Chapter 7 - The Fiancée Who Had Been Lying for Ten Years
Vivian waited inside Mercer House wearing white.
Nathan almost admired the symbolism.
She stood in the ballroom beneath the chandelier from their engagement party, holding a glass of wine.
No guards.
No Patrick.
At least none visible.
Nathan entered alone.
Cal watched through hidden feeds.
Federal agents were positioned three blocks away.
Vivian smiled.
“You look well for a man having a breakdown.”
“You look relaxed for a woman under investigation.”
Her smile tightened.
“So Clara convinced you.”
“Of what?”
“That I'm evil.”
“No.”
Nathan approached.
“The sedative helped.”
Vivian's face remained controlled.
“You can't prove I put anything in your glass.”
“Probably can.”
“You always loved certainty.”
“I loved believing you were predictable.”
“That was your mistake.”
“Yes.”
The admission surprised her.
Vivian placed her glass down.
“Do you love her?”
Nathan said nothing.
Her expression changed.
“That's answer enough.”
“This isn't about Clara.”
“It became about Clara the moment you took her to Owen's cabin.”
Nathan stopped.
She knew.
“Patrick has people everywhere.”
“Apparently.”
Vivian laughed.
“You think you're dismantling something terrible.”
“I know I am.”
“No.”
She stepped closer.
“You are destroying what kept your family alive.”
“My brother is dead.”
“So is my father.”
“Your father helped kill Owen.”
Vivian's face changed.
“No.”
Nathan stared.
“You really didn't know.”
“Malcolm never wanted Owen dead.”
“Patrick's recording says otherwise.”
“My father wanted Owen frightened.”
“That's comforting.”
“He told Patrick to stop.”
“When?”
“The night before the fire.”
Nathan studied her.
“You have proof?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Vivian hesitated.
Nathan understood.
“The metal box.”
Her eyes flashed.
“You stole it from Owen's room.”
“Yes.”
“What's inside?”
“Letters.”
“From Malcolm?”
“Yes.”
Nathan's pulse changed.
Vivian walked toward the fireplace.
“My father knew Patrick was losing control.”
She removed a folded paper from her pocket.
“Malcolm wrote this two days before Owen died.”
Nathan accepted it.
Patrick,
You are not to touch the Mercer boy.
Scare him if necessary. Buy him if possible. But if anything happens to Owen, our arrangement ends.
M.
Nathan read it twice.
“Why steal this?”
“Because Patrick told me it was evidence my father ordered the fire.”
“But it proves the opposite.”
“Yes.”
“Then why protect Patrick?”
Vivian laughed bitterly.
“You still don't understand.”
She looked suddenly younger.
Tired.
“My father left debts.”
“Patrick's?”
“Both.”
“When Malcolm died, Patrick showed me everything.”
Her voice trembled.
“Illegal shipments. Pension money. Bribes. My signature.”
“You were eighteen.”
“I signed documents.”
“Did you know what they were?”
“No.”
“Then you're not responsible for what Malcolm used them for.”
“Tell prosecutors that.”
“I will.”
Vivian stared.
“You would?”
“If it's true.”
She looked away.
Nathan realized Patrick had controlled her exactly the way he controlled everyone.
Through secrets.
Fear.
Partial truths.
That did not absolve her.
She had drugged Nathan.
Threatened Clara.
Planted jewelry.
Helped seize his company.
But perhaps she had not begun as Patrick's partner.
She had become one.
“What did Patrick promise you?”
“Freedom.”
Nathan almost laughed.
“Men like Patrick don't sell freedom.”
“I know that now.”
“What was supposed to happen after we married?”
Vivian's eyes filled.
“We would move the stolen money into legitimate Mercer assets.”
“You would help him.”
“He said once the accounts were clean, he'd destroy everything linking me to my father.”
“And you believed him.”
“I wanted to.”
“Why the whiskey?”
“To activate the emergency control agreement.”
“You could have simply asked me for financial help.”
Vivian stared.
“Would you have married a woman whose father stole from your employees and helped cover up your brother's death?”
Nathan didn't answer.
“Exactly.”
She wiped one tear angrily.
“I spent three years becoming the woman you could marry.”
“And never once tried becoming someone I could know.”
That hurt her.
Good.
Then Nathan regretted wanting it to.
Vivian reached into a drawer.
Nathan's hand moved toward his weapon.
“Relax.”
She removed the metal box.
Owen's.
Placed it on the table.
“Everything Patrick thinks I destroyed.”
Nathan opened it.
Letters.
Accounting ledgers.
Photographs.
One microcassette.
“Why give me this?”
“Because Patrick is going to kill Clara.”
Nathan became completely still.
“What?”
“He believes she has Daniel's original evidence.”
“She doesn't.”
“He doesn't know that.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
Nathan reached for his phone.
Vivian grabbed his wrist.
“Wait.”
“Remove your hand.”
She did.
“He has Evan watching the cabin.”
Nathan's blood went cold.
“How does he know where it is?”
“Cal.”
Nathan stared.
“No.”
“Not willingly.”
She showed him a photograph.
Cal's younger sister outside her home.
Then her teenage son.
Patrick had threatened Cal's family.
“Cal gave him the region,” Vivian said. “Not the exact address.”
Nathan called.
Cal answered instantly.
“Nate.”
“Your sister.”
Silence.
Nathan knew.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because Patrick said—”
“I don't care what Patrick said.”
“He had my nephew.”
Nathan stopped.
Had.
“Where?”
“Safe now. Feds moved them an hour ago.”
Nathan exhaled.
“Does Patrick know?”
“No.”
“Did you give him the cabin?”
“Only county.”
“Evan could search.”
“Yes.”
Nathan ended the call and called Clara.
No answer.
Again.
No answer.
Vivian whispered, “Go.”
Nathan looked at her.
“You're coming.”
“What?”
“Patrick will know you turned.”
“He'll kill me.”
“Then stay beside the man he's spent ten years trying not to face.”
For the first time, Vivian smiled without calculation.
“That's almost romantic.”
“It wasn't meant to be.”
They left.
Nathan called Ellie’s security officer.
No answer.
His fear became physical.
By the time they reached the private airfield, Cal had located a signal from the cabin's emergency beacon.
Triggered.
Nathan's helicopter lifted within minutes.
During the flight, Vivian handed him the cassette.
“Listen.”
Malcolm's voice.
Patrick's.
The argument occurred hours before Owen died.
Malcolm: Call it off.
Patrick: Too late.
Malcolm: What did you do?
Patrick: Owen arranged a meeting with Nathan tomorrow.
Silence.
Malcolm: Patrick.
Patrick: If Nathan sees those records, we're finished.
Malcolm: So we run.
Patrick: I don't run from children.
Malcolm: He's twenty-seven.
Patrick: To me, they're all children.
Nathan closed his eyes.
Patrick had decided alone.
But Malcolm covered it afterward.
Vivian's father was guilty.
Just not of ordering the fire.
Nathan looked at her.
“Why didn't you give this to me years ago?”
“Because Patrick told me if I did, he'd prove Malcolm ordered Daniel's death.”
“Did he?”
“I don't know.”
Nathan realized how thoroughly Patrick weaponized uncertainty.
He rarely needed actual leverage.
Only enough doubt.
The helicopter landed near the lake after dark.
Cabin lights off.
Front door open.
Nathan's heart stopped.
“Clara!”
Nothing.
He entered.
Broken chair.
Blood on the floor.
Not much.
Atlas growling from upstairs.
Nathan ran.
The mastiff stood in Ellie's room.
Ellie was behind him.
Alive.
“Mr. Nathan!”
He grabbed her.
“Where's your mother?”
“Bad men took her.”
Every controlled part of Nathan vanished.
“When?”
“Before dark.”
“Who?”
“Mr. Patrick.”
Vivian entered behind him.
Ellie froze.
“You.”
Vivian stopped.
Ellie pointed her wand.
“You're bad.”
Vivian closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
The answer surprised everyone.
Ellie hugged Nathan.
“Mama told me to hide with Atlas.”
“Did Patrick say where they were going?”
She shook her head.
Then remembered.
“He said Mama was going where her husband should've died.”
Nathan looked at Vivian.
Then Cal, arriving behind them.
Daniel worked at Warehouse Twelve.
His fatal meeting happened near Biscayne.
But Owen's death happened at Warehouse Nine.
Where her husband should've died.
Nathan suddenly understood.
Daniel was supposed to be at Warehouse Nine the night of the fire.
Owen had sent him away with evidence.
Patrick had expected both men to die.
“Warehouse Nine.”
Cal's face hardened.
Nathan handed Ellie to him.
“Keep her safe.”
“No.”
Ellie grabbed Nathan's jacket.
“You promised.”
“I know.”
“You come back.”
Nathan crouched.
“I will.”
She looked terrified.
Then lifted her wand.
“Wish three.”
Nathan froze.
“Now?”
“Yes.”
“What is it?”
Ellie whispered.
“Don't become bad when you save Mama.”
The room went silent.
Nathan stared at the six-year-old.
She didn't ask him to kill Patrick.
Didn't ask him to hurt anyone.
She asked him to remain the man her mother could come home to.
Nathan swallowed.
“I promise.”
Ellie hugged him.
Vivian looked away, crying.
Nathan stood.
Cal handed him a weapon.
Nathan stared at it.
Then Owen's voice returned.
Think first.
May you like
He took the gun.
But for the first time in his adult life, Nathan Mercer entered a war intending not to use it.
