Chapter 6 - THE SECRET BENEATH ROSE’S HOUSEThey flew to Cleveland before dawn.
Older.
Broader.
Gray at his temples.
A scar ran from his eyebrow to his jaw.
He descended slowly, accompanied by armed men.
Emily stared.
“Who are you?”
The stranger looked at her with something disturbingly close to affection.
“Your uncle.”
Adrian raised his weapon.
“Raphael Serrano.”
The man smiled.
“Adrian Vale.”
Emily looked between them.
“I thought Raphael Serrano was dead.”
“So did most sensible people,” Raphael said.
Adrian stepped in front of Emily.
“She isn’t going anywhere with you.”
Raphael’s smile faded.
“You married my niece while she was unconscious.”
Emily muttered, “Finally, someone agrees that was strange.”
Adrian ignored her.
Raphael continued.
“You’ve had her for three days.”
“Protected her.”
“Controlled her.”
“She was shot.”
“Because your family brought war to that gala.”
Adrian’s eyes narrowed.
“My family?”
Raphael laughed softly.
“You really don’t know.”
Margaret stepped between them.
“Enough.”
Both men looked at her.
“The person hunting Emily wants exactly this. Vale and Serrano pointing guns at each other while the real enemy remains invisible.”
Emily pushed Adrian’s arm down.
“I’m tired of everyone speaking around me.”
Raphael looked at her.
“Then ask.”
“My father. Mateo. What happened?”
Pain crossed Raphael’s face.
“He was murdered.”
“By whom?”
“Vincent Vale.”
Adrian interrupted.
“That’s not proven.”
Raphael’s men raised their weapons.
Adrian’s security responded.
Emily shouted.
“STOP!”
The church fell silent.
She looked at Raphael.
“Proof.”
Raphael reached into his coat.
Adrian aimed immediately.
Raphael slowly removed a small envelope.
Inside was a photograph.
Helena.
Mateo.
A newborn baby.
Emily.
She recognized the blanket.
Rose had kept it in a cedar box her entire life.
Emily touched the image.
“That’s me.”
Raphael nodded.
“Three days after you were born.”
“Where?”
“Montreal.”
“Why?”
“Your parents were hiding.”
“From Vincent?”
“And others.”
Emily looked at Adrian.
“You knew none of this?”
“No.”
Raphael gave a bitter laugh.
“Of course he didn’t. Vincent trained his son to inherit power, not truth.”
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
Emily turned back.
“What happened to Mateo?”
Raphael looked toward the altar.
“Twenty-six years ago, your father planned to reveal evidence proving that Vincent Vale and three allied businessmen were laundering money through charities and city development projects. Helena had documents. Mateo had recordings.”
“And?”
“They scheduled a meeting with federal investigators.”
Margaret whispered, “They never reached it.”
Raphael continued.
“Their car exploded.”
Emily closed her eyes.
“Mateo died?”
“Yes.”
“Helena?”
“Survived.”
Emily looked at Margaret.
“She gave me to Rose.”
“Yes.”
“Then disappeared.”
“To protect you.”
A tear slid down Emily’s face.
“Twenty-six years is a long time to protect someone without saying hello.”
Raphael looked almost ashamed.
“She watched you.”
Emily’s head lifted.
“What?”
“From a distance.”
“Birthdays?”
“Yes.”
“Graduation?”
“Yes.”
“My mother—Rose—when she got cancer?”
Raphael nodded.
“Helena paid the hospital anonymously.”
Emily’s knees weakened.
Adrian caught her.
She immediately pushed him away.
“I’m fine.”
She wasn’t.
But she needed one thing more.
“Take me to her.”
Raphael shook his head.
“Not yet.”
Emily laughed in disbelief.
“You too?”
“It isn’t safe.”
“I took seven bullets. My definition of safe has changed.”
Raphael looked at Adrian.
“Perhaps she really is both families.”
They left the church under an uneasy temporary truce.
Raphael agreed to provide proof.
Adrian agreed not to shoot him.
Emily agreed to stop threatening both men with her cane.
For now.
Back at Vale House, Raphael produced records hidden for decades.
Bank transactions.
Photographs.
Audio tapes.
One name appeared repeatedly.
Samuel Vale.
Adrian’s uncle.
Vincent’s younger brother.
Adrian stared at the page.
“Samuel died fifteen years ago.”
Raphael shook his head.
“No.”
Adrian looked up.
“His plane crashed.”
“The plane crashed.”
Emily understood.
“But Samuel wasn’t on it.”
Raphael nodded.
“He has been controlling pieces of both families from overseas ever since.”
Adrian stood.
“That’s impossible.”
Margaret spoke quietly.
“Samuel arranged Mateo’s murder.”
Raphael’s voice hardened.
“He also convinced Vincent that Helena betrayed the Vale family.”
Emily looked at Adrian.
“Why?”
“Money,” Raphael answered. “Control. Samuel wanted Vincent isolated. Mateo dead. Helena silent. Then he planned to absorb the Serrano assets after Raphael died.”
“But Raphael didn’t die.”
“No.”
“So Samuel waited?”
“He built businesses through proxies.”
Adrian suddenly saw it.
The accountant.
The gala.
The hospital attack.
Samuel had spent decades placing people.
“What does Emily have that Samuel needs?” Adrian asked.
Raphael smiled without humor.
“The one thing he can’t forge.”
Emily frowned.
“My DNA.”
“Exactly.”
A trust created by Mateo’s grandfather controlled major Serrano shipping holdings.
Only a direct descendant could unlock them.
Emily.
If she died without formally claiming them, the controlling interests would pass through complicated provisions Samuel had quietly positioned himself to acquire.
Emily sat back.
“So someone wants me dead because I’m worth more dead than alive.”
Adrian looked at her.
“To Samuel.”
She glanced at the gold ring.
“And the marriage?”
“Complicates the succession.”
Raphael looked almost amused.
“Your ridiculous stunt may have accidentally saved her inheritance.”
Emily pointed at Adrian.
“Do not encourage him.”
For the first time, Adrian actually smiled.
Then every phone in the room vibrated simultaneously.
Gabriel checked his.
His expression changed.
“What?”
He turned the screen.
A live news broadcast showed police vehicles outside Rose Carter’s old home in Cleveland.
Headline:
HUMAN REMAINS DISCOVERED DURING RENOVATION.
Emily stood too quickly.
Pain hit.
Adrian steadied her.
The reporter continued.
“Authorities believe the remains may have been hidden for more than two decades.”
Emily stared.
Then the camera showed investigators carrying out a metal box.
Margaret gasped.
Raphael whispered, “No.”
Emily looked at him.
“What?”
May you like
Raphael’s face had gone pale.
“That box belonged to Helena.”
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