Chapter 3 - The Father Who Disappeared
We found my father’s car beneath an overpass near the river.
The windshield was cracked.
One door hung open.
There was blood on the pavement.
I tried to rush forward, but Ethan caught my wrist.
“Stay behind me.”
“Ethan—”
“Jane.”
One word.
Firm.
I stopped.
Brian searched the area while armed men spread into the darkness.
My father’s phone was found fifteen feet from the car.
Its screen had been smashed.
A message remained visible.
COME ALONE.
I stared at it.
“He was taken.”
Ethan nodded.
“Most likely.”
“By the Russos?”
“Possibly.”
“You said they weren’t the only ones.”
“They aren’t.”
“What aren’t you telling me?”
He looked at me.
“Everything.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“No. It’s the truth.”
He walked toward the car.
I followed.
Inside the trunk was an old leather briefcase.
My father’s initials were stamped into the corner.
Ethan opened it.
Inside were shipping records, photographs, and a sealed envelope.
My name was written on it.
My hands shook.
I opened it.
Jane,
If you are reading this, then I have failed to keep the promise I made to your mother.
I had tried not to cry.
I stopped reading.
“My mother?”
Ethan took a step closer.
“Keep going.”
The letter explained that my mother’s family had once controlled a legitimate shipping company that had been forced into criminal operations during a financial collapse.
When she died, part of the company’s remaining assets were placed in a private trust under my name.
But there was another secret.
The trust wasn’t merely worth money.
It contained controlling rights to several strategic shipping facilities on the South Side.
The same facilities Ethan needed.
The same territory the Russos had been trying to take.
I looked at Ethan.
“So my father knew.”
“Yes.”
“And he used our marriage to protect the trust.”
“No.”
I stared at him.
“No?”
“Your father thought the marriage would protect you.”
I laughed bitterly.
“He sold me to a stranger.”
“He came to me because he believed I was the only man ruthless enough to stop the Russos.”
“Did you believe that?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I had already killed three of their lieutenants.”
Silence.
I stared at him.
He did not look proud.
He looked exhausted.
“I never asked you to become this,” he said.
“You never gave me a choice.”
“No.”
The honesty hurt more than an excuse would have.
A vehicle appeared on the distant road.
Everyone raised their weapons.
The car stopped.
A man stepped out.
It was Derek.
Ethan’s cousin.
He looked calm.
Too calm.
He approached slowly.
“Ethan.”
“Why are you here?”
“I came to help.”
Brian immediately raised his gun.
“Don’t.”
Derek frowned.
“What?”
“You knew about the car.”
“I heard about it.”
“From who?”
Derek hesitated.
Ethan’s expression hardened.
“Answer him.”
Derek looked at me.
“From the Russos.”
I felt sick.
“How would the Russos tell you?”
“I have contacts everywhere.”
Ethan stepped closer.
“You’re lying.”
Derek smiled.
“You always thought you were smarter than everyone.”
“And you always thought I was softer than everyone.”
The two men stared at each other.
Then Derek said something that changed everything.
“Ask your wife what her father did to my mother.”
I looked at Ethan.
“What?”
Derek laughed.
“You really never told her?”
Ethan moved.
Fast.
His fist struck Derek across the face.
Guards immediately surrounded them.
Derek wiped blood from his mouth.
“She deserves the truth.”
Ethan’s voice was deadly.
“Leave.”
Derek pointed at me.
“Your husband knows exactly why your mother disappeared.”
Then he walked away.
I turned toward Ethan.
“Is that true?”
He did not answer.
“Ethan.”
Nothing.
I felt something inside me collapse.
“You knew.”
He closed his eyes.
“I suspected.”
“Then why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I didn’t know how much of it was true.”
“You could have told me there was a possibility.”
“I wanted to protect you.”
“You keep saying that.”
He looked at me.
“And you keep acting like protection gives you the right to lie.”
He had no response.
We returned to the mansion before dawn.
I refused to sleep.
Instead, I searched my father’s study.
Ethan tried to stop me.
I refused.
By sunrise, I had discovered a hidden compartment behind a painting.
Inside was a second box.
There were letters.
Dozens.
Most were written by my mother.
The last one was addressed to my father.
I opened it.
It contained only four sentences.
You promised me our daughter would never know about us.
You promised she would never be used.
Yet you are putting her into Ethan Carter’s hands.
Please do not make my daughter pay for the sins of our families.
I sank into a chair.
My mother had known.
She had feared this.
And my father had done it anyway.
At noon, there was a knock at the front gate.
A woman stood outside.
She was older, elegant, and furious.
Ethan’s aunt.
Margaret Carter.
She entered the house carrying a folder.
“I came to explain why your mother died.”
Ethan stepped forward.
“No.”
Margaret ignored him.
“Your mother was murdered.”
Everything stopped.
I stared at her.
“Who killed her?”
Margaret looked at Ethan.
“His grandfather ordered it.”
Ethan’s face became stone.
“And your father helped.”
My hands went cold.
Margaret nodded.
“They believed your mother knew too much.”
“What did she know?”
“She knew that the Carter empire was built on stolen routes.”
I looked at Ethan.
His expression was unreadable.
Margaret continued.
“She also knew that your father was planning to leave the business.”
“Why?”
“Because he loved your mother.”
I could barely breathe.
“And they killed her?”
Margaret nodded.
“But that wasn’t the worst part.”
She handed me another document.
It was dated twenty-three years earlier.
“Your mother was pregnant with twins.”
I stared at the page.
“Twins?”
“Yes.”
My voice came out as a whisper.
“Where is the other child?”
Margaret looked at me.
“Dead.”
Then Ethan spoke.
“That’s impossible.”
Margaret shook her head.
“No.”
May you like
She stared directly at me.
“Your sister is alive.”
