Chapter 9 - The Man in the PhotographBy noon, Charleston had become a maze of police cars, reporters and black SUVs.
The story spreading online was simple.
A wealthy developer's marriage had collapsed hours after the wedding.
A dead businessman.
A missing inheritance.
A secret child.
The truth was much uglier.
Elliot Whitmore had been killed in a way designed to look like an overdose.
But his autopsy showed traces of a rare sedative.
Someone had wanted him unconscious.
Then someone had strangled him.
The police found another detail.
His final phone call had been to Mercer Tower.
At 1:41 a.m.
Twenty-nine minutes before Daniel left me.
Detective Alvarez put the phone record in front of us.
"Who did he call?"
"Private number."
"Can you trace it?"
"No."
Daniel looked at me.
"I didn't know him well."
Claire stared at him.
"You knew him better than you said."
Daniel didn't answer.
Alvarez turned to me.
"Ms. Mercer, there's another problem."
"What?"
"Elliot had a copy of your father's property ledger."
I looked at Marcus.
"Where?"
"He didn't say."
The detective placed an old photograph on the table.
It showed my father standing beside three men.
Robert Brooks.
Marcus.
And a fourth man.
I stared at him.
Then everything inside me stopped.
I knew him.
Not personally.
From another place.
A framed photograph in Daniel's office.
His mentor.
His business partner.
The man who had helped launch Brooks Development.
Victor Lang.
I looked at Daniel.
"That's Victor."
Daniel nodded slowly.
"Yes."
"Your father knew him."
"So did mine."
Marcus pointed to the photograph.
"He wasn't just a partner."
"What was he?"
"The accountant who moved the money."
I stared.
"Then he's part of the network."
Marcus nodded.
"But Victor has been dead for eight years."
My stomach tightened.
"No."
"What?"
"He isn't dead."
Marcus looked confused.
"How do you know?"
"Because I saw him last month."
Daniel turned sharply.
"Where?"
"At one of the apartment projects in Savannah."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"I didn't think it was important."
Daniel stood.
"Hannah."
I looked at him.
"Why was Victor there?"
"I don't know."
Marcus took the photograph.
"If Victor is alive..."
He stopped.
"What?"
"The ledger."
I frowned.
"What about it?"
"Your father said the network was controlled by one person."
"Victor?"
"Maybe."
My phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
I answered.
"Hello?"
A man's voice spoke softly.
"You shouldn't have opened the ledger."
I froze.
"Who is this?"
"You know me."
I didn't.
"You have my father's records."
"Your father was not the man you think he was."
"I know."
The voice chuckled.
"No. You don't."
"Who are you?"
"Ask Daniel about the hotel."
I looked at him.
"What hotel?"
The call ended.
"What hotel?" I demanded.
Daniel's face went rigid.
"I don't know."
"You're lying."
"Yes."
My heart sank.
"Tell me."
He looked at Claire.
Claire whispered:
"Ravenswood."
Daniel closed his eyes.
"What happened at Ravenswood?"
Claire answered.
"Seven years ago, the night Emma was born."
I stared at her.
"Daniel wasn't there."
"He was."
"Why?"
"Because your mother was there."
I turned toward Daniel.
"My mother?"
He nodded slowly.
"She brought Emma to him."
"Why?"
"Because she needed him to sign something."
"What?"
He looked at me.
"The original marriage agreement."
I didn't understand.
"Why would my mother care who Daniel married?"
Daniel whispered:
"Because she had already decided who your husband would be."
I froze.
"She chose you."
He nodded.
"For one reason."
"What reason?"
He reached into his wallet.
Pulled out an old photograph.
It showed a young Daniel.
A little girl.
And my mother standing behind them.
My hands trembled.
"When was this taken?"
"Twenty years ago."
I stared at the girl.
She was about nine.
I recognized her immediately.
It was me.
I looked at Daniel.
"I knew you."
He nodded.
"Before we met."
"Where?"
"Ravenswood."
I stepped backward.
"What happened there?"
He hesitated.
Then said:
"Your mother introduced us."
I felt numb.
"What did she tell you?"
Daniel's voice broke.
"That one day you would marry me."
The room went silent.
I stared at him.
She had planned our marriage twenty years ago.
The wedding.
The trust.
The empire.
Emma.
Everything.
But one question remained.
Why?
Before anyone could answer, the lights in the room went out.
The security system screamed.
Then every screen in Mercer Tower turned on.
My mother's face appeared.
She was sitting in a chair.
Behind her was a wall covered in photographs.
Photographs of me.
Daniel.
Claire.
Emma.
Sophie.
Even Marcus.
My mother's voice came through the speakers.
"Hannah."
I stepped toward the screen.
"Where are you?"
She smiled.
"At the place where this all began."
The image changed.
Ravenswood Hotel.
Then another.
The old chapel.
Then another.
A photograph of my father.
And a final image.
A grave.
With my name carved into the stone.
My blood froze.
My mother whispered:
"Come home, Hannah."
Then the screen went black.
May you like
And beneath the video appeared a single sentence.
YOU HAVE UNTIL MIDNIGHT.
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