Chapter 7 - The Heir Who Was Supposed to Be DeadI read the name three times.
Elena Shaw.
The missing woman.
The dead woman.
The woman Paige had claimed was murdered seven years earlier.
“This is impossible.”
Thomas looked at Marian.
Marian's lips trembled.
“My husband believed Elena was alive.”
“You said she died.”
“I believed she died.”
“But you don't know.”
“No.”
Paige stepped closer.
“I do.”
Everyone turned.
Paige wiped her eyes.
“She survived.”
I stared at her.
“How?”
“Richard hired someone to scare her into disappearing. But she escaped.”
“Where is she now?”
Paige shook her head.
“I don't know.”
Thomas examined the will.
“This was updated eight days before your father's death.”
I frowned.
“My father?”
“No.”
“Marian's husband.”
“Yes.”
“And Elena was named beneficiary?”
“Yes.”
“Why would he leave everything to an employee?”
Thomas looked at the final paragraph.
“Because Elena was not merely an employee.”
He handed me another paper.
DNA test.
I stared.
The names were difficult to process.
Elena Shaw.
Gerald Vale.
Probability of parentage: 99.98%.
I looked at Marian.
“She's his daughter.”
Marian nodded.
“My husband's daughter.”
Half-sister to Evan.
Everything shifted again.
The family secret was not money.
It was blood.
Marian sat down.
“My husband had a daughter before our marriage. He didn't know she existed until years later.”
“Why did he hide her?”
“He didn't.”
She swallowed.
“Richard did.”
I looked at Paige.
“And Evan?”
“He found out.”
“When?”
“After your father confronted him.”
That meant Evan had known Elena was the rightful heir.
And he had planned around it.
Thomas explained:
“If Elena is alive and can establish identity, the trust's entire succession changes.”
“Which means Evan gets nothing.”
“Correct.”
My phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
I answered.
A woman's voice whispered:
“Claire.”
I froze.
“Who is this?”
“My name is Elena.”
The room disappeared around me.
“Where are you?”
“Somewhere you can't find me.”
“Are you alive?”
“Yes.”
I closed my eyes.
“Why did you contact me?”
“Because Evan knows I'm alive.”
“How?”
“He found my apartment.”
“What happened?”
“They tried to take me.”
“Who?”
“Elena…”
Her voice cracked.
“Richard wasn't working alone.”
I glanced at Marian.
“Who else?”
Silence.
Then:
“Your husband.”
The call ended.
I stared at the phone.
Marian stood.
“We need to move.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere Evan doesn't know.”
Thomas shook his head.
“He knows every property connected to the family.”
Marian thought for a moment.
Then she smiled.
“There is one place he never knew existed.”
Three hours later, we arrived at a small farmhouse outside the city.
It belonged to Marian's late husband.
The house was dusty.
Old.
Almost forgotten.
But inside was another safe.
Thomas opened it.
Documents.
Passports.
Cash.
A handwritten ledger.
And a key.
A brass key engraved with the number 1108.
I stared.
“The hotel room.”
Marian nodded.
“The same room from the photograph.”
“What is there?”
“Your husband met Elena there.”
“When?”
“The night before he died.”
“Why?”
“To tell her the truth.”
“What truth?”
Marian handed me a letter.
It was addressed to me.
Claire.
I opened it.
My father's handwriting.
“If you're reading this, the protection system failed or the man I feared finally moved against you. There are things your mother-in-law will not tell you. There are things my daughter cannot know until she is safe.
Do not trust the money.
Do not trust the family business.
And above all, do not trust the person who claims to love you most.”
My hands shook.
At the bottom:
Ask Elena about the hotel room.
We drove to the hotel.
Room 1108 had been remodeled.
The manager checked old records.
The room number still existed.
Thomas showed his credentials.
After several minutes, a housekeeper opened the door.
Nothing unusual.
Until I noticed the vent.
One screw was newer than the others.
Thomas removed it.
Behind it was a small metal case.
Inside was a phone.
A voice recorder.
And another photograph.
This one showed Evan.
Not with Vanessa.
With Richard.
And between them was a suitcase filled with cash.
The recorder contained one audio file.
Thomas pressed play.
Evan's voice filled the room.
“The wedding was the easy part.”
Richard answered:
“Then Claire's father became a problem.”
Evan laughed.
“He won't be for long.”
The recording ended.
I felt sick.
But there was another file.
I pressed play.
My father's voice.
“If anything happens to me, release everything.”
Then another voice answered.
A woman's voice.
Marian.
“I'll protect Claire.”
My father's response was cold.
“From Evan?”
“No.”
“Then from whom?”
Marian was silent.
My father whispered:
“From you.”
The recording stopped.
I looked at Marian.
She closed her eyes.
Then my phone buzzed.
A message appeared.
YOU FOUND THE ROOM.
Another followed.
NOW LOOK AT THE MIRROR.
I turned.
May you like
Written across the hotel mirror in red lipstick were six words.
HE KILLED YOUR FATHER FOR YOU.
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