Chapter 10 - The Truth My Father Buried
I did not answer Celeste.
I could not.
Because every answer I had ever believed was collapsing at the same time.
My father.
My brother.
My family.
The woman I loved.
Everyone was connected to the same night.
Pier 44.
Six years ago.
The night that changed everything.
The night I spent my entire life trying to understand.
And now I was standing in the snow, listening to the woman I was supposed to marry tell me that my own father had ordered the meeting that killed my brother.
“No.”
My voice was quiet.
But it carried more anger than shouting ever could.
“You are lying.”
Celeste looked at me.
“I wish I was.”
“You expect me to believe that my father murdered Ewan?”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“I expect you to understand that your father made a choice.”
“A choice?”
I stepped closer.
“He chose to kill his own son.”
Her eyes filled with pain.
“No.”
“Then explain.”
She looked away.
“Your father chose to protect you.”
The words made me stop.
Because they were the exact words everyone used.
Protect.
Protect.
Protect.
A word that had destroyed my family more than any enemy ever could.
“How?”
Celeste swallowed.
“Because Ewan was not only investigating the people stealing from your family.”
“What else?”
“He discovered what your father had done years earlier.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“Your father built the organization to protect the family.”
She paused.
“But somewhere along the way, he made a deal.”
“With who?”
“With people more powerful than him.”
The snow landed on her dark hair.
“He thought he could control them.”
“He was wrong.”
I looked toward the estate.
My mother.
My father’s memory.
Everything I knew.
Everything I hated.
“What deal?”
Celeste took a breath.
“A deal that involved your name.”
My eyes narrowed.
“Mine?”
“Yes.”
“Explain.”
“Your father wanted a successor.”
I said nothing.
“He knew the organization could not survive without someone strong enough to lead it.”
“And?”
“He believed you were that person.”
I laughed once.
A bitter sound.
“So he sacrificed Ewan for me?”
Celeste did not answer.
Because she knew the answer hurt more than any words.
---
I returned to my office.
The old photograph of Ewan sat on my desk.
My brother.
The man who believed people could be better.
The man who saved strangers.
The man who trusted too easily.
I wondered if he ever hated me.
Because if my father really made that choice...
If Ewan died because of what I was supposed to become...
Then maybe I was not his brother.
Maybe I was the reason he died.
The door opened.
Matteo entered.
“Boss.”
I did not look up.
“What?”
“We found Adrian Voss.”
My head lifted.
“Where?”
“On the way out of the city.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Bring him here.”
Matteo hesitated.
“He asked to speak with you.”
I stood.
“Then he knows I am coming.”
---
Adrian Voss was sitting in the old warehouse outside Chicago.
The same place where I had questioned Ray Calder.
The same place where people came when their lives were about to change.
Adrian looked different from the man I remembered.
Older.
Tired.
Afraid.
A doctor should not look afraid.
But he did.
“You know who I am.”
I stood across from him.
“I know you lied to my family for years.”
Adrian lowered his eyes.
“I know.”
“You treated my mother.”
“Yes.”
“You told us she could not recover.”
His silence answered.
“You lied.”
“Yes.”
My anger rose.
“Why?”
Adrian looked at me.
“Because if I told the truth, she would have died.”
The room became quiet.
“What?”
“Your mother was awake within weeks after Ewan’s death.”
I froze.
“What?”
“She knew what happened.”
“Then why did she stay silent?”
“Because the people responsible threatened her.”
“Who?”
Adrian looked directly at me.
“Your father.”
I stared.
Again.
The same name.
The same impossible truth.
“No.”
“He was afraid.”
“Afraid of what?”
“That she would tell you.”
I stepped closer.
“Tell me what?”
Adrian took a deep breath.
“Your father did not order Ewan’s death.”
The room stopped.
I looked at him.
“Then why did Celeste say he did?”
“Because she does not know the entire story.”
I hated that sentence.
Everyone knew pieces.
Nobody knew everything.
“What happened at Pier 44?”
Adrian looked down.
“Ewan discovered the ledger.”
“Yes.”
“He planned to expose everyone involved.”
“Yes.”
“Your father found out.”
“Yes.”
“What did he do?”
Adrian closed his eyes.
“He went to Pier 44.”
My hands tightened.
“And?”
“He tried to stop Ewan.”
“Stop him?”
“Convince him.”
I waited.
“He wanted Ewan to disappear.”
The words hit me.
“Disappear?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he believed hiding the truth was the only way to keep you alive.”
I stared.
“And Ewan refused.”
“Yes.”
“What happened next?”
Adrian’s voice became quieter.
“Someone else arrived.”
“Who?”
He looked at me.
“The person who had been controlling everything.”
A pause.
“The person your father was afraid of.”
I waited.
“Who?”
Adrian whispered:
“Vincent Moretti.”
My entire body went still.
My uncle.
The man who raised me.
The man who stood beside me.
The man who taught me everything.
“No.”
Adrian nodded.
“Yes.”
“He killed Ewan?”
“No.”
“Then what did he do?”
Adrian looked at me.
“He locked the doors.”
The room became silent.
“He did not start the fire.”
My breathing slowed.
“He did something worse.”
“What?”
“He made sure nobody could escape.”
---
That night, I returned to the estate.
My mother was awake.
Waiting.
I placed the notebook in front of her.
Then I asked the question I had been avoiding.
“Did Dad kill Ewan?”
Her eyes filled with tears.
Slowly.
Painfully.
She moved her hand.
No.
I froze.
Then she moved again.
No.
Not him.
I stared.
For the first time in years, my mother was trying to save someone.
My father.
I took her hand.
“Then who?”
Her fingers shook.
She reached for the notebook.
Turned to the final page.
And wrote one word.
One name.
The name that destroyed everything.
VINCENT.
I stared at the page.
My uncle.
The man who raised me.
The man who protected me.
The man who told me family was everything.
My phone rang.
Matteo.
I answered.
“Boss.”
His voice was urgent.
“You need to come to the security room.”
“Why?”
A pause.
Then:
“We found the person who has been sending messages from inside the estate.”
I walked toward the door.
“Who?”
Matteo’s voice dropped.
“Your mother.”
I stopped.
“What?”
“The messages were sent from her medical tablet.”
I looked back at my mother.
She looked terrified.
Not guilty.
Terrified.
And suddenly I understood.
Someone had been using my mother’s room.
Someone had been hiding evidence there.
Someone wanted me to believe she was involved.
The war inside my family had begun.
And this time...
May you like
I was not searching for the enemy outside.
I was searching for the enemy sitting at my own table.
