Chapter 8 - The BetrayalMy mother was not who I thought she was.
That sentence should have been impossible.
But by then, impossible had become the family business.
My father sat across from me.
“I wanted to protect you.”
I stared at him.
“So you abandoned me?”
He looked down.
“We thought if Victor believed you were outside the family, he'd leave you alone.”
“You made me the easiest person to sacrifice.”
“I know.”
“No.”
My voice cracked.
“You don't know.”
He flinched.
“Your wedding had thirty-seven empty chairs because you made a choice.”
“We had no choice.”
“You always have a choice.”
Silence.
Then he said:
“Your mother was the one who chose Victor.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
“She knew what he wanted.”
“Why would Mom invite him into Khloe's life?”
“She thought she could control him.”
I laughed bitterly.
“She couldn't even control her own lies.”
My father nodded.
“She made a deal.”
“With Victor?”
“Yes.”
“What deal?”
“She promised him access to the ledger.”
I felt sick.
“In exchange for what?”
“Protection.”
“From whom?”
My father's face changed.
“The organization.”
Agent Reed stepped forward.
“What organization?”
My father looked at her.
“It's called The Harbor.”
Trevor frowned.
“What?”
“It is not a company.”
“Then what is it?”
“A network.”
“For what?”
“Money laundering. Smuggling. Extortion. Identity fraud.”
Agent Reed's eyes narrowed.
“How long?”
“Decades.”
“And Daniel Rowe?”
“He tried to leave.”
My father stared at the floor.
“They killed him.”
“And my grandfather?”
“He betrayed them.”
“So they killed him too?”
“No.”
My father's voice lowered.
“He betrayed them, then disappeared.”
I stared.
“My grandfather isn't dead?”
“He died six months ago.”
I frowned.
“But he died twelve years ago.”
My father looked at me.
“The funeral wasn't him.”
Silence.
I couldn't speak.
“What?”
“They buried someone else.”
My entire world tilted.
“Why?”
“To convince The Harbor that the ledger was gone.”
“And where was Grandpa?”
“Hidden.”
“Where?”
My father shook his head.
“I don't know.”
Agent Reed stepped closer.
“Then who did you bury?”
My father looked at her.
“Samuel Cross.”
My blood ran cold.
The missing informant.
My father.
The man in the photograph.
Everything twisted together.
“Then who is my father?”
He looked at me.
“Robert Bennett died twenty-four years ago.”
I stared at him.
“You're not my father?”
He closed his eyes.
“I am.”
“Then who was Robert Bennett?”
“A man whose identity I took.”
“Why?”
“To survive.”
I backed away.
“You lied to me my entire life.”
“Yes.”
“You let me believe I had a normal family.”
“Yes.”
“You let Mom choose Khloe over me.”
He looked devastated.
“I thought distance would keep you alive.”
“Distance?”
I pointed toward the marina.
“Thirty-seven empty chairs isn't distance.”
“It was protection.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“It was cruelty.”
My father began crying.
Then he said:
“There is one more thing.”
I waited.
“The ledger isn't at the marina.”
“Where is it?”
He looked at me.
“You already have it.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“Your wedding.”
My heart stopped.
“What does my wedding have to do with the ledger?”
“The ring.”
I looked at my hand.
My wedding ring.
Simple silver.
Trevor had chosen it because I hated extravagant jewelry.
My father whispered:
“Your grandfather hid the key inside your ring.”
I stared at Trevor.
He looked equally stunned.
“That's impossible.”
My father shook his head.
“No.”
He stood.
“Look inside.”
Trevor took the ring from my hand carefully.
Under the inner band was a tiny engraving.
A triangle.
And beneath it:
D.R.
Trevor's face changed.
Daniel Rowe.
My wedding ring was not just a wedding ring.
It was a key.
Agent Reed took a microscope.
Inside the band was a tiny compartment.
And inside that compartment was a microfilm strip.
She stared at it.
“Where did you get this ring?”
Trevor answered.
“An antique dealer.”
My father froze.
“What antique dealer?”
Trevor gave the name.
My father's face went white.
“That man died ten years ago.”
Trevor looked at him.
“No.”
“What?”
“I spoke to him six months ago.”
My father stepped back.
“That means he wasn't the dealer.”
“Then who was he?”
My father whispered:
“Someone from The Harbor.”
Then the lights went out.
Gunshots exploded outside.
The windows shattered.
Someone screamed.
Agent Reed pulled me to the floor.
Trevor covered me.
My father shouted:
“Get the ring!”
A voice came from outside.
Calm.
Almost amused.
“Too late.”
Then the front door exploded inward.
A shadow stepped through the smoke.
And I recognized him.
The man from the photograph.
The man Agent Reed said was dead.
Samuel Cross.
May you like
He looked directly at me.
And smiled.
