Chapter 5 - The Sister Who Knew Too MuchVictor was supposed to be overseas.
He wasn't.
Police searched the estate.
No Victor.
They searched the chapel.
No Victor.
Then Anna found blood near the eastern staircase.
Fresh blood.
A trail disappeared behind a painting.
Reed pulled the frame from the wall.
A hidden corridor opened.
We followed it.
At the end was a room containing monitors.
Dozens of them.
Every camera in the house was connected.
The bridal suite.
The kitchen.
The library.
My office.
My bedroom.
Even the greenhouse.
Someone had watched us for years.
Reed pointed toward a screen.
It showed Evelyn beneath the floor.
Her face appeared on the monitor.
She was younger.
Healthy.
Alive.
The timestamp was from two weeks after her disappearance.
Another screen showed her screaming.
Another showed Bianca entering the chamber.
Another showed me sitting alone in the wedding hall.
I couldn't look away.
For three years, someone had recorded my grief.
I saw myself crying.
Sleeping on the sofa.
Drinking.
Destroying wedding photographs.
Every private moment.
Every breakdown.
Recorded.
Cataloged.
Stored.
Then another screen caught my attention.
It showed Bianca standing outside Evelyn's hidden room.
Victor stood beside her.
I leaned closer.
The recording had no sound.
But Bianca was holding a stack of documents.
Victor pointed at them.
Bianca shook her head.
Then Victor slapped her.
She stumbled.
He pointed toward the room.
Bianca looked inside.
She was crying.
She said something.
Then Victor took the documents from her.
Reed paused the recording.
“There's more.”
He switched to another date.
Six months later.
Bianca entered alone.
She sat outside Evelyn's door.
For nearly an hour.
She didn't say anything.
Then she placed a small box beside the door.
She opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
Our wedding photograph.
She stared at it.
Then she began crying.
She whispered something.
The audio had been disabled.
“What was she saying?” I asked.
Reed enhanced the recording.
Static.
Then one phrase became audible.
“I'm sorry.”
I looked at Bianca.
She was sitting in the hallway now.
Handcuffed.
Her face was empty.
“You heard her,” she said.
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“For three years.”
“Yes.”
“You watched her.”
Bianca closed her eyes.
“I didn't build the room.”
“You protected it.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
She looked at me.
“Because if I told you the truth, Victor would kill her.”
“Who is Victor?”
“My father's partner.”
I stared.
“Partner in what?”
Bianca shook her head.
“You have to understand. Your father wasn't the beginning.”
“What wasn't?”
“The company.”
“That's not an answer.”
She leaned toward me.
“Your family business was built on stolen identities.”
Reed frowned.
“Explain.”
Bianca swallowed.
My father had inherited nothing.
He had stolen everything.
The original founder of the company had two children.
One disappeared.
The other died under suspicious circumstances.
My father had forged ownership records.
He took control.
Then he created shell companies.
Moved money.
Eliminated witnesses.
Over decades, the family became powerful enough to make problems disappear.
But Evelyn had discovered the original records.
Records proving the company never belonged to us.
“Where is the original ledger?” I asked.
Bianca shook her head.
“I don't know.”
Evelyn spoke.
“I do.”
Everyone turned.
She was holding the old wedding ring.
She rotated it slowly.
“There was a second compartment.”
I looked at her.
“In what?”
“The ring.”
She twisted the band.
A tiny panel opened.
Inside was a folded strip of paper.
She handed it to me.
It contained coordinates.
No explanation.
Reed typed them into his phone.
His expression changed.
“That's not far.”
“Where?”
He looked at me.
“The family cemetery.”
That night we went there.
The coordinates led to my father's grave.
But nothing was buried there.
The marker had been disturbed.
We dug.
Beneath the coffin was another metal box.
Inside was the original ledger.
And beneath it…
a photograph of me as a child.
Standing beside my father.
With another boy.
A boy who looked almost exactly like me.
I stared at the photograph.
“Who is that?”
Bianca looked at it.
Her voice became a whisper.
“Your brother.”
“I don't have a brother.”
She looked at me.
“You did.”
“Where is he?”
Bianca's eyes filled with tears.
“Victor killed him.”
I stared at the photograph.
Then noticed a date written on the back.
The date was twenty-six years earlier.
And beneath it was a name.
Nathan Vale.
My own name.
I turned toward Bianca.
“Then who am I?”
She didn't answer.
May you like
Because behind us…
someone fired a gun.
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