Chapter 8: The Price of a Family Reunion
The first gunshot shattered the silence.
Marco pushed Rose behind the wall.
Adrian grabbed my hand.
"Down!""
We dropped to the floor as bullets tore through the wooden door.
Thomas crawled toward the old desk.
"There's a service passage behind the wardrobe!""
Adrian looked at him.
"How do you know?""
"I built this place.""
Another shot struck the door.
Marco returned fire.
"Boss, we've got at least six men downstairs!""
Adrian pulled me toward the wardrobe.
"Get inside.""
I shook my head.
"I'm not leaving you.""
"Wren, move!""
Thomas pushed a hidden panel.
Behind it was a narrow staircase leading downward.
Rose helped him through.
I followed, then turned to look at Adrian.
He was still standing in the doorway, firing toward the hallway.
"Adrian!""
He glanced back.
"Go!""
Marco shouted.
"Boss, now!""
Adrian finally retreated.
He slammed the hidden panel behind him.
We descended into darkness.
The passage smelled of damp concrete and rust.
Thomas led us toward a metal door.
When we reached it, he stopped.
"Wait.""
He pressed his hand against the wall and listened.
Above us, footsteps crossed the floor.
A man's voice echoed.
"Search every room. Vincent wants the girl alive.""
My stomach tightened.
Alive.
Not safe.
Not unharmed.
Just alive.
Thomas looked at me.
"Isabella, listen carefully. If anything happens, you need to understand why Vincent wants you.""
I swallowed.
"Because of the inheritance?""
"That's part of it.""
He opened the metal door.
Beyond it was an old underground storage room.
Inside stood several filing cabinets.
Thomas approached one and pulled out a thick folder.
"Your grandfather established a trust before he died. The Whitmore estate wasn't supposed to go to Margaret or Vincent.""
Adrian frowned.
"Then who inherited it?""
Thomas looked at me.
"You did.""
I stared at him.
"What?""
"Your grandfather left everything to you, provided you survived until your twenty-first birthday.""
I felt dizzy.
"But Vincent already took the money.""
"Because he forged your death certificate.""
Thomas opened the folder.
There were copies of bank transfers, legal agreements, and a document bearing my grandfather's signature.
Adrian examined it.
"How much was in the original trust?""
"Almost eight hundred million dollars.""
I sat down heavily.
"Why didn't you tell the authorities?""
Thomas laughed bitterly.
"I did. But Vincent had friends in the police department, the courts, and the banks. Every time I tried to expose him, another piece of evidence disappeared.""
Rose stepped forward.
"That's why I stole the original ledger.""
Thomas turned toward her.
"You did what?""
She opened her handbag and removed a small black notebook.
"Vincent thought I was loyal to him. He never imagined I'd spend years collecting evidence.""
Adrian took the notebook.
"What's inside?""
"Every payment, every fake identity, every person who helped him.""
He flipped through the pages.
Then stopped.
His expression changed.
"Marco.""
Marco looked up.
"What?""
Adrian showed him a page.
A list of names.
Near the bottom was one familiar entry.
MARCO KANE — SECURITY PAYMENTS.
Marco frowned.
"That's impossible.""
Thomas shook his head.
"Vincent created an account in your name when you were a child. He used it to move money without leaving his own signature.""
Marco's face hardened.
"He made me look like part of his operation.""
"Yes," Thomas replied.
Adrian closed the notebook.
"That changes things.""
Before anyone could speak, the metal door behind us rattled.
Someone was trying to open it.
Thomas moved toward a second exit.
"There's another tunnel. It leads to the river.""
We hurried through the storage room.
But as I passed one of the filing cabinets, I noticed an old photograph lying on the floor.
I stopped.
It showed my mother holding a baby.
Behind her stood Vincent.
And beside him was a woman I didn't recognize.
On the back was a handwritten date.
October 14, 2016.
The night of the fire.
I turned the photograph over again.
There was a second line beneath the date.
The replacement child has been delivered.
My stomach dropped.
"Father?""
Thomas turned.
"What is it?""
I handed him the photograph.
He stared at it.
Then his face crumpled.
"Where did you find this?""
"On the floor.""
Thomas looked at Rose.
"Did you know about this?""
Rose shook her head.
"No.""
Adrian took the photograph.
"Who is the replacement child?""
Thomas didn't answer.
He simply stared at the woman standing beside Vincent.
Then he whispered:
"Margaret.""
I frowned.
"What's wrong?""
Thomas looked at me.
"That isn't your mother.""
I felt cold all over.
"What?""
"Your mother died before you were born.""
Adrian stepped forward.
"Then who raised Isabella?""
Thomas swallowed.
"Margaret was her sister. They were identical twins.""
Rose covered her mouth.
Thomas continued.
"After my wife died, Margaret offered to help raise my children. I trusted her. I never imagined she'd help Vincent steal everything.""
I looked at the photograph.
The woman who had held me in my childhood memories was Margaret.
But the woman in the photograph was not the mother I remembered.
"Then who was the woman who carried me out of the fire?""
Thomas closed his eyes.
"That was your real mother.""
My heart pounded.
"She's alive?""
He shook his head.
"No. She died saving you.""
I couldn't breathe.
Adrian stepped toward me.
"Wren...""
I raised my hand.
"Please. I need a minute.""
But there was no time.
The metal door burst open.
A man stepped inside with a gun.
Behind him stood Vincent Kane.
He wore a charcoal suit and a perfectly polished pair of shoes.
He looked at Adrian first.
Then at Marco.
Finally, his eyes settled on me.
"Well," he said pleasantly.
"The missing princess.""
Adrian raised his weapon.
"Stay away from her.""
Vincent smiled.
"Always so protective, nephew.""
Marco stepped forward.
"You're my father.""
Vincent glanced at him.
"Biologically, yes.""
Marco's expression twisted.
"Why did you lie to me?""
Vincent shrugged.
"Because children are easier to control when they believe what they're told.""
Adrian's finger tightened around his weapon.
"You're finished.""
Vincent laughed.
"Not quite.""
He looked at Thomas.
"Tell them what happened to Margaret.""
Thomas said nothing.
Vincent took a folded document from his jacket.
"Your aunt has been dead for ten years.""
He placed it on the cabinet.
"And her death certificate was signed by the man who supposedly saved you.""
I stared at Thomas.
"Father?""
Thomas looked down.
May you like
Vincent smiled.
"Ask him why he never told you that the woman who raised you after the fire was murdered.""
