Chapter 4: The Secret Beneath My Father's Grave
I had spent twelve years believing my family’s greatest tragedy was losing my brother.
I was wrong.
The tragedy was that someone had convinced me Adrian was the only person worth mourning.
While I grieved him, someone else had been rewriting the entire story.
My mother.
My father.
Lorenzo.
Every name I trusted now carried a shadow.
The city lights blurred through the falling snow as I stood there holding the phone that had delivered the message.
Ask yourself why your mother died.
Those words kept repeating in my head.
Not because I believed them.
Because some part of me feared I did.
"Where did the call come from?"" Adrian asked.
I looked at the screen.
"Blocked.""
He nodded.
"Of course.""
I studied him.
"You knew this would happen.""
His eyes shifted away.
"I knew someone would eventually find out.""
"Someone?""
I stepped closer.
"Adrian, stop speaking like you're still protecting me.""
His expression tightened.
"I am protecting you.""
"No.""
My voice became colder.
"You're protecting the version of me that doesn't know the truth.""
The words hit him.
For the first time that night, Adrian looked less like a survivor and more like my older brother again.
The man who hated seeing me hurt.
"You don't understand what you're walking into.""
I laughed quietly.
"You're right.""
I looked around at the empty street.
"Because apparently I've been walking through a lie my entire life.""
Nobody answered.
Beatrice stood silently beside us, holding her coat tightly around her body.
She looked exhausted.
But she also looked relieved.
Like a secret she had carried alone for years had finally become too heavy to hold.
I noticed.
"You wanted me to find him.""
Her eyes lifted.
"What?""
"You've been leaving clues.""
Her expression changed.
"Mr. Vale—"
"You knew I would notice.""
She shook her head.
"No.""
"Then why take the food from my house?""
Silence.
"Why leave the security footage untouched?""
Her lips parted.
I continued.
"You knew someone would see you.""
Beatrice looked down.
"I hoped someone would.""
That answer surprised me.
"You hoped?""
She swallowed.
"Adrian was dying.""
Adrian looked away.
"And I couldn't keep watching him disappear.""
The snow landed softly on her hair.
"I knew the Vale family had power. I knew someone inside that mansion could help him.""
Her eyes met mine.
"But I didn't know if that person was you.""
The honesty was unsettling.
Because I wanted to be angry.
I wanted to accuse her.
But I couldn't.
Not when she looked like someone who had spent years carrying a burden no one else could see.
"What made you think I would help?""
She looked at Adrian.
"Because he believed you would.""
I turned.
Adrian said nothing.
That bothered me more than if he had argued.
"You still believed in me?""
His answer was quiet.
"I never stopped.""
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
Because I had spent twelve years believing he abandoned me.
And he had spent twelve years believing I would save him.
Both of us had been wrong.
Both of us had been victims.
And someone had benefited from that.
We moved to a safe location before sunrise.
Not my mansion.
Not yet.
If Lorenzo truly was involved, my home was no longer a fortress.
It was a cage.
I brought Adrian and Beatrice to an old private apartment I owned near the lake. Nobody outside my closest circle knew about it.
Nobody except one person.
Lorenzo.
The thought made my stomach turn.
Inside, Adrian sat at the kitchen table while Beatrice cleaned his wound.
I watched from across the room.
It was strange.
The man who once commanded fear throughout Chicago was now sitting quietly under a dim kitchen light while a woman stitched his shoulder.
And somehow, that image felt more real than the empire I had built.
"You need a doctor," I said.
Adrian shook his head.
"No.""
"You were shot.""
"I've survived worse.""
"That isn't an answer.""
He looked at me.
"It is when doctors ask questions.""
I understood.
A hospital created records.
Records created trails.
Trails created enemies.
That was the world we lived in.
Beatrice tied the bandage.
"He's right.""
I looked at her.
"You always take his side?""
A faint smile appeared.
"Usually.""
"Usually?""
"Sometimes he's wrong.""
Adrian looked offended.
"That's rare.""
Beatrice raised an eyebrow.
"It happens every day.""
For a second, I almost smiled.
Almost.
It was the first normal conversation I had heard all night.
Then my phone buzzed.
A message.
From Lorenzo.
My entire body went still.
Adrian noticed.
"Who?""
I showed him.
The message was simple.
*Boss, I heard there was trouble tonight. Are you safe?*
I stared at the screen.
The words looked harmless.
Concerned.
Loyal.
Exactly the kind of message I would have expected from him.
A year ago, I would have answered immediately.
Tonight, I didn't.
"What are you going to do?"" Adrian asked.
I placed the phone down.
"Test him.""
At 8:00 a.m., I returned to the Vale mansion.
Alone.
The same place where I had watched Beatrice take food.
The same place where I had believed I knew everyone inside.
The security cameras.
The guards.
The locked doors.
Everything looked the same.
But I didn't.
Lorenzo was waiting in my office.
He stood when I entered.
"Boss.""
His eyes scanned me.
Looking for injuries.
Looking for weakness.
"Rough night?"" he asked.
I removed my coat.
"Something like that.""
He walked closer.
"Did you find out where the maid was going?""
There it was.
Not Are you okay?
Not What happened?
The maid.
That was his first concern.
I kept my expression calm.
"Yes.""
"And?""
I sat behind my desk.
"She was helping someone.""
Lorenzo's face remained neutral.
"Who?""
I studied him.
A person who had nothing to hide would ask differently.
They would ask if I was safe.
They would ask why I followed her.
They would be confused.
Lorenzo wasn't confused.
He was waiting.
"Why does that matter?""
A tiny pause.
Barely visible.
But I saw it.
"Because if she was helping someone connected to us, it could be dangerous.""
Connected to us.
Interesting choice of words.
I leaned back.
"You seem very worried about Beatrice.""
He smiled slightly.
"She's suspicious.""
"Based on what?""
"Instinct.""
I almost laughed.
Because that was my word.
My justification.
My excuse.
I had used instinct for years.
And now I wondered how many times someone had manipulated it.
"What if your instinct is wrong?""
Lorenzo looked at me.
"Is it?""
The question hung between us.
A challenge.
I stood.
"Maybe.""
For the first time, uncertainty crossed his face.
Only for a second.
But it was there.
I walked past him.
"Keep watching the house.""
"Of course.""
I stopped at the door.
"Lorenzo.""
"Yes, boss?""
I turned.
"Have you ever wondered what it would be like if Adrian came back?""
The room went completely silent.
A normal person would react with surprise.
Shock.
Confusion.
Lorenzo didn't.
His face changed before he could control it.
Not much.
But enough.
His eyes narrowed.
His breathing stopped.
Then, slowly, he smiled.
A fake smile.
A dangerous one.
"Adrian is dead.""
I stared at him.
"You sound very certain.""
He held my gaze.
"Because I saw the body.""
The words landed like a weapon.
But I knew something now.
Lorenzo was lying.
Not because he was nervous.
Not because he looked guilty.
Because a man who saw a body twelve years ago would not say it like that.
He would say:
I saw what happened.
He would say:
I thought he was gone.
He would remember.
Lorenzo didn't remember.
He confirmed.
I left the office without another word.
The moment the door closed behind me, I took out my phone and sent one message.
Not to a friend.
Not to an ally.
To the only person I still trusted.
Adrian.
*Do not leave the apartment. Do not trust anyone.*
Three seconds later, his reply appeared.
*Too late.*
My heart stopped.
Another message arrived.
*Someone was already here.*
I stared at the screen.
Then came the final message.
A photograph.
Attached.
My hands went cold.
Because the picture showed Adrian sitting at the kitchen table.
Taken less than a minute ago.
And standing behind him was Beatrice.
Holding a knife.
I looked at the image again.
Then again.
Because I knew what I was seeing.
But I also knew one thing.
May you like
Beatrice Gallagher had spent a year risking her life to protect my brother.
So why did she now look like the person who was about to kill him?
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