Chapter 2 - The Man Who Knew Her Bloodline Before She DidThe mansion became chaos.
Brooks had trained himself to think during violence.
Ana had not.
She crouched behind the piano while gunfire cracked against the walls.
Dust fell from the chandelier.
A body hit the marble staircase.
Brooks fired twice.
“Stay down.”
Ana nodded.
Her breathing shook.
“Who are they?”
“I don't know yet.”
“You're lying.”
He looked at her.
“I know who they work for.”
“Who?”
“Alexander Grimwald.”
The name meant nothing to her.
That frightened her more.
Brooks grabbed her hand.
“Come.”
They ran through a hidden passage behind the dining room.
Ana stumbled.
Brooks caught her.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“You're bleeding.”
“I cut my hand.”
He looked.
A small piece of glass had sliced her palm.
He tore a handkerchief and wrapped it.
“You're too calm.”
He gave her a strange look.
“I've learned not to panic.”
“I haven't.”
“I know.”
They reached a secure room beneath the estate.
Ana stared at the reinforced steel door.
“Where are we?”
“My private safe room.”
“You have one?”
“Yes.”
“You really are a mafia boss.”
He almost smiled.
“Yes.”
She looked at him.
“Should I be afraid of you?”
“Probably.”
“At least you're honest.”
“I try to be.”
He opened a cabinet.
Inside were photographs.
Ana's mother.
Her childhood.
Her grandmother.
And one photograph of a young woman holding a baby.
Ana picked it up.
“That’s me.”
“Yes.”
“And that's my mother.”
“Yes.”
“Who took this?”
“Your father.”
She looked up.
“My father was there?”
“Yes.”
“Who is he?”
Brooks hesitated.
Then he gave her the name.
“Adrian Grimwald.”
Ana stared.
“Grimwald?”
“Yes.”
“Alexander Grimwald?”
“His son.”
“Then my father is...”
“A man raised inside one of the most violent families in the region.”
She shook her head.
“My mother always said my father was dead.”
“He wasn't.”
“Where is he?”
Brooks looked away.
“Dead now.”
The truth hit harder than the gunfire.
“Who killed him?”
Brooks was silent.
Ana stepped closer.
“You know.”
“Yes.”
“Tell me.”
“Alexander.”
She stared.
“Your grandfather killed your father.”
Her knees nearly gave out.
Brooks caught her.
“Sit.”
“No.”
She pulled away.
“My whole life is a lie.”
“I know.”
“My mother lied.”
“She was protecting you.”
“From my own family.”
“Yes.”
Ana laughed bitterly.
“That sounds insane.”
“Your family is insane.”
She looked at him.
“You knew all this.”
“I knew some of it.”
“Why bring me here?”
“To see whether you remembered the house.”
“And?”
“You did.”
“Why does that matter?”
“Because there is something hidden here.”
“What?”
“Evidence.”
“Against whom?”
“Alexander.”
Ana frowned.
“And you need me to find it.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because the house belonged to your father.”
She looked toward the ceiling.
“The evidence may only respond to your memories.”
“What kind of evidence?”
“A ledger.”
She remembered the blue folder her mother had burned when Ana was seventeen.
A single page had escaped.
A symbol.
The same symbol carved into the piano.
Ana walked back to the grand piano.
She knelt.
Under the frame was a tiny brass plate.
She pressed it.
A compartment opened.
Inside lay a black leather ledger.
Brooks stared.
“You found it.”
Ana touched the cover.
“I've seen this.”
“When?”
“In my dreams.”
He looked at her.
“Your mother trained you to remember.”
“Why?”
“Because she knew one day you'd need it.”
They opened the ledger.
Names.
Payments.
Judges.
Police officers.
Businessmen.
Politicians.
And beneath them, photographs.
One showed Alexander.
Another showed Adrian.
A third showed a woman Ana recognized.
Maggie Ryder.
Her mother.
Beside her name was one word.
Witness.
Ana began crying.
“She wasn't lying because she didn't love me.”
“No.”
“She was lying because she did.”
Brooks nodded.
“Exactly.”
Ana wiped her eyes.
“What happens now?”
“Now you decide.”
“Decide what?”
“Whether you disappear again.”
Ana looked at the ledger.
Then at Brooks.
“No.”
“What?”
“I've been invisible my entire life.”
She closed the book.
“I'm done.”
His expression changed.
“You don't know what you're saying.”
“I know exactly what I'm saying.”
She stepped closer.
“You hired me because you thought I was harmless.”
“I hired you because I thought you might be brave.”
“And?”
Brooks looked at her.
“You're braver than I expected.”
Ana smiled faintly.
“That's probably the first compliment I've had in years.”
He looked at her hand.
The cut had reopened.
He gently took it.
“You need stitches.”
“I'll survive.”
“That's not enough.”
She looked up.
“What is?”
He held her gaze.
“Living.”
Neither spoke.
The moment lasted too long.
Then the alarm sounded.
Brooks released her.
“Someone found us.”
“Already?”
“Yes.”
He locked the ledger inside his coat.
“Stay behind me.”
Ana nodded.
They escaped through another tunnel.
Outside, snow had begun falling.
A car waited.
Brooks opened the door.
Ana hesitated.
“I don't know you.”
“I know.”
“You could be lying about everything.”
“I could.”
“But you're the only person who has told me anything.”
“Yes.”
She entered.
Brooks closed the door.
As he walked around the car, Ana looked at the necklace.
Then at his reflection in the window.
She suddenly remembered another image.
A young Brooks placing the necklace around her little neck.
And her mother saying:
“If he ever comes back, trust him.”
Ana whispered:
“Mom knew you.”
Brooks stopped.
“How?”
“She said your name.”
“What name?”
Ana looked at him.
“Brooks.”
He slowly opened the driver's door.
May you like
The past had just become present.
And neither of them knew what the future would demand.
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