Chapter 13 - The Recording Before the CrashGideon was alive.
The bullet had grazed his shoulder.
Marcus secured the room.
Richard had disappeared.
But Stallone no longer cared about chasing him.
He had one objective.
The original recording.
Daniel had claimed it existed.
And now Stallone finally knew where it was hidden.
Inside the old trust office.
A room nobody had used since his father's disappearance.
They entered before sunrise.
The office was covered in dust.
Stallone searched every drawer.
Nothing.
Then Adam pointed at a painting.
“There.”
A small landscape.
Behind it was a safe.
Gideon opened the panel.
Inside was a single memory card.
Stallone inserted it.
The video began.
His wife sat inside the car.
Noah was sleeping beside her.
She looked into the camera.
“If you're seeing this, I need you to listen carefully.”
Stallone couldn't breathe.
Her voice continued.
“The person stealing from the trust isn't my husband.”
Stallone closed his eyes.
“I know because I found the original records.”
She held up documents.
“The money is being transferred into a private account controlled by someone who has access to the entire family.”
A shadow moved outside the car.
She looked toward the window.
Then back at the camera.
“The person I fear most is not the person taking the money.”
A pause.
“It is the person protecting them.”
Stallone leaned closer.
She continued.
“I asked Helen for help.”
Helen's face crumpled.
“She told me to trust Julian.”
Julian looked down.
“I didn't know she was recording this.”
His wife continued.
“Julian said he had found the person behind the transfers.”
She whispered the name.
Daniel Cross.
But then she added something unexpected.
“Daniel isn't working alone.”
The video flickered.
A second person entered the frame.
His face was blurred.
His voice distorted.
He handed Daniel a folder.
Then left.
Stallone stared.
“Enhance that.”
The investigator tried.
The blur became slightly clearer.
Not enough.
Then the man's hand came into view.
A ring.
Black stone.
Gold edge.
Stallone stared.
He knew that ring.
His father wore it.
He turned.
His father was standing in the doorway.
The old man looked exhausted.
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“You were the second person.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
His father stepped inside.
“Because Daniel threatened your wife.”
“With what?”
“With Noah.”
Stallone shook his head.
“You could have told me.”
“I couldn't.”
“You let her die.”
His father closed his eyes.
“I tried to stop it.”
“You failed.”
“Yes.”
The recording suddenly changed.
A new angle.
Inside the car.
The camera had been hidden behind the rearview mirror.
Now everyone could see.
Daniel entered.
His father entered.
Helen arrived.
And then someone else.
Stallone stared.
His wife looked toward the person.
Then whispered:
“Why are you here?”
The person stepped forward.
The face became visible.
Stallone's breath stopped.
It wasn't Richard.
It wasn't Daniel.
It wasn't his father.
It was someone he had trusted for years.
Someone who had stayed beside Noah every night.
Someone who had claimed to love the boy.
Someone who had cried when Stallone came home.
Mara.
But the video did not show Mara attacking Noah.
It showed her kneeling beside his mother.
Her wife whispered:
“Please protect my children.”
Mara nodded.
“I will.”
Then Daniel entered.
“Take the boy.”
Mara refused.
“No.”
Daniel raised a weapon.
“You know what happens to your family.”
Mara began crying.
She took Noah.
But before leaving, Stallone's wife whispered something into her ear.
The audio was barely audible.
The investigators enhanced it.
“Mara, the song.”
Mara nodded.
Then she carried Noah away.
The recording stopped.
Stallone stared at Mara.
She was shaking.
He remembered her confession.
“I never wanted to.”
She had been threatened.
But there was more.
Stallone looked at the investigator.
“Play the next file.”
A second recording appeared.
Mara was inside the kitchen.
Speaking into a hidden camera.
She looked directly at the lens.
“If Stallone ever finds this, tell him I was trying to protect Noah.”
She turned.
Someone entered the room.
Only a silhouette.
The figure said:
“You were told to make him remember.”
Mara whispered:
“He doesn't deserve this.”
The figure stepped closer.
The camera finally caught the face.
Stallone stared.
The figure wasn't Mara's employer.
It wasn't Daniel.
It wasn't Richard.
It was Helen.
But Helen was crying as she spoke.
“You don't understand.”
The recording ended.
Stallone turned toward his mother.
“What don't I understand?”
Helen didn't answer.
Instead, she whispered:
“Your wife wasn't the victim I thought she was.”
Stallone froze.
“What?”
“She planned everything.”
“Planned what?”
May you like
Helen looked at Noah.
“The crash.”
