Chapter 3 - Camille Woke in a Locked Room and Learned Why Her Grandmother Had Been Afraid of the Vale NameCamille woke in a room that smelled like cedar and dust.
Her wrists were tied.
Her head hurt.
Her nightgown was stained.
But she was alive.
A woman sat across from her.
Old.
White hair.
Gray sweater.
Calm eyes.
Camille stared.
“Who are you?”
The woman said:
“Your grandmother.”
Camille's blood froze.
Her grandmother had been dead for fifteen years.
The woman smiled sadly.
“Not the woman they told you died.”
Camille shook her head.
“No.”
“My name is Eleanor Dawson.”
Camille stared.
Her necklace.
The one Leon had found.
The locket.
Her grandmother's.
The woman touched the broken chain.
“You've been carrying that for twenty years.”
“You know this?”
“Yes.”
“What is happening?”
Eleanor sighed.
“Leon Mason isn't who you think he is.”
Camille stiffened.
“He is exactly who I think he is.”
“He is a dangerous man.”
“I know.”
“You love him.”
“Yes.”
“And that makes you dangerous too.”
Camille tried to stand.
The ropes tightened.
“Where is he?”
“He's looking for you.”
“You called him?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Eleanor looked toward the door.
“Victor.”
Camille's stomach dropped.
“The man Leon calls his father?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Victor has been waiting for twenty years.”
“For what?”
“To finish what your grandfather started.”
Camille's voice became quiet.
“My grandfather?”
Eleanor nodded.
“Your grandmother's husband worked for Leon's father.”
“Doing what?”
“Keeping accounts.”
Camille stared.
“Money?”
“Blood money.”
Everything came together slowly.
The old stories.
The unexplained wealth.
Her mother's fear whenever the Mason name came up.
The reason her grandmother had always told her:
Never marry a man whose family makes people lower their voices.
Camille had laughed at that advice.
Now it terrified her.
“What did my grandfather discover?”
“He discovered that Leon's father wasn't the real leader.”
“Who was?”
“Victor.”
Camille froze.
“Then why did Leon think Victor worked for his father?”
“Because Victor created the story.”
“Why?”
“To keep Leon obedient.”
Camille looked at her grandmother.
“You're saying Victor raised him so he could control him?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Eleanor's eyes filled.
“Because Victor believed Leon owed him his life.”
Camille whispered:
“And what does he want now?”
“The family trust.”
She frowned.
“What trust?”
“The Mason Trust.”
Camille had heard the name.
Everyone in Chicago had.
A fortune hidden through legitimate businesses.
But there was something else.
Eleanor reached beneath the table.
She pulled out a box.
Inside was a letter.
Camille recognized the handwriting.
Her grandfather's.
Eleanor,
If Victor succeeds, the Mason family will destroy itself.
The only person who can stop him is the one person he believes he controls.
Leon.
Camille read the letter twice.
Her heart hurt.
Leon wasn't the mastermind.
He wasn't the monster.
He was another prisoner.
The door opened.
Victor entered.
Camille stared at him.
He looked older.
Tired.
But calm.
“Where is Leon?”
Victor smiled.
“On his way.”
“Why take me?”
“Because he would come for you.”
“You're using me.”
“Yes.”
“At least you're honest.”
Victor sat down.
“Honesty is more useful when people are desperate.”
Camille glared.
“You love him.”
Something flickered in Victor's eyes.
“Yes.”
“Then why are you doing this?”
“Because love isn't enough.”
“It should be.”
Victor smiled bitterly.
“You're young.”
“No.”
Camille's voice hardened.
“I'm not.”
She thought of Leon.
The man who never slept without checking the locks.
The man who never let anyone walk behind him.
The man who had nightmares about the night Tobias died.
The man who had once confessed:
“I don't know how to be someone's safe place.”
She understood now.
He had never been taught.
Victor leaned forward.
“You think Leon can walk away from this world.”
“He can.”
“No.”
“You're wrong.”
“Why?”
“Because this world is all he knows.”
Camille smiled sadly.
“Then I'll teach him another one.”
Victor stood.
“That's why I had to take you.”
He walked toward the door.
“Because you have something Leon has never had.”
“What?”
“Choice.”
The door closed.
Camille looked at Eleanor.
“Why did you help him?”
“I didn't.”
“Then why am I here?”
Eleanor whispered:
“Because the person who brought you here is not Victor.”
Camille's eyes narrowed.
“What?”
“Victor is only part of this.”
A hidden panel opened behind the wall.
A man stepped through.
Camille gasped.
She knew him.
Leon had called him Uncle Samuel.
The man everyone believed was dead.
Samuel looked at her.
“I’m sorry.”
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“For what?”
“For what you will learn next.”
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