”
“Because I've watched you for three weeks.”
“You've been watching me?”
“Of course.”
She smiled faintly.
“You're difficult.”
“I've heard that.”
“But you pay attention.”
“To what?”
“People.”
“No one ever said that about me.”
“I just did.”
Something changed between us.
The air became quieter.
I reached for her hand.
She didn't move away.
Then the apartment door exploded.
Gunfire ripped through the room.
I pushed Hannah down.
Daniel fired back.
A bullet struck the laptop.
Another hit the wall.
When the shooting stopped, two men were dead.
One had a tattoo on his wrist.
A black crown.
Daniel recognized it.
“Marcus Vale's organization.”
I looked at Hannah.
“Pack a bag.”
“Why?”
“Because you're not safe here.”
She stared.
“I don't want a mansion.”
“You're coming with me anyway.”
“That sounds like kidnapping.”
“I prefer relocation.”
“That's kidnapping with better vocabulary.”
Despite everything, she smiled.
We escaped to my lake house.
For the first time, Hannah saw a part of my life no one else did.
No guards inside.
No business meetings.
Just books.
Music.
Silence.
She walked into the library.
“You read.”
“I told you.”
“You said you used to.”
“I stopped.”
“Why?”
“After Daniel disappeared.”
She looked at me.
“Why did you stop?”
“Because books reminded me of him.”
She approached the shelves.
Then pulled out an old novel.
A photograph fell from inside.
Two boys.
Me and Daniel.
She smiled.
“You were happy.”
“We were.”
She put the photograph back.
Then asked,
“Do you trust me?”
I answered honestly.
“I want to.”
She stepped closer.
“That's enough for now.”
Then she kissed me.
It was brief.
Soft.
Unexpected.
And terrifying.
Because for the first time, I had something to lose.
At midnight, my security system alerted me.
Someone had entered the property.
We checked the cameras.
There was only one figure.
A woman.
She walked directly to the front door.
When I opened it, she looked at me.
She was elderly.
Gray hair.
A scar across her cheek.
She held out a photograph.
“Your mother wanted you to have this.”
I stared.
“That woman is dead.”
The stranger shook her head.
“No.”
May you like
She smiled.
“She isn't.”
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