Chapter 3 - The Men Attacking My Company Were Not Trying to Kill Me—They Were Trying to Stop Emma From Reaching the Place Where Luca Had Hidden the Family’s Most Dangerous SecretBroken Moon was six hours away.
A remote estate in northern New York.
My family had abandoned it before I was born.
At least that's what I'd been told.
Marcus brought me the original maps.
There were underground tunnels.
A private airstrip.
A hidden vault.
A chapel.
And one room marked simply:
WOLF ARCHIVE.
I stared.
“Why didn't I know about this?”
“Your father wanted you away from it.”
“Why?”
“He was afraid of what you'd discover.”
I looked at Claire.
She didn't deny it.
We traveled at night.
Three armored vehicles.
Emma sat beside me.
She slept against the window.
Claire sat across from us.
I watched her.
“You knew Luca before me.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“We met after he disappeared.”
“Where?”
“Boston.”
“He was hurt.”
“What happened?”
“He'd been shot.”
I stared.
“By whom?”
“Nathan's men.”
“Why didn't he come home?”
“He believed someone inside your organization was feeding Nathan information.”
“Marcus.”
She nodded.
“Not Marcus.”
“Then who?”
She looked at me.
“Someone closer.”
Before I could ask, the vehicle stopped.
Marcus opened the door.
“We have a problem.”
“What?”
“Roadblock.”
I looked ahead.
Three vehicles.
No license plates.
Armed men.
I moved Emma behind me.
Gunfire erupted.
My men returned fire.
The attackers were disciplined.
Too disciplined.
Military.
I shouted:
“Move!”
The driver accelerated.
We crashed through the roadblock.
One vehicle followed.
Then two.
The chase lasted twenty minutes.
Eventually Marcus led us onto a private road.
Broken Moon appeared through the trees.
The estate was enormous.
Abandoned.
Dark.
But the security lights suddenly activated.
Someone was there.
We entered.
The front doors opened.
A man stood inside.
Luca.
Older.
Scar across his cheek.
Gray eyes.
The same eyes.
I stopped breathing.
“Luca.”
He looked at me.
For thirteen years, I had imagined this moment.
Anger.
Grief.
Joy.
I didn't know which would win.
I crossed the room.
He didn't move.
I struck him.
Once.
He accepted it.
“You let me bury you.”
“I know.”
“You watched me mourn.”
“I know.”
“You let me believe you were dead.”
“I had no choice.”
I hit him again.
He still didn't fight back.
Then Emma ran between us.
“Daddy!”
Luca's face broke.
He dropped to his knees.
Emma threw her arms around him.
I stood frozen.
This was the man I had lost.
And somehow, my brother was alive.
He looked at me over Emma's shoulder.
“I wanted to come home.”
“Then why didn't you?”
“Because every time I got close, someone tried to kill you.”
I looked at Claire.
She nodded.
Luca stood.
“Your security system was compromised.”
“By whom?”
He whispered:
“Your mother.”
My blood went cold.
“My mother?”
“She knows.”
“Knows what?”
“That Nathan isn't the real threat.”
He walked toward a locked door.
“This is.”
The Wolf Archive.
He opened it with his tattoo.
Then looked at me.
“Your wolf.”
I pressed my arm against the scanner.
The door opened.
Inside were files.
Photographs.
Bank records.
And one document.
I read it.
Then felt sick.
The family trust had a final beneficiary.
Not me.
Not Luca.
Emma.
And one condition.
She could access it only when she turned eighteen.
Until then, control belonged to her legal guardian.
Her mother.
Claire.
I turned.
“Why did they want Claire dead?”
Luca answered:
“Because she is the only person who can activate the trust before Emma turns eighteen.”
I stared.
“Why?”
“The founder created one exception.”
“Which is?”
“If the mother presents both wolves together.”
I looked at Claire.
“You knew.”
She nodded.
“My wife—”
“No.”
“Why would she do this?”
“Because she wanted to protect Emma.”
The truth was becoming larger.
The wolf tattoos were not just symbolic.
They represented joint authorization.
My brother had protected Claire.
Claire had protected Emma.
They had trusted me only when the time was right.
Then footsteps echoed outside.
Luca's expression changed.
“They're here.”
“How many?”
“Enough.”
Marcus rushed inside.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“The west gate is gone.”
I looked at him.
“Who opened it?”
He hesitated.
May you like
“Your mother.”
My blood froze.
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