Chapter 3: The Son Nobody Knew
Malcolm could not breathe.
He read the words again, as if they might rearrange themselves into something less impossible.
Malcolm’s son. Hidden.
Eli stepped backward.
“No,” he said. “That’s not true.”
Malcolm turned the photograph over with trembling fingers.
“Your mother’s name?”
Eli’s voice dropped.
“Clara Mercer.”
Malcolm closed his eyes.
The name hit him harder than any accusation.
Clara.
Twenty-three years ago, before the money, before the empire, before Savannah, there had been a woman who believed in him when no one else did.
Then she disappeared.
He had been told she left because she wanted nothing to do with him.
Eli stared at him.
“You knew my mother?”
Malcolm opened his eyes slowly.
“I loved her.”
Savannah laughed under her breath.
“Touching.”
Malcolm turned toward her.
“You knew.”
Savannah’s smile sharpened.
“I found out six months ago. Clara wrote to you before she died. Your staff buried the letters years ago. I simply found them.”
Eli’s hands curled into fists.
“My mother wrote to him?”
Savannah tilted her head.
“She begged him for help. Very dramatic.”
Malcolm’s face went gray.
Eli looked like he had been struck.
His mother had died believing Malcolm abandoned them.
Malcolm had lived believing Clara had chosen to disappear.
And Savannah had found the truth, then decided Eli was a threat.
Not because he wanted money.
Because he was blood.
Because if Malcolm learned the truth, Savannah’s place in the Vane fortune would collapse.
Sheriff Carter stepped forward.
“Savannah Vane, you are under arrest.”
The guards moved toward her.
For one desperate second, Savannah tried to run.
She made it three steps before the sheriff caught her wrist.
Her perfect yellow dress twisted in the wind as the handcuffs closed.
She looked back at Malcolm with hatred in her eyes.
“You would have chosen him over me?”
Malcolm looked at Eli.
Bloodied. Shaking. Alone.
May you like
Then he answered softly.
“I should have chosen him years ago.”
