Chapter 2 - The Man Who Was Supposed to Be DeadDamian did not say another word until Lily was safely asleep in her bedroom.
I stayed beside her long after she had drifted off, watching her tiny chest rise and fall beneath the blankets.
There was a stuffed rabbit tucked beneath her chin.
The ears were worn thin from years of being loved.
I had bought it when she was two.
She used to insist that the rabbit was a boy.
His name was Captain.
That night, she whispered his name once in her sleep and curled deeper into the blankets.
I pressed my lips against her forehead.
Then I stepped into the hallway.
Damian was waiting.
He stood beside the window with his hands in his coat pockets.
“I need the truth,” he said.
“So do I.”
“Then we're even.”
“No.”
His eyes met mine.
“We are nowhere near even.”
I almost smiled.
That was Damian.
Even when the world was collapsing, he spoke like every sentence belonged on a contract.
I followed him downstairs.
He led me into his private office and closed the door.
The room had no cameras.
No assistants.
No decorative clutter.
Just bookshelves, a black desk, two chairs, and a locked safe behind an enormous painting.
He took out a key.
“You're going to tell me about the investigation.”
“I will.”
“Everything.”
“Everything I know.”
He unlocked the safe.
Inside were photographs, bank records, handwritten notes, and a newspaper clipping.
He handed me the clipping.
The headline was six years old.
LOCAL BUSINESS TYCOON PRESUMED DEAD AFTER PRIVATE PLANE CRASH
I stared at the photograph.
Edward Voss.
Damian's father.
He looked older than Damian.
Hard eyes.
Silver hair.
A smile that contained no warmth whatsoever.
I studied the article.
“The plane crashed over Lake Michigan.”
“No body found.”
“Exactly.”
I looked up.
“Why did everyone accept his death?”
“Because my mother identified his watch.”
“That isn't proof.”
“No.”
“Then what happened?”
Damian sat.
“My father disappeared after investigators began looking into his offshore accounts. Two months later, his plane vanished. The wreckage was recovered. One passenger was listed. No body.”
“Your father.”
“Yes.”
“And you believed he was dead?”
“For three years.”
“What changed?”
Damian's expression darkened.
“Someone sent me a photograph.”
He slid it across the desk.
I picked it up.
A blurry image.
A man standing outside a warehouse.
Older.
Thinner.
But unmistakably Edward Voss.
My stomach tightened.
“When was this taken?”
“Eight months ago.”
“You didn't tell law enforcement.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because three days after I received it, the person who took the photograph disappeared.”
I looked at him.
“And you thought the police were involved.”
“I know the police are involved.”
That statement landed hard.
“You're accusing officers?”
“Not all of them.”
“Which ones?”
“I don't know.”
He stared at the photograph.
“But someone has been protecting my father.”
I thought of my own agency.
The covert operation hadn't started because of Damian.
It had started because three shell companies had vanished from an investigation into a money-laundering network.
Those companies led to Chicago.
Then to Voss Industries.
Then to an internal network involving people far above my rank.
The official order had been simple:
Enter the Voss mansion.
Get close.
Find evidence.
Identify the person diverting the money.
Remain undercover until instructed to leave.
But six weeks into the operation, I had uncovered something disturbing.
Every stolen dollar eventually moved into an account held by a company named Black Orchard Holdings.
And Black Orchard had one silent controlling shareholder.
Edward Voss.
I looked at Damian.
“I found Black Orchard.”
His expression changed.
“How?”
“Your accounting department.”
“I knew that.”
“No. You knew part of it.”
I reached inside my bag and pulled out a thin folder.
“I copied these before I came home.”
He took it.
He opened the first page.
Then the second.
Then the third.
His face became completely blank.
“What is this?”
“Transfer records.”
“These aren't mine.”
“I know.”
“Then whose are they?”
“Your father's.”
He read silently.
I watched him calculate.
Then he whispered, “He has been using my companies.”
“For years.”
“That means the stolen money isn't stolen.”
“What?”
“He's moving it.”
“Where?”
“Into something bigger.”
I leaned forward.
“Exactly.”
Damian looked at me.
“What's the endgame?”
“I don't know yet.”
He closed the folder.
“Neither do I.”
A soft knock interrupted us.
Maria stood outside.
“Mr. Voss?”
Damian opened the door.
She looked at me first.
“There's a car outside.”
“What kind?”
“Black SUV.”
“How long?”
“Ten minutes.”
I stood.
Damian moved toward the window.
The SUV was parked across the street.
No headlights.
No movement.
I knew immediately what it meant.
“They know you're back.”
Damian nodded.
“You're sure?”
“I've spent eight weeks pretending to be invisible.”
I picked up my bag.
“They don't send a black SUV to buy groceries.”
Damian looked at me.
“Where is your weapon?”
I stared at him.
“Hidden.”
“Where?”
“You don't need to know.”
He almost smiled.
“There she is.”
“Who?”
“The woman I knew was never a maid.”
Before I could answer, the mansion lights went out.
Lily screamed upstairs.
I moved instantly.
Damian was already running.
We reached her room together.
The window was open.
Curtains blowing.
Lily was standing on her bed.
“Mommy!”
I grabbed her.
“I'm here.”
Damian checked the window.
Footprints marked the snow outside.
Then a small object rolled across Lily's floor.
A silver bracelet.
Lily's bracelet.
The one she had been wearing earlier that day.
The one I had watched Vanessa remove from her wrist.
I stared at it.
“She took this.”
Damian picked it up.
There was a tiny black device hidden inside.
A tracker.
He looked at me.
“She was tracking Lily.”
“No.”
My mind raced.
“Not Lily.”
“What?”
“Me.”
Damian's eyes narrowed.
“Why?”
“Because she knew I was coming home.”
A second object appeared on the windowsill.
A folded note.
Damian opened it.
Only five words were written inside.
You should have stayed dead, Evelyn.
My blood turned cold.
Damian read it.
He looked at me.
“Who knows your real name?”
I swallowed.
“Three people.”
“Who?”
“My director.”
“My partner.”
“And whoever wrote that note.”
A sound came from outside.
A gunshot cracked through the night.
Damian pushed us to the floor.
Glass exploded.
I covered Lily with my body.
Then I heard footsteps running across the snow.
Damian looked at me.
“Stay here.”
I shook my head.
“I'm coming.”
“No.”
“You don't know who you're chasing.”
“I know exactly who I'm chasing.”
His eyes were hard.
“The man who just shot at my daughter.”
He left.
I held Lily close.
And for the first time since going undercover, I realized something terrifying.
My assignment had never been about exposing Damian Voss.
Someone had planted me inside his home because they wanted access to something only his family could reach.
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And now that I had discovered the truth, they were no longer trying to hide.
They were trying to kill us.
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