Chapter 9 - The room went silent.My sister stood beside Grace with one hand gripping the pistol.
My mother had lied about almost everything.
But this?
I didn't know what to believe anymore.
“Let Grace go.”
My sister ignored me.
She looked at the baby.
“He has your father's eyes.”
I stepped forward.
She pressed the gun harder against Grace's temple.
“Don't.”
I stopped.
My father stared at her.
“You were supposed to be dead.”
“So was Adrian.”
Adrian entered behind us.
The two siblings stared at one another.
For the first time, I saw something like fear in Elena's eyes.
“You survived.”
Adrian smiled.
“So did you.”
Grace whispered:
“Luca…”
My sister looked at her.
“You caused all of this.”
Grace shook her head.
“I found the accounts.”
“You found what you weren't meant to find.”
“I found your mother trying to steal Luca's inheritance.”
My sister laughed.
“Your husband doesn't have an inheritance.”
She looked at me.
“His whole life is a lie.”
She lowered the gun slightly.
“You were never supposed to be the heir.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“My father chose me.”
My father shouted:
“Enough!”
She turned toward him.
“You abandoned me.”
“I tried to save you.”
“You saved him.”
She pointed at me.
“You always chose Luca.”
I finally understood.
This was not only about money.
It was jealousy.
A family war that had started before I was even born.
My sister wanted the throne.
My mother wanted control.
Adrian wanted revenge.
My father wanted redemption.
And Grace had become the one person who accidentally uncovered all of it.
“Why was Grace imprisoned?”
My sister answered.
“Because she refused to sign.”
“To sign what?”
“The guardianship agreement.”
She smiled.
“Your wife was going to give birth to the most valuable person in this organization.”
Our son began crying.
My sister looked at him.
“He is not just an heir.”
My father closed his eyes.
I stared.
“What does that mean?”
My sister's smile disappeared.
“Your child has a genetic marker that hasn't appeared in our bloodline for four generations.”
“So?”
“He is resistant to the cardiac mutation that killed every previous heir.”
Silence.
That explained everything.
The family believed the bloodline was doomed.
Our son might end it.
My sister wanted him.
My mother wanted him.
Adrian wanted him dead.
And suddenly Grace screamed.
My sister collapsed.
A bullet had struck her shoulder.
I looked toward the hallway.
My mother stood there.
She was bleeding.
But alive.
She raised her gun.
“Step away from my granddaughter.”
My sister fired back.
The room erupted.
I grabbed Grace.
“Run!”
We escaped down the back staircase.
My father carried the baby.
Adrian stayed behind to fight.
Shots echoed through the mansion.
We reached the courtyard.
An SUV waited.
I opened the door.
Grace climbed inside.
Then a figure appeared in front of us.
My mother.
She pointed her gun at the baby.
“Give him to me.”
I stood between them.
“Never.”
Her eyes filled with something I had never seen before.
Not anger.
Panic.
“You don't understand what happens if he lives.”
My father stepped forward.
“Tell him.”
She looked at him.
Then at me.
And finally at the baby.
“You were never supposed to come back from the war, Luca.”
I froze.
“What?”
She whispered:
“Because I ordered them to kill you six months ago.”
My heart stopped.
“The war wasn't between rival families.”
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She smiled through the blood on her face.
“It was a trap.”
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