Chapter 8 - The CrashNatalie finally told him everything.
Five years earlier, Claire had discovered a secret account controlled by the Vale family.
It wasn't a normal bank account.
Money had been moving through it for decades.
Bribes.
Blackmail.
Payments for silence.
But the most frightening entries were marked with names.
Witnesses who disappeared.
Journalists who vanished.
Executives who died in suspicious accidents.
Claire found proof that Daniel Vale was involved.
She tried to expose him.
Then her car crashed.
Everyone believed she died.
But the crash had been staged.
Claire survived.
She escaped from the wreck before the investigators arrived.
Someone had been waiting for her.
Marcus.
He offered protection.
Instead, he imprisoned her.
“Where is she now?” Ethan demanded.
Natalie hesitated.
“An estate outside the city.”
“Take me there.”
“It’s a trap.”
“I don't care.”
Natalie looked at him.
“You should.”
They reached the estate just before dawn.
The house was abandoned.
Empty rooms.
No furniture.
No lights.
But Ethan found a basement.
There was blood on the floor.
A metal bed.
Leather restraints.
A camera.
And a wall covered with photographs.
Claire.
Sophie.
Ethan.
Natalie.
Taken secretly over five years.
Ethan stared at the images.
“They watched us.”
Natalie nodded.
Then Ethan noticed one photograph.
A picture of Claire standing beside a man.
He recognized him instantly.
His own father.
Alive.
The date beneath it was two months after Daniel Mercer was supposedly dead.
Ethan stumbled backward.
“My father was alive?”
Natalie whispered:
“Until six months ago.”
“What?”
“They found him.”
“Who?”
“Marcus.”
A voice came from behind them.
“Not exactly.”
Ethan spun around.
Marcus stood at the basement entrance.
He held a gun.
His face looked older than Ethan had ever seen it.
Tired.
Empty.
“You really should have stayed at the wedding.”
Ethan stepped between him and Natalie.
“Where is Claire?”
Marcus smiled.
“You still think she needs rescuing.”
“What does that mean?”
“She chose this.”
Ethan's anger exploded.
“You kidnapped her!”
Marcus's smile disappeared.
“No.”
He pointed toward a hidden door.
“She walked through it willingly.”
The door opened.
A woman stepped into the room.
Long dark hair.
Thin face.
Trembling hands.
Ethan couldn't breathe.
Claire.
Five years older.
Alive.
Her eyes found his.
“Ethan.”
He crossed the room.
Then stopped.
Something was wrong.
Claire wasn't crying.
She wasn't relieved.
She was terrified.
She looked at Marcus.
Then at Natalie.
Then at Ethan.
And whispered:
“I'm sorry.”
Ethan felt his heart break.
“Why?”
Claire's voice shook.
“Because the person you should fear most…”
She looked behind him.
“…isn't Natalie.”
The basement lights shut off.
May you like
And Marcus said:
“It's Sophie.”
