Chapter 8 - The Name Beneath the Seal
Genevieve did not go alone.
She simply made everyone believe she had.
At 6:42 a.m., she entered the abandoned mountain house where her mother had hidden after the crash eighteen years earlier.
Beatrice stood inside.
Malcolm did not.
Neither did Eleanor.
“You lied about the photograph,” Genevieve said.
Beatrice nodded.
“It was taken years ago.”
“Why?”
“To get you here.”
Genevieve's heart broke quietly.
“Were you part of it?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Since before you were born.”
Beatrice explained.
She had worked for Victoria.
Not the Circle.
The original resistance against what it became.
The millions were not profits.
They funded safe houses, witnesses, investigators.
Including Eleanor.
“You protected my mother.”
“For eighteen years.”
Genevieve sat down.
Every betrayal tonight had contained another truth beneath it.
“Why pretend otherwise?”
“Because the real traitor is watching every person you trust.”
“Who?”
Beatrice placed an envelope on the table.
Black wax.
Wolf and moon.
“Your mother finally decoded the name.”
Genevieve reached for it.
A bullet shattered the window.
Beatrice pushed her down.
Gideon's men returned fire from outside.
Another bullet struck Beatrice.
Genevieve screamed.
Beatrice collapsed.
Genevieve pressed her hands against the wound.
“Stay with me.”
“Open it.”
“Beatrice—”
“Open the damned envelope.”
Genevieve did.
Inside was one name.
Samuel Crane.
She stared.
“The lawyer?”
Beatrice shook her head.
“Not the traitor.”
Genevieve turned the paper over.
Another name was written there.
Someone she had seen at breakfast tables.
Birthdays.
Funerals.
Christmas.
Someone who had attended her graduation.
Someone who had walked her halfway down the aisle before Arthur took her arm.
Dr. Elias Winterborne.
Arthur's cousin.
The family physician.
Genevieve felt sick.
“He signed Mother's death certificate.”
“Yes.”
“He treated Gideon after the shooting tonight.”
“Yes.”
Understanding came violently.
The wound.
The blood.
The medication.
Genevieve grabbed her phone.
She called Gideon.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
She ran outside.
Rosalind was coming toward her.
“Where is Gideon?”
“He went back to the estate.”
“Why?”
“Elias called. Said Arthur collapsed.”
Genevieve's blood froze.
“Elias is the traitor.”
Rosalind stopped.
Genevieve was already running.
They reached the estate at 7:11.
The halls were empty.
Too empty.
Genevieve found Arthur unconscious in the library.
Alive.
Drugged.
No Gideon.
His phone lay on the floor.
Blood marked the carpet.
Genevieve followed it.
Down the corridor.
Toward the east wing.
The same corridor Gideon had walked on their wedding night.
The irony was almost cruel.
A door stood open.
Inside, Elias waited.
Gideon sat tied to a chair.
His face was pale.
A syringe protruded from his arm.
Elias smiled at Genevieve.
“Right on time.”
She stepped inside.
“What did you give him?”
“Something slow.”
“Antidote?”
“In my pocket.”
Rosalind raised her gun.
Elias pressed a switch.
A red light appeared on Gideon's chest.
Laser.
Sniper.
“Shoot me and he dies.”
Rosalind lowered the weapon.
Elias looked at Genevieve.
“Contract.”
She held it up.
“Antidote first.”
“Ledger too.”
“No.”
“Then you'll be a widow before your marriage is registered.”
Gideon opened his eyes.
“Don't.”
Genevieve looked at him.
Then at the clock.
7:18.
She placed the contract on the floor.
Then the ledger.
Elias smiled.
“Kick them over.”
She did.
He picked them up.
“What now?”
“Now I correct a mistake twenty-nine years in the making.”
He opened the contract.
Turned to page forty-three.
And pressed his thumb against the red handprint.
A hidden compartment inside the binding clicked open.
Something small fell onto the floor.
A memory card.
Elias stared.
So did Genevieve.
May you like
Then Gideon whispered, “Run.”
Because the sniper's red dot had moved from his chest to hers.
