Chapter 4: The Mansion That Was Supposed to Be Empty
The old Vale mansion had been abandoned for seventeen years.
At least, that was what every public record claimed.
The property had supposedly been sold after Edward Vale's disappearance.
The house had been stripped.
The servants dismissed.
The furniture auctioned.
The gates locked.
And the family name removed from the property registry.
But Charlotte knew better.
She had been there once.
She was eight years old.
She remembered standing beneath the enormous oak tree in the front garden while her mother knelt beside her.
“Never come here alone,” Elena had whispered.
Charlotte had asked why.
Her mother had only kissed her forehead.
“Because some doors should stay closed until you're old enough to understand what's behind them.”
Charlotte had forgotten the moment.
Until tonight.
Now, seventeen years later, she stood outside those same iron gates.
Rain hammered the windshield of the black SUV.
The mansion rose beyond the trees.
Dark.
Silent.
Waiting.
Charlotte stared at it.
“This place isn't abandoned.”
Victor sat beside her.
“No.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I was here three nights ago.”
Charlotte turned sharply.
“You've been here?”
Victor nodded.
“And you didn't tell me?”
“I wasn't sure who I could trust.”
Charlotte laughed bitterly.
“Apparently nobody.”
Victor looked at her.
“That is becoming the most important lesson you'll learn.”
The driver stopped.
Victor reached for the door.
Charlotte grabbed his arm.
“Wait.”
He looked at her.
“You said my father is here.”
“Yes.”
“Then why haven't I seen him?”
Victor hesitated.
“Because he doesn't know you're coming.”
Charlotte's heart tightened.
“You mean he doesn't know I'm alive?”
Victor looked away.
“He believes you died.”
Charlotte stared at him.
“What?”
“Your mother told him that.”
“Why?”
“To keep you hidden.”
Charlotte shook her head.
“She told him I was dead?”
“Yes.”
“Why would she do that?”
Victor looked through the rain-covered window.
“Because the people hunting your family were searching for you.”
Charlotte's voice broke.
“She made my father believe his daughter was dead.”
“She thought it was the only way to keep you alive.”
Charlotte looked at the mansion.
All those years.
All those birthdays.
All those nights wondering why her father had never come back.
He had been alive.
Somewhere.
Believing she was gone.
She opened the door.
Victor grabbed her wrist.
“Charlotte.”
She turned.
“If your father is inside, you need to prepare yourself.”
“For what?”
“He may not be the man you remember.”
Charlotte frowned.
“I was five.”
Victor nodded.
“And he has spent twenty years in hiding.”
She pulled her arm free.
“I don't care.”
She stepped into the rain.
The mansion's front door opened before she reached it.
Charlotte stopped.
Someone was standing inside.
A woman.
Old.
Thin.
Holding an oil lamp.
She stared at Charlotte.
The lamp slipped from her hand.
It shattered on the floor.
“Miss Charlotte?”
Charlotte froze.
“How do you know my name?”
The woman began crying.
“I knew you'd come.”
Victor stepped forward.
“Mrs. Harper.”
The old woman's eyes moved to him.
“You brought her.”
“Yes.”
Mrs. Harper looked back at Charlotte.
“Your mother promised me you would return.”
Charlotte's heart pounded.
“My mother knew you were here?”
Mrs. Harper nodded.
“She came here the night before she died.”
Charlotte's breath caught.
“What did she say?”
Mrs. Harper looked toward the hallway.
“She told me to prepare the house.”
“For me?”
“Yes.”
Charlotte entered.
The smell hit her first.
Old wood.
Dust.
Rain.
And something strangely familiar.
She walked through the foyer.
A grand staircase curved upward.
Portraits hung along the walls.
Most were covered in white sheets.
Charlotte touched one.
Mrs. Harper whispered:
“Don't.”
Charlotte stopped.
“Why?”
“Your mother told me never to uncover that one.”
Charlotte pulled the sheet away.
A portrait appeared.
Her father.
Edward Vale.
Charlotte stared.
She had almost no memories of his face.
But the moment she saw him, something inside her broke.
Dark hair.
Strong jaw.
A small scar above his eyebrow.
And eyes that looked strangely familiar.
Her own eyes.
Charlotte reached toward the portrait.
“Dad…”
Mrs. Harper began crying.
Victor looked away.
Then Charlotte noticed something.
The portrait had been painted recently.
Not seventeen years ago.
The paint was still slightly glossy.
She turned.
“When was this painted?”
Mrs. Harper didn't answer.
“Mrs. Harper.”
The woman swallowed.
“Last month.”
Charlotte's heart stopped.
“Last month?”
“Yes.”
“Then he's alive.”
Mrs. Harper nodded.
“He's here.”
Charlotte turned toward the hallway.
“Where?”
Before Mrs. Harper could answer, a loud sound came from upstairs.
A door slammed.
Charlotte looked up.
Then she heard footsteps.
Slow.
Heavy.
Coming down the staircase.
Victor immediately reached for the gun hidden beneath his jacket.
Charlotte whispered:
“Don't.”
Victor froze.
A man appeared at the top of the stairs.
He was older.
Much older than the photograph.
His hair was streaked with gray.
His face was thinner.
There were scars along his neck.
He held onto the railing as he descended.
Charlotte couldn't move.
The man reached the bottom step.
Their eyes met.
He stopped.
The entire mansion seemed to disappear.
His lips trembled.
“No…”
Charlotte's eyes filled with tears.
“Dad?”
The man's face collapsed.
He dropped the railing.
“Charlotte?”
She ran toward him.
He caught her.
His arms wrapped around her with desperate force.
Charlotte buried her face against his chest.
He was shaking.
“You're alive.”
She cried.
“So are you.”
Edward held her tighter.
“I thought…”
His voice broke.
“I thought you were dead.”
Charlotte pulled away.
“Mom told you I died?”
Edward closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
Charlotte looked at Victor.
Victor lowered his head.
Edward noticed him.
His expression immediately changed.
“You.”
Victor stepped forward.
“Edward.”
“You brought her here?”
“Yes.”
Edward's eyes hardened.
“You shouldn't have.”
Charlotte looked between them.
“What happened?”
Edward said nothing.
Charlotte grabbed his arm.
“What happened to Mom?”
Edward's face became pale.
“She was murdered.”
Charlotte's breathing stopped.
“I know.”
Edward stared at her.
“You know?”
“Victor told me.”
Edward looked at Victor.
“You told her?”
“She had the right to know.”
Edward shook his head.
“She wasn't ready.”
Charlotte stepped between them.
“I am ready.”
Edward stared at his daughter.
Then he slowly nodded.
“Your mother discovered the truth.”
“What truth?”
Edward walked toward the fireplace.
He touched a hidden mechanism beneath the mantel.
A section of the wall opened.
Inside was a metal safe.
Charlotte stared.
“What is that?”
“Everything your mother spent twenty years protecting.”
Edward entered a code.
The safe opened.
Inside were documents.
Hard drives.
Photographs.
Bank records.
And one red folder.
Edward picked it up.
“This is why your mother died.”
Charlotte took the folder.
Her fingers trembled.
Inside was a list of names.
She recognized nearly every one.
Executives.
Lawyers.
Politicians.
Bankers.
People she had seen on television.
People who had attended her mother's funeral.
People who had publicly mourned her.
At the bottom was one name circled in black ink.
Charlotte stared.
“Who is this?”
Edward's expression darkened.
“The man who owns the largest private security company in the country.”
Charlotte looked at the photograph attached to the file.
Her blood ran cold.
It was the man who had attacked her at the hotel.
The shooter.
The man whose face she had only seen for a fraction of a second.
Victor whispered:
“Damian Sterling.”
Charlotte looked up.
“Victoria's father?”
Edward nodded.
“Yes.”
Everything suddenly connected.
Victoria.
The hotel.
The executives.
The attack.
Her mother's death.
The missing inheritance.
Charlotte's voice became cold.
“They've been working together.”
Edward nodded.
“For years.”
Charlotte flipped through the documents.
Then she found something else.
A bank transfer.
Millions of dollars.
Paid from Solmere Holdings.
Recipient:
VICTOR VALE.
Charlotte froze.
She slowly looked at her uncle.
Victor's face changed.
Edward immediately stepped forward.
“Charlotte, listen to me.”
She raised the document.
“Why did Solmere pay Victor?”
Victor said nothing.
Charlotte's voice became sharper.
“You told me you were helping my mother.”
“I was.”
“Then why were you receiving millions from the company?”
Victor's jaw tightened.
“Because your mother asked me to.”
“Why?”
“Because she needed someone inside the organization.”
Charlotte shook her head.
“You expect me to believe that?”
Victor looked at Edward.
Edward's face was unreadable.
Then Victor said something that made Charlotte's blood run cold.
“The money wasn't for me.”
“Then who was it for?”
Victor looked directly at her.
“Your father.”
Charlotte turned toward Edward.
He didn't deny it.
Charlotte's eyes narrowed.
“Dad?”
Edward finally spoke.
“That money kept me alive.”
“Who was paying to keep you alive?”
Edward hesitated.
Then the mansion lights suddenly went out.
Everyone froze.
A car engine roared outside.
Mrs. Harper screamed.
“They found us!”
Edward grabbed Charlotte.
“Basement. Now.”
“What?”
“MOVE!”
Glass shattered upstairs.
A bullet tore through the window.
Victor pulled his weapon.
Another bullet struck the wall beside Charlotte's head.
Edward dragged her toward a hidden door.
Charlotte looked back.
Through the broken window, she saw several black vehicles surrounding the mansion.
Men in tactical clothing poured out.
And standing in the rain beside the first vehicle was Damian Sterling.
Victoria's father.
The man responsible for her mother's death.
He looked directly toward the mansion.
Then he smiled.
His phone rang.
He answered.
“Yes?”
A voice spoke.
Damian glanced at the upper window.
“I found them.”
A pause.
His smile widened.
“Both of them.”
He looked toward the mansion.
“Edward Vale and his daughter.”
Inside, Charlotte stared at her father.
“Why are they after you?”
Edward's expression became grim.
“Because I know where the original Solmere fortune is hidden.”
Charlotte froze.
“What fortune?”
Edward opened the hidden basement door.
“The money your mother stole back from them.”
Charlotte stared.
“How much?”
Edward looked into her eyes.
“Thirty-two billion dollars.”
Outside, the mansion doors began to shake.
Someone was trying to break in.
Edward grabbed Charlotte's hand.
“And tonight…”
May you like
He whispered:
“…they're going to kill us to get it.”
