The Three Daughters Who Remembered Their Mother's Murder

For several seconds, I couldn't hear the ocean.

I couldn't hear the wind rattling the lighthouse windows or Ethan breathing beside me.

All I could hear was my father's voice.

The other one is the man who murdered your wife.

I kept my pistol trained on him.

"Explain.""

My father lowered himself onto the wooden bench. His six-fingered left hand trembled against his knee.

"Thomas Hale had another son before Vincent. His name was Adrian.""

"Another brother?""

"Yes. Adrian was older than Vincent by four years. He disappeared when he was seventeen after an argument with Thomas. We believed he had died.""

Ethan stepped forward.

"Then how do you know he's alive?""

My father looked at him.

"Because I saw him two weeks ago.""

My grip tightened around the gun.

"Where?""

"At the clinic in Switzerland.""

"The clinic where Isabelle is being held?""

He nodded.

I wanted to strike him. I wanted to demand why he'd allowed Vincent to manipulate me for eighteen years, why he'd hidden my parentage, why he'd let me bury a woman who wasn't my wife.

Instead, I asked the only question that mattered.

"Did Adrian kill Isabelle?""

My father closed his eyes.

"Yes.""

Ethan swore under his breath.

I lowered the pistol slightly, trying to understand the shape of the betrayal.

Vincent had manipulated Mara into shooting Isabelle, but according to Claire, the bullet hadn't killed her. Someone had taken Isabelle away afterward. Someone had arranged the false funeral. Someone had ensured the girls believed their mother was gone.

Adrian.

"Why would he do it?"" I asked.

"Because Isabelle discovered who he was.""

My father reached into his coat and produced a second photograph.

It showed a younger man standing beside Vincent. They had the same dark eyes and the same sharp jawline. The younger man wore a silver ring engraved with a hawk.

The same ring seen in the crime-scene photograph.

"Adrian and Vincent worked together for years," my father explained.

"Adrian handled the operations that required violence. Vincent handled the money, the records, and the people who needed to disappear.""

"And you knew?""

"I suspected.""

"You suspected?"" I stepped closer.

"You watched them build a criminal network around my family, and you merely suspected?""

My father flinched.

"I thought I could control them.""

"That's what you told yourself when you gave Vincent the company shares. That's what you told yourself when you helped hide my son. That's what you told yourself when my wife disappeared.""

He looked down.

"Yes.""

The single word was worse than any excuse.

Ethan moved toward the door.

"We're going to Switzerland.""

My father shook his head.

"You can't go there without understanding what you're walking into. The clinic is a private facility owned by a company connected to Vincent. The security staff won't let you near Isabelle.""

"Then we'll find another way.""

"There's more."" My father looked at me.

"Adrian has been impersonating me for years. He used my identity to influence your business decisions and keep Vincent's operations protected.""

I remembered the telephone call at the chapel.

The man who had claimed to be my father had sounded familiar, but something about his voice had felt wrong.

"Who called me?""

"Adrian.""

I stared at the photograph.

"He wanted me to believe he was you.""

"Yes. He knew you'd eventually discover the truth. He wanted to make sure you blamed me instead of him.""

My father pulled a small envelope from his pocket.

Inside was a passport bearing his real name, a photograph of Adrian, and a handwritten note.

If Dominic comes looking for Isabelle, let him come. He'll bring the ledger, and we'll finally have everything we need.

The note was signed with my name.

My signature.

Someone had forged it again.

"They're expecting me," I said.

My father nodded.

"And they know you'll come.""

Ethan looked at me.

"Then we don't give them what they expect.""

He took the ledger and removed several pages from the back.

"What are you doing?"" I asked.

"Making copies of the evidence. Vincent wants the original because it contains the names of everyone who paid him. But he can't destroy the information if it's already somewhere else.""

He photographed every page and sent the images to Raymond.

Then he turned toward my father.

"Where's Adrian now?""

My father hesitated.

"At the clinic.""

"With Isabelle?""

"Yes.""

A phone vibrated in my pocket.

An unknown number.

I answered.

"Dominic Romano," I said.

A man laughed softly.

"Hello, little brother.""

I recognized the voice from the chapel.

Adrian.

"Where's my wife?""

"Alive. Although she's becoming difficult.""

"If you've hurt her—"

"Please. You sound just like Thomas. Always making threats before you understand the situation.""

I gripped the phone.

"What do you want?""

"The ledger. The original. Bring it to the clinic tomorrow night.""

"And if I don't?""

"You'll never see Isabelle again.""

I heard movement in the background.

Then a woman's voice.

"Dominic?""

My heart stopped.

"Isabelle?""

"It's me.""

Her voice was weak, but unmistakable.

"Listen to me. Don't bring the ledger. Don't trust anyone who tells you—"

A sharp impact interrupted her.

She gasped.

Adrian returned to the phone.

"Your wife is very emotional. I'll give her something to calm her down.""

"Don't touch her!""

He chuckled.

"Tomorrow night. Bring the ledger, and come alone.""

The call ended.

I stood motionless, staring at the screen.

Ethan put a hand on my shoulder.

"We'll get her back.""

I looked at my son.

For twenty-six years, I'd believed my family had abandoned me one person at a time. Now I understood that powerful men had been deciding which parts of my life I was allowed to know.

I had lost my wife to their secrets.

I had lost my son to their lies.

I would not lose Isabelle again.

I turned toward my father.

"You're coming with us.""

He nodded.

"I expected that.""

"And if you lie to me one more time, I will hand every piece of evidence to the authorities, including the parts that implicate you.""

My father bowed his head.

"You should.""

We left the lighthouse shortly before dawn.

By sunrise, Ethan had arranged transport to Switzerland, Raymond had secured copies of the ledger, and my father had given us the names of three men inside the clinic who might help us reach Isabelle.

But as our plane prepared to depart, a message appeared on my phone.

It contained a photograph of Olivia, Sophie, and Nora asleep in their hotel room.

Beneath it were eight words.

Your daughters are with us now, Dominic.

I looked at Ethan.

Then I called Raymond.

He answered immediately.

"Sir?""

"Where are my girls?""

Silence.

Then Raymond whispered, "They were taken twenty minutes ago.""

A second message arrived.