Chapter 11 - The Barrett KingThe man behind every moveVictor Barrett was sixty-three.
Untouchable.
Elegant.
A billionaire in public.
A kingmaker in private.
He greeted me in a warehouse overlooking Boston Harbor with the confidence of a man who believed death was an appointment other people kept.
My five sons sat at a table behind him.
Alive.
Terrified.
Elena was forced to kneel nearby.
Sloane was with me.
She had ignored her doctor's orders.
Victor smiled.
“Dominic.”
I walked forward.
“Release them.”
He laughed.
“You still think this is about the children.”
“Then what is it about?”
“You.”
He pointed at me.
“My daughter was supposed to marry you tonight.”
“I know.”
“You would have signed the empire away.”
“I know.”
“And then you would have activated the will.”
I stared.
“The will belongs to the boys.”
Victor nodded.
“Exactly.”
He opened a briefcase.
Inside was the Black Ledger.
The original.
“Your father spent thirty years building an empire.”
Victor smiled.
“I spent thirty years deciding who would own it.”
I looked at the ledger.
“You killed people for this.”
“People kill for less.”
“Give it to me.”
“No.”
He opened to the final page.
There were five names.
The boys.
Then mine.
And below mine was Sloane's.
I looked at her.
“What does that mean?”
Victor smiled.
“She is not your enemy, Dominic.”
Sloane whispered.
“Dad.”
Victor looked at her.
“You were supposed to keep him obedient.”
Sloane shook her head.
“I tried.”
Victor's expression hardened.
“And you failed.”
He snapped his fingers.
One of his men grabbed her.
I aimed my gun.
“Touch her and I shoot.”
Victor laughed.
“You still care.”
“I do.”
Sloane looked at me.
“Dominic, don't.”
Victor stepped closer.
“You're about to learn the final truth.”
He held up the ledger.
“Your real father left you something.”
My eyes narrowed.
“What?”
Victor smiled.
“A sixth heir.”
The world stopped.
“There were six children.”
Elena gasped.
“No.”
Victor nodded.
“The sixth was born after the other five.”
I looked at Elena.
She was shaking violently.
“You said five.”
“I thought…”
“You thought what?”
“I thought the sixth was dead.”
Victor smiled.
“He wasn't.”
He pulled out his phone.
A video began playing.
A teenage boy stood in a room.
Same eyes.
Same face.
Different age.
He stared into the camera.
“Hello, Dominic.”
I couldn't breathe.
The boy smiled.
“I'm your son.”
The screen went black.
May you like
Victor leaned closer.
“And he's the one who will kill you.”
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