Chapter 8 - THE PRICE OF EMILY’S BLOODAdrian tore a fire extinguisher from the wall.
Emily heard nothing for several seconds except a high-pitched ringing.
Smoke filled the cottage.
Helena dragged Emily behind the stone fireplace.
Adrian crawled toward them.
Outside, gunfire continued.
Raphael’s men joined Vale security from the north tree line.
Gabriel shouted through his radio.
“Three vehicles! Roadside!”
Adrian grabbed Emily.
“Can you move?”
“Yes.”
“You’re bleeding.”
Her reopened wound stained her sweater.
“I’ve had worse this week.”
Even Helena laughed at that.
They escaped through the cottage’s rear cellar.
An underground tunnel led toward an old boathouse.
Helena had built it years earlier.
“You expected this?” Emily asked.
“I’ve spent twenty-seven years expecting this.”
At the boathouse, Raphael appeared.
Helena stopped.
Raphael stopped.
Their eyes met.
“Helena.”
She walked toward him.
Then slapped him.
Hard.
Emily blinked.
Raphael touched his cheek.
“That seems fair.”
“You told me you were dead.”
“I was nearly dead.”
“You let me believe it for eighteen years.”
“You vanished first.”
“I was protecting Emily.”
“So was I.”
She slapped him again.
Raphael nodded.
“That one may have been less fair.”
Despite the gun battle behind them, Emily almost smiled.
Adrian stared at his sister.
“You really are alive.”
Helena turned.
“So are you.”
For the first time, Adrian looked seventeen again.
Not a billionaire.
Not a feared man.
A younger brother abandoned without explanation.
“You left me with him.”
Helena’s face fell.
“I know.”
“With Dad.”
“I know.”
“You knew what he was.”
“I was twenty-four and running for my life.”
“You could have taken me.”
“I tried.”
Adrian froze.
“What?”
Helena stepped closer.
“Vincent threatened to kill you if I returned.”
Adrian’s anger faltered.
“He told me you hated me.”
Helena began crying.
“I never hated you.”
They stood silently.
Then Adrian pulled her into his arms.
Emily looked away, giving them the privacy twenty-seven years had stolen.
The attackers withdrew after losing four men.
One captured mercenary talked.
Samuel Vale was in New York.
Not Europe.
Not South America.
Manhattan.
And he had one final move planned.
Three days later, Vale Holdings would hold an emergency board session.
Emily’s inheritance claim had triggered ownership provisions involving Vale-Serrano port interests.
Samuel intended to seize the companies legally before Emily could establish her identity.
Helena placed several documents on the table.
“Samuel needs board approval.”
Adrian studied them.
“He has five directors.”
“Six.”
Adrian looked up.
“Who?”
Helena tapped a name.
Gabriel Knox.
Everyone turned.
Gabriel stared at the paper.
“That’s impossible.”
Helena explained.
“Samuel holds an old proxy signed by your father.”
Gabriel’s face hardened.
“My father died when I was fourteen.”
“He owed Samuel money.”
Adrian looked at his closest friend.
Gabriel whispered, “I didn’t know.”
Adrian believed him.
But the proxy could force Gabriel’s family-owned shares into Samuel’s voting bloc.
Unless challenged before the meeting.
Emily looked around.
“So we walk into the board meeting with everything.”
Helena shook her head.
“Not everything.”
She removed a tiny brass key from her necklace.
“Mateo hid the original evidence in a safe-deposit vault.”
Raphael leaned forward.
“Where?”
“Manhattan.”
“Which bank?”
Helena smiled faintly.
“The bank Samuel owns.”
Adrian and Emily entered the bank the next afternoon disguised as ordinary clients.
Emily wore a brown wig.
Adrian hated baseball caps.
“You look ridiculous,” Emily whispered.
“So do you.”
“My wig is convincing.”
“It’s orange.”
“It was labeled auburn.”
“It lied.”
She almost laughed.
Something had changed between them.
Perhaps surviving multiple assassination attempts made arguments about marriage seem less urgent.
Perhaps Emily was beginning to see the man beneath the reputation.
They reached the vault.
Helena’s key opened box 417.
Inside:
A ledger.
Three cassette tapes.
A signed confession from Samuel’s former attorney.
And a wedding certificate.
Emily unfolded it.
Helena Vale.
Mateo Serrano.
Legally married.
Emily stared.
“This proves I’m legitimate.”
“Yes.”
“And therefore the heir.”
“Yes.”
She looked at Adrian.
“You realize I might become richer than you.”
“Impossible.”
“Competitive?”
“Realistic.”
“Terrified.”
“Never.”
She smiled.
Then the vault door slammed shut.
Lights went dark.
Emily froze.
“Adrian?”
“I’m here.”
Emergency lights flickered on.
Smoke began entering through the ventilation system.
A speaker crackled overhead.
Samuel’s voice.
“Hello, nephew.”
Adrian stared upward.
Emily whispered, “That’s him?”
Samuel laughed through the speaker.
“I’ve waited a very long time to meet Helena’s daughter.”
Adrian moved toward the vault controls.
Locked.
Samuel continued.
“You both have something I need.”
Emily gripped the ledger.
“The evidence.”
“No.”
Samuel’s voice softened.
“Her blood.”
May you like
Emily went cold.
Gas began pouring into the vault.
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