Chapter 13: The Grandson Victor Wanted
Andrew dropped to his knees.
Nobody moved.
The rain poured over him as he stared at Victor.
“My grandson?”
Victor smiled.
“Yes.”
Andrew shook his head.
“No.”
“You have my eyes.”
“I don't know you.”
“You were never supposed to.”
Victor stepped closer.
Michael raised his gun.
“Stay back.”
Victor didn't even look at him.
“You've spent thirty years hiding my family from me.”
Michael's jaw tightened.
“You don't have a family.”
Victor smiled.
“I have blood.”
He pointed at Andrew.
“And that is all I ever needed.”
I looked at Andrew.
His face had gone completely white.
“Tell me this isn't true.”
He looked at me.
“I don't know.”
Victor laughed softly.
“Of course he doesn't.”
He reached into his coat and pulled out a document.
“His birth records were altered too.”
I stared at the paper.
The name at the top was Andrew Carter.
But underneath it was another name.
Andrew Hale.
Hale.
The same surname Victor had given me.
I looked at Michael.
“You knew.”
Michael nodded.
“I knew Andrew was Victor's grandson.”
Andrew looked at him.
“You knew?”
“Yes.”
“And you still let me marry her?”
“I tried to stop it.”
“You could have told me.”
“You were already being watched.”
“By Victor?”
“Yes.”
Victor smiled.
“By me.”
Andrew looked toward him.
“Why?”
“Because you were the last piece.”
“The last piece of what?”
Victor walked toward him.
“Your father.”
Andrew's expression changed.
“My father is dead.”
“No.”
Victor shook his head.
“Your father is alive.”
Richard suddenly stepped forward.
“Victor.”
Victor turned.
“What?”
“You said he was dead.”
“I lied.”
Richard's face hardened.
“You told me I was his son.”
“You are.”
“Then who is Andrew's father?”
Victor smiled.
“Michael.”
The cemetery fell silent.
I stared at my father.
Michael looked at me.
“I didn't know.”
Andrew stood slowly.
“You're my father?”
Michael couldn't answer.
Andrew's voice cracked.
“Are you?”
Michael nodded.
“Yes.”
Andrew stumbled backward.
“No.”
Michael stepped toward him.
“Andrew…”
“Don't.”
Andrew raised his hand.
“You knew?”
“I found out after you were born.”
“Then why did Lorraine raise me?”
“Because Victor was looking for you.”
“And you let me believe I was Richard's son.”
“Yes.”
Andrew laughed bitterly.
“So all these years…”
He looked at Richard.
“You lied to me.”
Richard didn't deny it.
“I protected you.”
“You manipulated me.”
“Yes.”
“You made me marry her.”
Richard glanced at me.
“Yes.”
Andrew's face twisted with anger.
“You used me.”
Richard's voice softened.
“I needed access to the Carter trust.”
“And if I had succeeded?”
“You would have inherited everything.”
“And then?”
Richard didn't answer.
Andrew understood.
“You would have killed me.”
Richard looked away.
I stepped between them.
“Enough.”
Everyone looked at me.
I turned toward Michael.
“Why was Andrew hidden?”
Michael answered:
“Because Victor believed Andrew carried something genetically unique.”
“What?”
“A rare blood marker.”
I frowned.
“The same thing he wanted from me?”
“No.”
Michael shook his head.
“Something different.”
Victor smiled.
“Something far more valuable.”
He looked at Andrew.
“Your blood can unlock the original trust.”
Andrew stared at him.
“What does that mean?”
Victor's expression became almost proud.
“Your grandfather created the trust.”
Michael shook his head.
“No.”
Victor ignored him.
“He designed it so that only one bloodline could access the original assets.”
“Which bloodline?”
“Mine.”
Andrew looked confused.
“And that's me?”
Victor nodded.
“You are the final living Hale heir.”
I looked at the documents.
“But what about me?”
Victor looked at me.
“You are the decoy.”
My stomach dropped.
“Decoy?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did you spend years watching me?”
“Because your father made me believe you were the heir.”
I looked at Michael.
“You used me to hide Andrew.”
“Yes.”
“You made me believe everything belonged to me.”
“I had to.”
“Why?”
“Because if Victor believed you were the heir, he would chase you.”
I stared at him.
“And Andrew?”
“He could live unnoticed.”
I laughed bitterly.
“He married me.”
“I know.”
“He lied to me.”
“I know.”
“He almost destroyed my life.”
“I know.”
I looked at Andrew.
“And you knew none of this?”
He shook his head.
“I swear.”
Victor laughed.
“You both still don't understand.”
He pointed toward the cemetery.
“The trust isn't about money.”
I frowned.
“Then what?”
“Power.”
Richard stepped forward.
“You said the assets were worth billions.”
“They are.”
“Then why call it power?”
Victor smiled.
“Because money is only the surface.”
He looked at me.
“The original trust controls voting shares in twenty-seven companies.”
I stared at him.
“Twenty-seven?”
“Banks. Hospitals. Insurance companies. Property groups.”
My stomach turned.
“You built all of that?”
“No.”
He smiled.
“Your great-grandfather did.”
I looked at Andrew.
“And the trust controls them?”
“Yes.”
“Through the bloodline?”
“Yes.”
“Then why do you need us?”
“Because the original trust has been locked for thirty-two years.”
Victor looked at Andrew.
“Only you can open it.”
Andrew shook his head.
“I don't know how.”
Victor smiled.
“You will.”
Michael raised his gun again.
“You're not taking him.”
Victor sighed.
“Still pretending you're brave.”
Michael stepped forward.
“You're not touching my son.”
Victor looked at him.
“You've called him your son for thirty years.”
Michael's face hardened.
“He is my son.”
Victor smiled.
“Then you should have told him what happened at Mercy Hospital.”
Michael went pale.
Andrew looked at him.
“What happened?”
Michael said nothing.
Andrew's voice rose.
“What happened?”
Victor answered.
“Your father killed Clara.”
Andrew froze.
“No.”
Michael shook his head.
“Victor is lying.”
“Then tell him the truth.”
Michael's eyes closed.
I stepped closer.
“Dad.”
He opened his eyes.
“I didn't kill Clara.”
“Then what happened?”
“I shot Richard.”
Richard's face tightened.
“I told you that.”
Michael continued.
“Clara was already dead.”
“Who killed her?”
He looked at Andrew.
“You.”
Andrew staggered backward.
“What?”
“You were there.”
“I was a child.”
“You were seven.”
Andrew stared at him.
“I didn't kill anyone.”
“No.”
Michael's voice broke.
“You didn't pull the trigger.”
“Then what did I do?”
“You opened the door.”
Andrew frowned.
“What door?”
“The room where Clara was hiding.”
I felt my chest tighten.
“And then?”
“Victor's men entered.”
Andrew looked at Victor.
Victor smiled.
“They found her because of you.”
Andrew's face collapsed.
“I didn't know.”
“I know.”
“Then why blame me?”
“I don't.”
Michael looked toward me.
“I blame myself.”
A siren sounded in the distance.
Everyone turned.
Police cars were approaching the cemetery.
Victor smiled.
“Time to leave.”
Richard raised his weapon.
“Not without me.”
Victor looked at him.
“You're finished.”
Richard's face darkened.
“You need me.”
“No.”
Victor pointed toward the road.
“I need Andrew.”
Then he looked at me.
“And you.”
My stomach tightened.
“Why me?”
“Because Andrew won't cooperate without you.”
I stepped backward.
“You're wrong.”
Victor smiled.
“Am I?”
He raised his hand.
A sniper laser appeared on Andrew's chest.
Andrew froze.
I immediately stepped in front of him.
“Don't.”
Victor smiled.
“There.”
He pointed at me.
“That is why I knew you would work.”
Michael shouted:
“Get down!”
A gunshot exploded.
Michael pushed me aside.
The bullet struck him in the shoulder.
“Dad!”
He fell.
Everything erupted.
Richard fired toward the trees.
Emily grabbed Lorraine.
Andrew pulled me behind a grave.
Victor disappeared into the rain.
I crawled toward my father.
Blood soaked his shirt.
“Dad.”
He grabbed my hand.
“Listen.”
“No.”
“Listen to me.”
“I'll call an ambulance.”
“You don't have time.”
His breathing became shallow.
“Your mother left something for you.”
“What?”
“A recording.”
“Where?”
“At the old house.”
“The lake house?”
“No.”
He coughed.
“Your childhood home.”
I froze.
“Our house?”
“Yes.”
“What recording?”
“Your mother knew she was going to die.”
I squeezed his hand.
“What did she record?”
Michael looked toward Andrew.
“Everything.”
Then he looked at me.
“Especially the truth about Victor.”
“Where is it?”
He whispered:
“Behind the fireplace.”
His eyes closed.
“Dad!”
I shook him.
“Dad!”
No response.
Andrew knelt beside me.
“He's breathing.”
I looked at the approaching police lights.
Then toward the road.
Victor was gone.
Richard was gone.
Only Emily and Lorraine remained.
And suddenly I realized something.
Victor had deliberately let the police arrive.
He wanted us to leave.
He wanted us to go home.
Because the recording was there.
The final piece of the puzzle.
We drove back to my childhood home before the police could stop us.
The house looked exactly as I remembered.
Same white walls.
Same old oak staircase.
Same fireplace.
I walked toward it.
My hands trembled.
I ran my fingers along the stone.
Nothing.
Then Emily pointed.
“Look.”
There was a tiny crack beneath the mantel.
I pushed.
A hidden panel opened.
Inside was a black recorder.
And a photograph.
I picked up the photograph.
My mother was holding me as a baby.
Behind her stood my father.
But there was someone else.
A man in the corner.
Victor.
I turned the photograph over.
Three words were written in my mother's handwriting.
HE IS NOT ALONE.
The recorder clicked on by itself.
My mother's voice filled the room.
“If you're hearing this, Michael failed.”
I froze.
Her voice continued.
“And if Michael failed, Victor has already found you.”
A pause.
“There's one thing you must understand.”
The recording crackled.
“Victor was never the mastermind.”
I looked at Emily.
She went pale.
My mother's voice continued.
“The man behind everything is someone you already know.”
I held my breath.
Then she said his name.
“Andrew.”
I slowly turned.
Andrew was standing behind me.
His face was completely expressionless.
And in his hand was a gun.
He whispered:
May you like
“I'm sorry.”
Then he pointed it directly at me.
