Chapter 3 - My Dead Mother Walked Into the Mansion
That night I dreamed about the accident.
For seventeen years, I had remembered almost nothing.
Now the memories came back in fragments.
Rain against glass.
A red scarf.
My mother's perfume.
My father's hands shaking.
A stranger's voice.
Then darkness.
I woke at 3:30 a.m.
Someone was standing beside my bed.
I screamed.
The light turned on.
Ethan stood there.
“It's me.”
“What are you doing?”
“Checking on you.”
“You scared me.”
“I know.”
I pulled the blanket higher.
“You don't sleep?”
“Not much.”
“Why?”
“Habit.”
“From being a criminal?”
His mouth tightened.
“From surviving one.”
I looked away.
“I'm not ready to forgive you.”
“I know.”
“Stop saying that.”
“Okay.”
Silence.
Then I asked:
“Were you really going to use me?”
“Yes.”
“Were you really going to make me have your child for political leverage?”
His face became hard.
“That was never the plan.”
“That's what you said.”
“I said what the room needed to hear.”
“Why?”
“To convince the people listening that I had no reason to protect you.”
I stared.
“You knew someone was listening?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“I didn't know.”
He sat on the edge of the chair across from me.
“I suspected there was a leak.”
“From the beginning?”
“Yes.”
“Then why marry me?”
“Because refusing would have started a war.”
I understood.
“You sacrificed me to buy time.”
“Yes.”
I swallowed.
“Did you ever regret it?”
He looked at me.
“Every day.”
The door opened.
Brian entered.
“Boss.”
Ethan stood immediately.
“What?”
“We have a problem.”
“What kind?”
“Someone entered through the east gate.”
“Who?”
Brian looked at me.
“A woman.”
My heartbeat stopped.
“Who?”
He didn't answer.
We went downstairs.
A woman stood in the foyer surrounded by guards.
She wore a dark coat.
Her hair was hidden beneath a scarf.
She slowly removed it.
I stopped breathing.
My mother looked at me.
She was older.
Thinner.
There was a scar near her eyebrow.
But it was her.
“Mom?”
She smiled through tears.
“Hello, Jane.”
I couldn't move.
Then I ran.
She caught me.
Her arms wrapped around me.
For a moment I was six again.
Small.
Safe.
Then anger rushed in.
I pushed her away.
“You're alive.”
“Yes.”
“You left me.”
“I had no choice.”
“You let me believe you were dead.”
“I did.”
“My whole life—”
“I know.”
“You don't get to say that.”
She lowered her head.
Ethan stood behind me.
My mother looked at him.
“So you're the man she married.”
“Yes.”
“You've been protecting her.”
Ethan didn't answer.
My mother looked back at me.
“You need to leave him.”
I stared.
“Why?”
“Because if they know you trust him, they'll kill you both.”
“Who?”
She looked toward the guards.
“The people your father betrayed.”
“My father?”
“He wasn't a criminal.”
I laughed bitterly.
“My father controlled shipping routes.”
“Yes.”
“That's what everyone says.”
“Because they don't know the truth.”
She took an old photograph from her pocket.
My father.
Ethan's father.
My mother.
Another man.
I stared at the last face.
It was the same face from the death list.
Henry Vale.
I turned toward the study.
Ethan had gone pale.
“My lawyer?”
My mother nodded.
“He was never your father's lawyer.”
“Then who was he?”
“The architect.”
Ethan reached for his gun.
“Where is he?”
“Gone.”
“Where?”
My mother shook her head.
“That's not the worst part.”
“What is?”
She looked at me.
“Your father is alive.”
My knees nearly gave out.
“Where?”
“He has been hiding.”
“Why?”
“Because Henry wants the Blackwater Corridor.”
I stared.
“Why is it so important?”
“Because whoever controls it can move anything from Canada to the Gulf without passing through the usual network.”
Drugs.
Weapons.
Money.
People.
I understood.
“You want me to trust Ethan?”
My mother looked at him.
“I don't.”
Ethan said nothing.
“But I know he is not the one hunting you.”
“Then who?”
“Derek.”
I froze.
“My cousin?”
“He works for Henry.”
Ethan stared.
“How long?”
“Since before your wedding.”
His jaw tightened.
“I should have seen it.”
My mother shook her head.
“He was careful.”
Then a bullet shattered the foyer mirror.
Guards shouted.
Ethan grabbed me and dragged me behind a marble column.
Another shot.
My mother dropped.
“Mom!”
I rushed toward her.
Ethan caught me.
“She’s alive.”
Blood covered her shoulder.
Brian crouched beside her.
“Through and through.”
Ethan looked toward the windows.
“Where did the shot come from?”
“Roofline.”
“Derek?”
“Unknown.”
My mother grabbed my wrist.
“Jane.”
I leaned closer.
“Where is Dad?”
She whispered an address.
Then she said:
“He has the ledger.”
“What ledger?”
“The one proving Henry owns half the city.”
Her hand tightened around mine.
“And he has the evidence that can bring Ethan down too.”
Ethan heard it.
He looked at me.
“What evidence?”
My mother closed her eyes.
“Your father knows what your husband did before he met you.”
Ethan went still.
I stared at him.
“What did you do?”
He didn't answer.
May you like
My mother whispered:
“Ask him about the warehouse fire.”
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