Chapter 8 - The House With No OwnerThe property was thirty miles from the estate.
An abandoned farmhouse.
At least, that's what the records said.
We arrived before midnight.
Police surrounded the perimeter.
I entered with Reed.
The house smelled of dust.
The lights worked.
That meant someone had been there.
On the table was a fresh cup of coffee.
Still warm.
A chair faced the doorway.
On it sat a wedding photograph.
Mine.
Evelyn's face had been scratched out.
Mine had not.
I turned it over.
Three words.
YOU REMEMBER ME.
Then the television turned on.
Victor appeared.
Older than I remembered.
Thin.
Gray-haired.
Smiling.
“I knew you would come.”
Reed raised his weapon.
Victor laughed.
“You cannot shoot a recording.”
It wasn't live.
We realized that immediately.
A recording played across multiple monitors.
Victor explained that the family had been built around one secret.
The original heir never died.
He was hidden.
Raised under another name.
That was me.
I had been moved between schools, cities, and documents so no one could trace my identity.
But Victor had made a mistake.
He had assumed I would remain obedient.
Evelyn had changed that.
She had taught me to question my father.
She had uncovered the truth.
And on our wedding day, she refused to cooperate.
Victor showed us another recording.
This one was from the wedding chapel.
My younger self stood at the altar.
Waiting.
Guests murmured.
Then Bianca approached me.
She said something.
The audio played.
“She's gone.”
I remembered that moment.
The shock.
The humiliation.
The whispers.
I remembered Bianca holding my shoulder.
I remembered her saying:
“She never loved you.”
But the video revealed what happened next.
Bianca walked into the bridal suite.
She opened the hidden panel.
Evelyn was inside.
Alive.
Then Bianca crouched.
They talked.
Evelyn handed her something.
A small envelope.
Bianca hid it inside her dress.
Then the room door opened.
My father entered.
Bianca stood.
And Evelyn whispered:
“Nathan is coming.”
My father looked at Bianca.
“She must disappear tonight.”
Bianca hesitated.
Then said:
“I can't do this.”
My father slapped her.
That was the moment I realized Bianca had not been the mastermind.
She had been trapped in the machine.
But that didn't absolve her.
She still lied.
She still participated.
She still watched me suffer.
Victor's recording continued.
“Your father believed fear would protect his empire.”
He smiled.
“He was wrong.”
Then the farmhouse doors locked.
A gas hissed from the vents.
Reed shouted:
“Everybody out!”
We ran.
The front door wouldn't open.
Windows were reinforced.
Evelyn screamed.
I found a basement door.
We forced it open.
Inside was a ventilation tunnel.
We crawled through darkness.
Behind us, the farmhouse ignited.
Fire.
Heat.
Smoke.
We emerged in a field.
Police evacuated us.
I turned back.
The farmhouse burned.
Reed approached.
“This was a trap.”
“Yes.”
“And Victor wanted you dead.”
I looked at the flames.
“No.”
“What?”
“He wanted us to find something.”
Reed frowned.
I remembered the coffee.
The photograph.
The message.
He hadn't needed to lure us there.
He wanted to guide us.
We returned to the ruins.
Under the kitchen floor, police found a steel container.
Inside was a file.
The original company records.
And one birth certificate.
Mine.
It listed my name as Adrian Vale.
Mother: Margaret Vale.
Father: Richard Vale.
But there was a note handwritten across the bottom.
THE WRONG SON SURVIVED.
Evelyn read it.
She went pale.
“What?”
She pointed at the paper.
“There were two children.”
“Yes.”
“But you weren't supposed to survive.”
The room went silent.
“Who was supposed to die?”
She stared at me.
“Both of you.”
I could not breathe.
Then Reed opened the final document.
It was a death certificate.
For Adrian Vale.
But the date was wrong.
It was issued…
two years before I was born.
Someone had been preparing my death certificate before my birth.
Reed whispered:
“This goes beyond fraud.”
Evelyn grabbed my hand.
“There is something else.”
“What?”
She looked terrified.
“I remembered where I saw Victor before the wedding.”
“Where?”
She pointed toward the estate.
“In your mother's room.”
“She never told you?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because your mother wasn't dead when we got married.”
I stared at her.
May you like
Evelyn whispered:
“She disappeared the same night I did.”
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