Chapter 9 - What Celeste Had Been Hiding
The iron door opened.
Dominic stepped forward.
Then stopped.
Beyond it was not a vault.
It was a room.
A small room.
Clean.
Warm.
Lit by a single lamp.
And on the wall were photographs.
Hundreds of them.
Dominic walked inside.
Mara's face appeared everywhere.
Mara as a child.
Mara at ten.
Mara at sixteen.
Mara on her wedding day.
Mara leaving the Vascari penthouse eight months earlier.
Mara sitting in the hospital parking lot.
Mara sleeping.
Dominic's stomach turned.
Someone had been watching her for years.
Cole stood behind him.
“You understand now.”
Dominic turned.
“How long?”
“Since she was born.”
“Who?”
Cole looked at the photographs.
“Your father.”
Dominic stared at the walls.
“My father watched Mara?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he was afraid she would discover who she was.”
Dominic walked toward a desk.
A file sat on top.
MARA ARDEN.
He opened it.
Inside were copies of school records.
Medical records.
Travel documents.
Photographs.
Everything.
But one page caught his attention.
A birth certificate.
Not the one Mara had known.
This one carried a different name.
MARA VICTORIA ARDEN.
Dominic stared.
Cole said nothing.
“She was Victor Arden's daughter.”
“Yes.”
“My father's enemy.”
“Yes.”
Dominic flipped the page.
There was another document.
A marriage record.
Victor Arden.
And Mara's mother.
Dominic's eyes narrowed.
His father had known.
He had known Mara's entire identity.
He had watched her grow up.
And somehow, years later, Dominic had married her.
“What was my father planning?”
Cole's voice was quiet.
“He wanted to use her.”
“For what?”
“To control Victor.”
Dominic's expression darkened.
“But Victor disappeared.”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Before Mara turned one.”
“Who killed him?”
Cole looked away.
“Your father.”
Dominic went still.
“You're sure?”
“I was there.”
The room seemed to shrink.
“You watched him kill Victor?”
“No.”
Cole swallowed.
“I watched your father order it.”
Dominic closed his eyes.
For years he had believed his father's violence was limited to business.
He had been wrong.
“How did Mara survive?”
“Your mother took her.”
“From my father?”
“Yes.”
“Then the fire?”
“Was staged.”
Dominic opened his eyes.
“To erase the records.”
Cole nodded.
“Your mother changed Mara's name.”
“And the birth date.”
“Yes.”
“She raised her alone?”
“For six years.”
“What happened after that?”
Cole looked at the floor.
“She disappeared.”
Dominic's voice hardened.
“Because my father found her.”
“Yes.”
“What happened to Mara?”
“Your father arranged for her to be placed with another family.”
Dominic's face changed.
“You're saying she grew up believing strangers were her parents?”
“Yes.”
“And nobody told her?”
“No.”
Dominic looked at the photographs again.
One showed Mara at six.
Another at twelve.
Another at eighteen.
Each year documented.
Each year watched.
“Who took these?”
Cole hesitated.
“Your father.”
Dominic turned.
“And who kept them?”
Cole didn't answer.
Dominic's eyes narrowed.
“Who?”
“Celeste.”
Silence.
Mara's voice came from behind them.
“Why would Celeste have them?”
Dominic turned.
Mara stood in the doorway.
She was pale.
Her hospital gown was covered by a coat someone had given her.
She looked fragile.
But her eyes were steady.
Cole looked shocked.
“You shouldn't be here.”
Mara ignored him.
She walked toward the desk.
Her eyes moved across the photographs.
Then stopped.
One showed her mother holding her.
Mara touched the glass covering it.
“She never abandoned me.”
Cole lowered his head.
“No.”
Mara turned.
“You lied.”
“I was protecting you.”
“You let me believe she chose to leave.”
“I was following her instructions.”
“Then tell me the truth now.”
Cole said nothing.
Mara's voice became stronger.
“What happened to my mother?”
Cole finally answered.
“She died.”
Mara's face crumpled.
“When?”
“Twenty-three years ago.”
“How?”
“Your father's men found her.”
Mara closed her eyes.
Dominic stepped closer.
“Mara.”
She shook her head.
“Don't.”
He stopped.
She wiped her tears.
“My entire life was a lie.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
She looked around the room.
“Every birthday. Every school record. Every photograph.”
Her voice cracked.
“Everything.”
Dominic took a step toward her.
“I didn't know.”
“I know.”
“I swear.”
“I know.”
She looked at him.
“That doesn't make it hurt less.”
Dominic nodded.
“I know.”
Mara turned toward Cole.
“Why did Celeste keep these files?”
Cole looked terrified.
“Because she was searching for something.”
“What?”
“Proof.”
“Proof of what?”
“That Dominic wasn't the first heir.”
Mara frowned.
“What?”
Cole pointed toward a file.
“Your father had another son.”
Dominic stiffened.
“My brother.”
“No.”
Cole shook his head.
“Not the brother you were told about.”
Dominic stared.
“How many sons did my father have?”
“Three.”
Mara's eyes widened.
“Three?”
“Yes.”
Cole opened another folder.
Inside were three birth records.
One for Dominic.
One for the missing twin.
And one with the name blacked out.
Dominic stared.
“Who is the third?”
Cole's voice dropped.
“Your father's illegitimate son.”
Dominic felt a coldness spread through him.
“Where is he?”
“He grew up under another name.”
“What name?”
Cole looked at Mara.
“Arden.”
Mara froze.
“No.”
Dominic turned.
“What?”
Cole continued.
“Victor Arden had a son.”
Mara whispered,
“You said Victor was my father.”
“He was.”
“Then how can he have another son?”
Cole looked at Dominic.
“Because Victor was also your father's brother.”
Dominic's expression changed.
“The third heir is Victor's son.”
“Yes.”
Mara shook her head.
“That doesn't explain anything.”
“It explains Celeste.”
Dominic stared.
“What about her?”
“Celeste isn't Victor's only child.”
Mara's face went pale.
Cole opened the final file.
A photograph slipped out.
A young Victor stood beside two children.
A boy.
A girl.
The girl was Celeste.
The boy was older.
Dark-haired.
Serious.
And wearing the same silver watch Dominic had seen on the man beside Celeste.
Dominic stared at the photograph.
“That man.”
Cole nodded.
“Your father's third son.”
Dominic's voice became barely audible.
“His name.”
Cole hesitated.
Then said,
“Adrian Arden.”
Dominic's blood ran cold.
“Dr. Adrian Cole?”
Cole looked at him.
“No.”
He pointed to the photograph.
“Adrian Arden.”
Dominic stared.
“Then who is Dr. Cole?”
The doctor said nothing.
Mara looked at him.
“Who are you?”
Cole closed his eyes.
“My name isn't Adrian Cole.”
Dominic stepped forward.
“Then who are you?”
The doctor reached inside his coat.
Dominic immediately raised his weapon.
“Don't.”
Cole stopped.
Slowly, he removed a small identification card.
He handed it to Dominic.
Dominic looked down.
The name on the card made his expression change.
MICHAEL ARDEN.
Mara stared.
“Arden?”
Cole nodded.
“I was Victor's younger brother.”
Dominic's gun lowered slightly.
“You're my uncle.”
“Yes.”
Mara looked at him.
“And you knew everything.”
“Yes.”
“Why did you help my mother?”
“Because I promised her.”
“What promise?”
Michael's eyes filled with tears.
“That I would protect her daughter.”
Mara swallowed.
“From my father?”
“From your grandfather.”
Dominic frowned.
“My grandfather?”
Michael nodded.
“Your father's father was the real architect.”
Dominic stared.
“He was dead before I was born.”
“That's what everyone believed.”
Mara's eyes widened.
“Is he alive?”
Michael didn't answer.
Dominic stepped closer.
“Is my grandfather alive?”
Michael looked toward the door.
“He was.”
The room fell silent.
Dominic's phone vibrated.
A message appeared.
Unknown number.
A photograph.
Mara's newborn daughter.
She was lying in a white crib.
Beside her stood Celeste.
And behind Celeste stood an elderly man.
Dominic stared.
Michael's face went completely white.
“No.”
Mara looked at him.
“You know him.”
Michael's lips trembled.
“That's impossible.”
“Who is he?”
Michael didn't answer.
Dominic grabbed his shoulder.
“Who?”
Michael finally whispered,
“Your grandfather.”
Dominic's phone vibrated again.
A second message appeared.
COME TO THE ESTATE BEFORE MIDNIGHT.
Then another.
BRING MARA.
A final photograph appeared.
It showed Celeste holding the baby.
The elderly man stood beside her.
And in his hand was a document.
At the bottom was a signature.
Dominic zoomed in.
His face drained of color.
The signature belonged to his father.
But beneath it was a second signature.
One that had been dated only three days earlier.
Michael saw it.
His knees nearly gave way.
“That's his signature.”
Dominic stared.
“Whose?”
Michael looked toward the photograph.
“The man who was supposed to have died twenty-nine years ago.”
The lights suddenly went out.
Then the estate's security alarm appeared on Dominic's phone.
One word flashed across the screen:
May you like
BREACH.
And from somewhere inside the hidden room, a woman's voice whispered Mara's childhood name…
