Chapter 5 - The Grave That Hid a Second Life
My father’s grave had always felt like the one place in the world that belonged entirely to us.
My mother visited every Sunday.
I visited on his birthday.
There had never been anything mysterious about it.
Until now.
Cassian stood beside me in the cemetery.
“You don’t have to do this.”
“I do.”
He nodded.
The groundskeeper opened the grave after we showed him official paperwork.
Inside the coffin was no second body.
No secret compartment.
Nothing.
I almost laughed.
“Maybe they were wrong.”
Cassian knelt beside the coffin.
He ran his hand along the inner wood.
“Here.”
There was a seam.
Hidden beneath the lining.
A small metal case emerged.
Inside were passports.
Three sets.
Different names.
Different countries.
And a photograph.
My father standing beside a woman I didn't recognize.
Cassian studied it.
“She worked for us.”
“Who is she?”
“Her name was Elena Rhodes.”
“She looks familiar.”
Cassian frowned.
Then he realized.
“Elena was one of the women my father trusted.”
“What happened to her?”
“She disappeared the year before your father died.”
Inside the case was a letter.
This time it wasn't addressed to my mother.
It was addressed to Cassian.
Cassian Vale,
If you are reading this, I failed.
The rest is worse.
Your father is being manipulated by the Aldridges.
Elias Voss believes the Vale organization can be taken from within.
Victor Hale is involved.
The man you should never trust is the one who calls himself your brother.
Cassian went still.
“Brother?”
I looked at him.
“You have a brother?”
“My father had another son.”
“What happened to him?”
“He died.”
“When?”
“Twenty-six years ago.”
The date matched the year my father died.
Cassian turned the paper over.
There was another line.
He did not die.
The next clue was a hotel.
We went to a tiny hotel in Boston.
There we found an old photograph and a man in his sixties who looked remarkably like Cassian.
“Who are you?”
The man smiled.
“Your uncle.”
Cassian raised his weapon.
The old man didn't move.
“My name is Vincent Vale.”
Cassian's face hardened.
“You died.”
“That was the idea.”
Vincent revealed the truth.
Cassian’s father had wanted to leave the criminal world.
Victor Hale had arranged his death.
Vincent had survived an attempt on his own life and disappeared.
He had spent decades collecting evidence.
“My father?”
“Your father tried to protect you.”
“Then why did he never tell me?”
“Because by the time he learned the truth, Victor had already infiltrated everything.”
I asked, “What about my father?”
Vincent looked at me.
“He helped your father escape once.”
“And then?”
“He was captured.”
“Poisoned?”
“Yes.”
The pain was old, but hearing it confirmed made it fresh.
Vincent handed me a small box.
“Your mother was supposed to receive this.”
Inside was a wedding photograph.
My father and mother.
Young.
Happy.
On the back, another message:
Keep Lydia away from the Aldridges.
Cassian stared at the photograph.
“They knew she would be targeted.”
Vincent nodded.
“Because Lydia inherited something.”
I looked up.
“What?”
“The ability to identify a ledger system.”
I blinked.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“No.”
He opened another file.
“Your father taught you numbers when you were a child.”
I laughed nervously.
“I was good at math.”
“You were exceptional.”
I remembered something.
My father used to give me sequences.
Numbers.
Symbols.
He called them games.
Maybe they weren't games.
Vincent explained.
The shipping records had been encoded.
Only someone trained by my father could recognize the pattern.
“You can read them.”
“I don’t remember.”
“You will.”
Back in New York, Cassian placed the original ledger in front of me.
I stared at it for hours.
Then something clicked.
“These aren't shipping dates.”
“What are they?”
“Coordinates.”
Cassian leaned over.
“Of what?”
“Deposits.”
“Money?”
“No.”
I traced the pattern.
“People.”
My stomach twisted.
Names.
Locations.
Photographs.
All six wives appeared.
And one seventh name.
Mine.
But the date beside my name was three weeks earlier.
The plan had started before the wedding.
Someone had selected me before Evelyn ever ran.
Cassian looked stunned.
“They knew she would disappear.”
“Yes.”
“They arranged everything.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
I looked at the final page.
There was one sentence:
THE SEVENTH BRIDE WILL OPEN THE VAULT.
Cassian read it twice.
“What vault?”
“I don't know.”
Then my phone rang.
Margaret.
I answered.
Her voice was calm.
Too calm.
“Lydia.”
“What do you want?”
“You need to come home.”
“I don't work for you anymore.”
“You never did.”
My blood chilled.
“What?”
“You were never hired as a maid.”
Cassian looked at me.
Margaret continued.
“Your mother agreed to bring you into this family twenty years ago.”
I couldn't speak.
“Your father knew the arrangement.”
“That’s a lie.”
“Ask your mother.”
The line went dead.
I stared at Cassian.
He understood immediately.
We rushed to the hospital.
My mother was missing.
The bed was empty.
The window was open.
May you like
On the table was a note.
LYDIA, COME ALONE.
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