Chapter 9 - THE TRAPThe gates slammed shut.
Armed men surrounded the estate.
Victor's voice came through the loudspeakers.
“Alexander.”
He sounded almost amused.
“Come outside.”
Alexander grabbed a pistol from Marcus.
“No.”
Victor laughed.
“Then I burn the house.”
Marcus looked at me.
“There's another exit.”
The basement had an old tunnel.
But before we could reach it, smoke began entering through the vents.
Victor had started the fire.
We moved fast.
Lily held the red box tightly.
Inside the tunnel, Amelia had left another clue.
A metal door.
The key opened it.
Beyond the door was an underground room.
And Amelia was there.
Alive.
Pale.
Thin.
Her hair shorter.
But unmistakably Amelia Whitmore.
Alexander stopped.
For several seconds neither of them moved.
Then Amelia whispered:
“Alexander.”
He walked toward her.
She stepped backward.
“I can't.”
He froze.
“Why?”
“Because they may be watching.”
Marcus checked the room.
“No cameras.”
Amelia shook her head.
“They don't need cameras.”
She looked at Lily.
Then me.
“They use people.”
Alexander stared at her.
“Tell me everything.”
Amelia explained that three years earlier she discovered the offshore accounts.
She confronted Victor.
Victor threatened her unborn child.
She ran.
Her car was sabotaged.
The crash killed her driver.
Amelia survived.
Marcus found her.
He hid her.
But Victor found her again.
He had Amelia taken to the medical foundation and declared mentally unstable.
For three years, she was moved between private facilities.
Then, eight months ago, Cynthia discovered the trust.
“The trust wasn't created to give shares to Vanessa's baby,” Amelia said.
Alexander frowned.
“Then why?”
“To move your voting control.”
She explained.
Once Alexander transferred enough company shares into the child trust, Cynthia would become guardian.
She would control the largest voting block in Whitmore Holdings.
Then came the most shocking revelation.
“The trust paperwork uses my signature.”
Alexander stared.
“Your signature?”
“Yes.”
“But you didn't sign it.”
“No.”
Amelia looked at Marcus.
“They forged it.”
Marcus nodded.
Alexander's anger returned.
“Who?”
Amelia whispered:
“The attorney.”
The family attorney.
But then Amelia said something that made us all freeze.
“He wasn't working for Cynthia.”
“Then who?”
She looked at Alexander.
“Your father.”
Silence.
“That’s impossible.”
“He died seven years ago.”
“I know.”
Amelia opened the red velvet box.
Inside was a memory card.
She inserted it into the laptop.
A video loaded.
The screen showed Edward Whitmore.
Alive.
Recorded only months before Amelia's supposed death.
Edward looked directly into the camera.
“If Victor thinks I'm dead, let him believe it.”
Alexander stopped breathing.
His father had not died seven years ago.
He had vanished.
And someone had been pretending to be his father ever since.
The video ended with one final sentence.
The man running my company is not my brother.
Alexander whispered:
“Then who the hell is he?”
Amelia looked at him.
“That's what I was trying to find out.”
The basement lights suddenly went off.
Then we heard footsteps.
May you like
Slow.
Coming toward us.
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