Chapter 6 - At 11:42 p.m., I stood on the roof of the Carter Hotel.Chicago glittered below me.
Wind whipped through my hair.
I had ignored my father's orders.
Ignored Daniel's warnings.
Ignored every logical thought in my head.
I came because my mother was alive.
And because I needed answers.
“Lena.”
I turned.
Nobody.
Then a man stepped out of the shadows.
Ethan.
My brother.
He looked exactly like the man from the camera.
Older than the photographs.
Scar across his eyebrow.
Same eyes.
Same Carter ring.
I stared at him.
He stared at me.
For a long moment, neither of us spoke.
Then he said:
“You shouldn't have come alone.”
“You told me to.”
He smiled faintly.
“No.”
“What?”
“I didn't send the message.”
Cold crept through my chest.
“Then who did?”
A voice came through the darkness.
“I did.”
My mother stepped into the light.
I stopped breathing.
She looked at me.
And began to cry.
Not dramatically.
Not loudly.
Just one tear.
Then another.
“Lena.”
I couldn't move.
She walked toward me slowly.
I wanted to run to her.
But something stopped me.
Maybe fear.
Maybe anger.
Maybe twenty years of unanswered questions.
“You're alive.”
“Yes.”
“Why did you leave?”
She looked at Ethan.
“Because I was trying to keep both of you alive.”
I stared at Ethan.
“Both?”
He nodded.
“I was taken first.”
“By the Hales?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
My mother looked toward the city.
“The organization behind your father's organization.”
I frowned.
“My father has enemies.”
“He has an enemy who has never been seen.”
Ethan said quietly:
“The man everyone calls The Architect.”
I had heard the name.
A legend.
A ghost.
A person who manipulated rival criminal families from behind shell companies and anonymous intermediaries.
My father never discussed him.
My mother did.
“He created the war between Michael and Victor,” she said.
“Why?”
“To control both sides.”
She reached into her coat.
Pulled out a small black notebook.
“This contains everything.”
I took it.
Before I could open it, headlights appeared below.
My father's convoy.
“He found us,” Ethan said.
My mother looked at me.
“You need to listen carefully.”
“What?”
She grabbed my hands.
“Michael isn't the man you think he is.”
I pulled away.
“He saved me.”
“He did.”
“Then why shouldn't I trust him?”
“Because saving you was only half the reason.”
“What was the other half?”
My mother looked at the hotel entrance.
“Your existence was leverage.”
“For who?”
“Everyone.”
A gunshot cracked.
Ethan shoved me down.
My mother screamed.
More shots.
Security flooded the roof.
My father's men stormed through the doors.
Daniel grabbed me.
“Move!”
“Where's my mother?”
Gone.
Ethan disappeared too.
My father reached me.
“Are you hurt?”
“Where is she?”
He said nothing.
“Where is my mother?”
“Lena…”
“She was here.”
“I know.”
“You knew?”
He stared at me.
“Yes.”
“Then why did you come?”
“To stop you from making the mistake she wanted you to make.”
“What mistake?”
He looked at the notebook in my hands.
“Opening that.”
I froze.
“How do you know about it?”
He said nothing.
I opened the notebook anyway.
The first page contained names.
Michael Carter.
Victor Hale.
Lillian Carter.
Ethan Carter.
And one final name.
LENA HART.
I stared.
“What is Hart?”
My father's face changed.
“Close it.”
“No.”
“Lena.”
“Why is Hart next to my name?”
He stepped closer.
“Because that was your original surname.”
“Whose?”
He whispered:
“Your father.”
I stared at him.
“Victor Hale?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
My father's voice dropped.
“The man who built everything.”
I looked down at the page.
Below my name was a handwritten sentence.
DAUGHTER OF ANTHONY HART.
The Architect.
I looked at my father.
“The Architect is my father?”
My father said nothing.
Then the hotel lights went out.
Total darkness.
A voice echoed from the roof speakers.
“Hello, Lena.”
A man's voice.
Calm.
May you like
Almost gentle.
“I've been waiting twenty years to meet my daughter.”
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