Chapter 3 - The Woman in the Photograph
The enemy who knew my grief better than I did
Victor smiled.
He was seventy now, silver-haired, perfectly dressed, and calm enough to make the gun in his hand look like a business accessory.
For ten years, I had called him Uncle Victor.
For ten years, I had thanked him for saving Cross Capital when I was broken.
For ten years, I had believed he was one of the few people who understood what Emily's death had done to me.
Now he was standing over Lena Brooks with blood on his shoes.
"You were always emotional, Nathaniel," he said.
I stared at the gun.
"You killed Claire."
Victor sighed.
"She made poor decisions."
"You killed my wife."
"And I saved your company."
I felt something in me change.
The grief I had carried for ten years suddenly had somewhere to go.
Toward him.
"You knew Emily was alive."
Victor's eyes narrowed.
"Yes."
The word hit harder than a bullet.
My voice dropped.
"Where is she?"
"Far away."
"Where?"
"You don't need to know."
I stepped forward.
"Where is my daughter?"
Victor raised the gun.
"Do you understand why you survived, Nathaniel?"
I said nothing.
"Because you were useful."
He pointed toward the recorder.
"Claire found evidence. Financial transfers. Shell corporations. Accounts connected to foreign governments and criminal groups."
I stared at him.
"Cross Capital."
He smiled.
"Exactly."
Lena moved slightly.
Victor noticed.
He fired.
The bullet hit the wall beside her head.
I lunged.
The gun went off again.
Glass exploded behind me.
Victor shoved me backward and ran.
By the time I reached the hallway, he was gone.
Sirens approached.
Marcus had ignored my order.
Of course he had.
He and two guards stormed into the apartment.
"Lena!"
She was alive.
Barely.
I knelt beside her.
"Where is Emily?"
Her eyes opened.
She grabbed my wrist.
"She doesn't know you."
The words crushed me.
"What?"
"She thinks you're dead."
My breath caught.
"Why?"
"Because that's what we told her."
I stared.
Lena coughed.
"We had no choice."
"You had ten years."
"We had men following us."
She looked toward Maya.
"Victor searched for her."
"Where is Emily?"
Lena closed her eyes.
"I sent her away."
"Where?"
Before she could answer, the apartment lights went out.
Every light.
Blackness swallowed the room.
Marcus shouted.
"Everybody down!"
Gunfire erupted outside.
Three shots.
Then four.
Lena screamed.
I pulled Maya behind the couch.
Marcus returned fire through the window.
A vehicle tore away from the curb.
We waited.
Silence.
Then Lena whispered.
"Boston."
I crawled toward her.
"What about Boston?"
"Emily is there."
"Where?"
"The old summer house."
My heart slammed.
Our summer house.
The place Claire and I had spent the first year of our marriage.
The house that had burned down after the accident.
Except I remembered something.
It had not burned down.
The insurance company had told me it was demolished because of structural damage.
I had never gone back.
Lena looked at me.
"Claire left something there."
"What?"
"The proof."
"What proof?"
"The real reason Emily was taken."
I stared at her.
"Who took her?"
Lena's hand tightened around mine.
"Not Victor."
I froze.
"There was another person."
"Who?"
Lena's eyes shifted toward Maya.
"Someone close enough to make sure you would never look at them."
Before I could ask another question, Marcus spoke.
"Sir."
He pointed toward the floor.
There was a red laser dot on the opposite wall.
Sniper.
"DOWN!"
We dropped.
A bullet tore through the window.
Maya screamed.
And Lena whispered the name.
"Daniel."
My lawyer.
May you like
My oldest friend.
The man who had handled every document after Claire's death.
