Chapter 12 - Eight Weeks Before the Wedding
Evelyn’s finger stopped.
It was pointing at Thomas Vale.
Nobody spoke.
Thomas stared at her.
Then at Grant.
Then back at Evelyn.
“No.”
Evelyn’s hand fell to her side.
“Yes.”
Grant felt nothing at first.
Not shock.
Not anger.
Nothing.
His mind simply refused to arrange the words into something real.
Thomas was his biological father.
The man Grant had spent eighteen years believing had betrayed him.
The man he had hated.
The man who called him Mercy.
Thomas stepped backward.
“That’s impossible.”
“You know it isn’t.”
“I never—”
“You did.”
Thomas looked at Margaret.
She was crying.
“You knew?”
Margaret nodded.
Thomas pressed both hands against his head.
“Thirty-nine years?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thirty-nine years?”
Grant finally found his voice.
“Stop.”
Everyone did.
He looked at Evelyn.
“You’re saying Thomas is my biological father.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re my biological mother.”
“Yes.”
“But Margaret and Samuel raised me.”
Evelyn nodded.
Grant looked toward Margaret.
“Why?”
Margaret wiped her face.
“Because Evelyn asked us to.”
Grant laughed bitterly.
“Of course she did.”
“Grant—”
“No. I’m tired of secrets being explained as favors.”
Evelyn stepped forward.
“You deserve the truth.”
“I deserved it thirty-nine years ago.”
“Yes.”
The answer stopped him.
No excuse.
No defense.
Just yes.
Grant looked at Thomas.
“You didn’t know?”
Thomas shook his head.
“I swear.”
Grant studied his face.
For once, he believed him.
Evelyn spoke quietly.
“Thomas and I were together briefly. Adrian introduced us.”
Thomas stared at her.
“You disappeared.”
“Because I discovered I was pregnant.”
“You could have told me.”
“I was going to.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“Your father’s network.”
Thomas went still.
Evelyn continued.
“I was working with Adrian to document it. We discovered that people inside the network had begun watching everyone close to him.”
Thomas whispered, “Including me.”
“Yes.”
“And a baby connected to both families would have been leverage.”
“Yes.”
Grant looked between them.
“So you gave me to Margaret.”
Evelyn nodded.
“Samuel and Margaret had lost a baby months earlier.”
Margaret covered her mouth.
Grant had never known.
Evelyn continued.
“They wanted a child. I needed mine to disappear.”
Grant’s voice hardened.
“I didn’t disappear. You changed my name.”
“Yes.”
“You changed my birth records.”
“Yes.”
“You let me believe you were dead.”
“I let you believe I never existed.”
“That’s worse.”
Evelyn closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
Maisie shifted in Elena’s arms.
The little girl looked from one adult to another.
“Can we go home?”
The question cut through everything.
Elena kissed her hair.
“Yes, baby.”
Grant looked toward the corridor.
Police should have entered by now.
He checked his phone.
No signal.
“Marcus?”
Nothing.
Thomas tried his phone.
Also dead.
Luis looked toward the ceiling.
“Jammer.”
Evelyn nodded.
“Richard activated it.”
Grant turned.
“Where is Richard?”
“I don’t know.”
“You were behind that door with Maisie.”
“He left her with me.”
“Why?”
“To make sure you stayed long enough to hear this.”
Grant stared.
“Then he wanted me to know who my parents are.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Evelyn’s expression changed.
“Because of the wedding.”
Celeste went still.
Grant looked at her.
Eight weeks.
That was how long remained until December 14.
The wedding that had suddenly become the center of a conspiracy older than their relationship.
“What happens if we marry?” Grant asked.
Evelyn looked toward Celeste.
“The Continuity Protocol activates.”
“We know.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“You know part of it.”
Grant nearly laughed.
“Apparently that’s the theme of my life.”
Evelyn ignored the bitterness.
“The protocol doesn’t require a Mercer and a Vale.”
Thomas frowned.
“But Adrian’s records—”
“Adrian falsified them.”
“Why?”
“To hide the real requirement.”
Grant waited.
Evelyn looked at Thomas.
“It requires descendants from both original families.”
“Which families?”
“Vale and Morrow.”
Grant understood slowly.
His biological father was Thomas Vale.
His biological mother was Evelyn Morrow.
He carried both bloodlines.
“I’m both.”
“Yes.”
Celeste whispered, “Then Grant doesn’t need me.”
“No.”
Evelyn looked at her.
“You need him.”
Celeste stared.
“For what?”
“You are Adrian Vale’s daughter. But the system was designed so no single Vale descendant could activate it alone.”
Grant stepped closer.
“So marriage joins our legal interests.”
“Yes.”
“And gives Celeste access through me.”
“Yes.”
Celeste shook her head.
“I never wanted access.”
Evelyn looked at her with something close to pity.
“Richard did.”
Grant thought of the forged trust amendment.
His incapacitation.
Spousal authority.
The wedding.
The entire structure suddenly became clear.
Richard did not need Celeste to own Northstar.
He needed her to become Grant’s legal spouse.
Then, if Grant were incapacitated, forged documents could make her his proxy.
And Richard controlled Celeste.
Or thought he did.
Grant looked at her.
“That’s why he pushed you toward me.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“Yes.”
“And Adrian?”
“He wanted me close to you for a different reason.”
“To expose Richard.”
“Yes.”
Grant’s jaw tightened.
“So both men used you.”
Celeste looked at him.
“And I used you.”
He said nothing.
She forced herself to continue.
“At first.”
“That phrase doesn’t help.”
“I know.”
Grant looked away.
He had loved her.
That was still the most painful fact in the room.
Not the forged paperwork.
Not the money.
Not even the lies.
He had loved her.
Maybe part of him still did.
And he hated that.
A faint sound came from the corridor.
Luis raised a hand.
“Quiet.”
Metal scraped.
Someone was opening the basement entrance.
Elena pulled Maisie closer.
Thomas moved beside Grant.
Evelyn whispered, “There’s another exit.”
“Where?”
She pointed behind the photograph wall.
Grant looked at Luis.
“Take Elena and Maisie.”
Elena shook her head.
“Grant—”
“Your daughter asked to go home.”
That ended it.
Luis moved toward the concealed exit.
Elena hesitated.
Then followed.
Before leaving, she stopped beside Celeste.
For a moment the sisters looked at each other.
Celeste whispered, “I’m sorry.”
Elena’s expression remained guarded.
“For which part?”
“All of it.”
Elena said nothing.
Then Maisie reached toward Celeste.
Celeste froze.
The child touched her bruised cheek.
“You got hurt.”
Celeste swallowed.
“Yes.”
Maisie frowned.
“Don’t be mean anymore.”
Grant watched Celeste’s face collapse.
“I won’t.”
Maisie looked serious.
“Promise?”
Celeste nodded through tears.
“I promise.”
Elena carried Maisie through the passage.
Luis followed.
The panel closed.
Footsteps came closer.
Grant looked at Evelyn.
“You go.”
“No.”
“Thirty-nine years ago you made a decision for me.”
Evelyn stared.
“Don’t make another one.”
She hesitated.
Then followed the others.
Margaret started after her.
Grant caught her hand.
“Mom.”
She turned.
He had a thousand questions.
Only one mattered right now.
“Samuel?”
“What about him?”
“Did he love me?”
Margaret looked almost offended.
“With everything he had.”
Grant nodded.
That answer mattered.
Whatever DNA said, Samuel Mercer was his father.
“Go.”
Margaret squeezed his hand.
Then disappeared through the passage.
Grant, Thomas, Celeste, and Marcus—who had finally reached them from another stairwell—remained.
Marcus held up his phone.
“Jammer’s local. Police are inside the warehouse.”
“Then where are they?”
“Someone locked the fire doors.”
Thomas looked down the corridor.
Footsteps stopped.
Grant waited.
A man appeared.
Samuel Mercer.
Grant’s body went rigid.
Samuel looked exhausted.
Blood marked his sleeve.
“You’re hurt.”
“Not mine.”
“Where’s Richard?”
Samuel looked behind him.
“Gone.”
Grant stared.
“You let him escape?”
“I was busy staying alive.”
Thomas stepped forward.
Samuel saw him.
Something old passed between them.
Grant noticed.
“So.”
He looked from Samuel to Thomas.
“You knew Thomas was my biological father.”
Samuel’s face changed.
Thomas whispered, “You knew?”
“Yes.”
Thomas hit him.
Samuel fell against the wall.
Grant did not stop him.
Thomas grabbed Samuel by the shirt.
“You let me believe I had no child.”
Samuel pushed him away.
“I raised that child.”
“You stole him.”
“No.”
“Thirty-nine years!”
“Evelyn chose us.”
“And you never thought I deserved to know?”
Samuel looked at Grant.
“He was my son.”
Thomas froze.
Samuel continued.
“Not because of blood. Because I was there every morning. Every fever. Every birthday. Every nightmare.”
Grant’s throat tightened.
Thomas released him.
Samuel straightened his shirt.
“I’m sorry.”
Thomas laughed bitterly.
“Does everyone in this family think sorry is a time machine?”
“No.”
Samuel looked at Grant.
“But sometimes it’s all we have left.”
A gunshot sounded upstairs.
Everyone ducked.
Marcus checked his phone.
“Police.”
Another shot.
Then shouting.
Grant looked toward the stairs.
“We’re done hiding.”
They moved upward.
Police had detained two armed men near the loading dock.
Richard was not among them.
Rebecca was gone.
Adrian remained unaccounted for.
Outside, ambulances waited.
Grant found Elena and Maisie wrapped in blankets.
Maisie saw him.
“Truck man!”
Grant almost smiled.
He crouched.
“You okay?”
She nodded.
“Daddy came back.”
Grant glanced at Luis.
“Yes.”
Maisie frowned.
“He’s in trouble with Mommy.”
Despite everything, Grant laughed.
“So I noticed.”
He handed her the yellow truck.
She hugged it.
Then Grant noticed something beneath the rear wheel.
A strip of paper protruded from the compartment.
He pulled it free.
Different handwriting.
Not Samuel’s.
Not Margaret’s.
A date.
December 14.
His wedding date.
Under it:
MIDNIGHT — AUTOMATIC TRANSFER.
Grant stood.
“Marcus.”
Marcus read the note.
His expression changed.
“The protocol may already be scheduled.”
“But the wedding hasn’t happened.”
“Someone may have entered a marriage authorization in advance.”
Celeste stepped closer.
“Can we cancel it?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
Marcus looked at Grant.
“We need the original marriage documents.”
Celeste went pale.
“What?”
“The ones you submitted.”
“I didn’t submit them.”
Grant stared at her.
“You told me the planner handled it.”
Celeste nodded slowly.
“Rebecca.”
Marcus checked his phone.
Then looked up.
“There’s already a marriage license application in the system.”
Grant felt cold.
“For December 14?”
“No.”
Marcus turned the screen.
The recorded date was eight weeks earlier.
Today.
Celeste stared.
“That’s impossible.”
Grant took the phone.
Status:
LICENSE ISSUED.
CEREMONY CERTIFICATE RECEIVED.
Grant looked at Marcus.
“We’re already legally married?”
“No. A certificate needs an officiant signature.”
Marcus scrolled.
Then stopped.
“It has one.”
Celeste whispered, “Who?”
Marcus turned the screen.
The officiant was someone Grant knew.
Someone who had been at their engagement party.
Someone who had spent years advising the Mercer family.
Grant read the name.
His face changed.
Then his phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
Rebecca spoke.
“Congratulations, Mr. Mercer.”
Grant’s voice hardened.
“Where are you?”
“Preparing your wedding gift.”
“We’re not married.”
Rebecca laughed.
“The state disagrees.”
Grant looked at Celeste.
She was terrified.
“What happens at midnight?”
Rebecca paused.
“The company changes hands.”
“To Richard?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
“You still haven’t understood.”
“Understood what?”
“Richard never wanted Northstar.”
Grant looked toward Samuel.
Thomas.
Celeste.
“Who does?”
Rebecca whispered, “The bride.”
Celeste shook her head violently.
“No.”
Grant’s phone vibrated while Rebecca was still connected.
A document arrived.
He opened it.
An amended Northstar ownership agreement.
His shares.
His voting rights.
His company.
Everything transferred upon legal marriage.
Recipient:
CELESTE VALE ROWAN MERCER.
Grant stared at her.
Celeste stepped backward.
“I have never seen that.”
Rebecca laughed softly through the phone.
Grant scrolled to the final page.
Celeste’s signature was there.
So was his.
Both authenticated.
Then Grant saw the date the document had originally been created.
Nineteen months earlier.
The exact week he first met Celeste.
He looked up.
Celeste was crying.
“Grant, please.”
He turned the page.
There was one attached photograph.
Celeste sat across from Rebecca at a restaurant.
Between them lay Grant’s photograph, Northstar’s corporate profile, and a file marked TARGET.
Grant’s chest went cold.
The timestamp was from three days before Celeste supposedly met him for the first time.
He raised his eyes to the woman he had planned to marry.
Celeste looked at the photograph.
May you like
Then she whispered the four words Grant never expected.
“I remember that meeting.”
