Chapter 6 - The Man Who Was Supposed to Be DeadFor several seconds, none of us moved.
The man stood in the doorway.
Same height.
Same dark hair.
Same gray eyes.
Same scar above his eyebrow.
Andrew.
My brother.
The man I had buried twelve years earlier.
My mouth went dry.
“Andrew?”
His expression tightened.
“Jack.”
Daniel stepped between us.
“Who are you?”
The man looked at him.
“My name is Andrew Callahan.”
I almost laughed.
It was impossible.
“You died.”
“I know.”
“You died twelve years ago.”
“I didn't.”
My hands began shaking.
“What happened?”
He closed the door behind him.
“I was trying to protect you.”
“From what?”
“Our father.”
The room became silent.
I stared at him.
“You're saying Dad wanted me dead?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“He wanted you out of the business.”
“What business?”
“The family land.”
Andrew walked toward us.
“Dad discovered that Richard Whitmore was trying to buy controlling interests in several properties.”
“We know that.”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“You don't know the worst part.”
He placed a folder on the table.
Inside were photographs.
Bank transfers.
Contracts.
Recordings.
Then one photograph stopped me.
My father.
Richard Whitmore.
Michael Graves.
And a fourth man.
I didn't recognize him.
“Who is that?”
Andrew looked at me.
“Your uncle.”
“My uncle died before you.”
“That's what everyone believed.”
My head spun.
“What?”
Andrew sighed.
“Uncle Charles disappeared.”
“Disappeared?”
“He faked his death.”
Daniel stared at him.
“Why?”
“Money.”
Andrew opened another document.
Charles had created shell companies.
Those companies eventually became Whitmore Holdings.
My entire body went cold.
“So Karen…”
“Karen is Charles's granddaughter.”
I understood.
“She thought she was helping her family.”
“Yes.”
“Does she know?”
“No.”
“Then who is running this?”
Andrew looked at me.
“Your cousin.”
“Which cousin?”
“Ethan.”
I froze.
Ethan was my cousin.
He had moved to Europe years ago.
I hadn't spoken to him in nearly a decade.
“He's alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Inside Whitmore Holdings.”
I stared at Andrew.
“How did you survive?”
He sat down.
“The motorcycle accident was real.”
“What?”
“I survived.”
“But…”
“Dad's security team found me.”
“Why didn't you come home?”
“Because someone tried to finish the job.”
I couldn't breathe.
“Who?”
“Ethan.”
Silence.
Andrew looked at me.
“I disappeared because it was the only way to keep you alive.”
My eyes burned.
“You let me believe you were dead.”
“I know.”
“Dad let me believe you were dead.”
“I know.”
“Why?”
“Because if they knew you were the heir to the ranch, they would have come for you.”
I looked down at the documents.
“So Karen's birthday party…”
“Was a test.”
“A test?”
“To see whether you would challenge the ownership claim.”
“And when I did?”
“They knew you were still here.”
My phone buzzed.
A text message.
Unknown number.
Leave the ranch by midnight.
Another message arrived.
Next time, your children won't be with you.
My blood turned to ice.
Andrew saw my face.
“What happened?”
I showed him.
His expression became murderous.
“They know about the boys.”
I stood.
“We're going home.”
Daniel grabbed his folder.
“No.”
I looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because if they're watching the ranch, that's the first place they'll expect you to go.”
Andrew nodded.
“He's right.”
I looked between them.
“Then where?”
Andrew gave me an address.
“My old house.”
“It's abandoned.”
“Exactly.”
That night, we drove there.
My sons were with a trusted friend.
I couldn't risk bringing them into the middle of this.
The old house stood at the edge of town.
Dusty.
Dark.
Forgotten.
Andrew opened the door.
Inside was a wall covered with photographs.
My father.
Our family.
The ranch.
The Whitmores.
Everything connected.
Then I saw one photograph that made my blood run cold.
It showed Karen standing beside a young woman.
The woman was holding a baby.
I recognized her.
She was my mother.
Andrew stood beside me.
“That's where this started.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
May you like
He pointed to the baby.
“You.”
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