Chapter 5 - The Man Julian Trusted Most
Elara moved before she understood why.
She stepped sideways.
Marcus’s weapon fired.
The bullet struck the tree behind her.
Julian spun.
“Marcus!”
Marcus immediately dropped the gun.
“Not her!”
He pointed toward the woods.
A man fell behind Elara’s previous position.
Sniper.
Elara’s knees weakened.
Marcus had saved her.
Gabriel groaned.
Julian looked down.
“You said Marcus.”
Gabriel shook his head.
“No.”
“What were you trying to say?”
“Marcus... knows.”
Marcus approached carefully.
“Knows what?”
Gabriel’s eyes narrowed.
“Your father.”
Marcus stopped.
Something changed.
Julian saw it.
“What do you know?”
Marcus looked around.
“Not here.”
“Now.”
“Julian—”
“Now.”
Marcus exhaled.
“My father worked for Victor.”
Julian stared.
“You told me your father was a cop.”
“He was.”
“And?”
“And he was also Victor’s contact inside CPD.”
Silence.
Elara looked at Marcus.
“Was his name in the ledger?”
“Yes.”
Gabriel forced himself upright.
“Not just his.”
Marcus looked ashamed.
“My mother too.”
Julian’s face hardened.
“You knew about the ledger?”
“I knew it existed. I didn’t know where.”
“How long?”
“Since I was nineteen.”
Julian stepped back.
“You stood beside me for fifteen years.”
“Yes.”
“You knew my brother might be alive?”
“No.”
Gabriel interrupted.
“He’s telling the truth.”
Julian turned.
“How do you know?”
“Because I tried to contact Marcus three years ago.”
Marcus stared.
“That anonymous message.”
Gabriel nodded.
“You ignored it.”
“You sent one sentence: Victor lied.”
“I couldn’t risk more.”
Julian looked between them.
“Wonderful. Everyone has secrets.”
Elara crouched beside Gabriel.
“We need a hospital.”
Gabriel shook his head.
“Private doctor.”
Julian called immediately.
They escaped through the woods using the boathouse vehicle.
One hour later, Gabriel lay in a private clinic owned by one of Julian’s legitimate companies.
The bullet had passed through his shoulder.
Painful.
Not fatal.
Julian waited outside.
Elara sat beside him.
Neither spoke.
Finally:
“You trust Marcus?”
Julian stared ahead.
“I did.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
He looked at her.
“I don’t know.”
Marcus stood at the opposite end of the hallway.
Alone.
He looked less like a feared lieutenant now.
More like a man waiting for judgment.
Elara said, “He saved me.”
“Yes.”
“He could have hidden his family connection.”
“He did.”
“He admitted it when forced.”
“That’s not exactly heroic.”
“No.”
She paused.
“But people raised by dangerous families don’t always tell the truth easily.”
Julian looked at her.
“That directed at me?”
“Maybe.”
The doctor emerged.
Gabriel would recover.
Julian entered alone.
Two brothers.
Eleven years apart.
For almost an hour, nobody else heard what they said.
When Julian returned, his eyes were red.
Elara did not mention it.
“He has the names,” Julian said.
“The other half?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“He memorized them.”
Marcus approached.
“Smart.”
Gabriel’s voice came from the doorway.
“No evidence. Just memory.”
He wore a sling.
Pale.
Angry.
Alive.
“Elara’s father wrote the physical copy.”
Elara stood.
“My father?”
Gabriel nodded.
“After he helped me escape.”
“Where is it?”
“I don’t know.”
She almost laughed from frustration.
“Everyone keeps telling me my father hid things and then saying they don’t know where.”
Gabriel’s expression softened.
“He did it because he loved you.”
“I know.”
“His death wasn’t an accident.”
She swallowed.
“Tell me.”
Gabriel looked at Marcus.
Then Julian.
“Victor discovered Daniel Vance had copied the final ledger page.”
Elara’s father.
“Victor ordered someone to scare him.”
Julian went still.
“Who?”
Gabriel looked at Marcus.
Marcus’s face drained.
“My father.”
Elara stared.
Marcus shook his head.
“No.”
Gabriel continued.
“Your father followed Daniel Vance that night.”
Marcus whispered, “He said Daniel lost control of the car.”
“That’s what he told everyone.”
Elara could barely breathe.
“Did your father kill mine?”
Marcus looked destroyed.
“I don’t know.”
Julian stepped toward him.
“If you’re lying—”
“I’m not.”
Marcus removed his weapon.
Placed it on the table.
Then his phone.
Then his wallet.
“You want me gone, say it.”
Julian stared at him.
Elara saw fifteen years between them.
Wars.
Funerals.
Businesses.
Trust.
Finally Julian said, “Stay.”
Marcus looked surprised.
“Until we know the truth.”
Gabriel leaned against the door.
“There’s more.”
Nobody wanted more.
“There always is,” Elara said.
Gabriel almost smiled.
“The last name Daniel discovered wasn’t Crane.”
“Whose was it?”
Gabriel looked at Julian.
“Victor’s attorney.”
Julian frowned.
“Which one?”
“The one who handled your mother’s estate.”
Marcus whispered the name.
“Richard Thorne.”
Julian’s expression changed completely.
Elara knew that name too.
Everyone did.
Richard Thorne was not a gangster.
He was respectable.
Philanthropist.
Board member.
Former federal prosecutor.
A man who appeared in newspapers beside governors.
Gabriel continued.
“Thorne built the legal structure behind everything. Judges. shell companies. contracts. police protection.”
Julian said, “He still controls Vane Holdings legal affairs.”
“Exactly.”
Elara understood.
“He knows every property you own.”
“Yes.”
“He knows where you move money.”
“Yes.”
“He knows where your security people are.”
Marcus looked at his phone.
“And he knew about the winter house.”
Julian’s jaw tightened.
Gabriel nodded.
“Thorne has been trying to destroy both Vane and Crane power for years so he can inherit the network.”
Elara whispered, “Sebastian discovered it.”
“That’s why he died.”
Marcus asked, “Why frame Elara?”
Gabriel looked toward her.
“Because Daniel Vance left something only she could find.”
Elara closed her eyes.
Another hidden object.
Another message.
Another piece of her father.
“Where?”
Gabriel reached into his coat.
He handed her a small brass key.
Elara stared.
“That’s not mine.”
“No.”
“It’s your father’s.”
“Where did you get it?”
“He gave it to me the night I escaped.”
“Why keep it?”
“He said I’d know when to return it.”
She took the key.
A tiny number was engraved on the side.
Christmas Eve.
Marcus examined it.
“Safe deposit?”
Elara shook her head slowly.
“My father had a workshop.”
Julian remembered.
“You said he was a carpenter.”
“Yes.”
“He rented a place near Bridgeport.”
“Does it still exist?”
“I think so.”
They arrived just before midnight.
The workshop had been closed for fourteen years.
Dust covered everything.
Elara walked through memories.
Workbench.
Tools.
Old wood.
Her father’s radio.
She found a locked cabinet.
The key fit.
Inside was a single wooden box.
Raven carved on top.
Elara opened it.
Empty.
She stared.
“No.”
Julian examined the interior.
“False bottom.”
Marcus pressed the corners.
Click.
A panel lifted.
Inside lay one page.
Names.
Dates.
Payments.
At the bottom:
RICHARD THORNE.
And beneath his name:
OFFICER SAMUEL VALE.
Marcus’s father.
Elara looked at him.
Marcus went pale.
Then they heard a sound from the front of the workshop.
A slow clap.
Richard Thorne stepped through the doorway.
He wore a gray overcoat.
No visible weapon.
Behind him stood six men.
He smiled at Elara.
“Your father was always better at hiding wood than hiding secrets.”
Julian stepped forward.
Thorne looked at the ledger page.
“Give me that.”
“No,” Elara said.
Thorne’s smile faded.
“Your father said the same thing.”
Marcus froze.
Elara’s voice became quiet.
“You were there the night he died.”
Thorne looked directly at her.
Then at Marcus.
“No.”
He smiled again.
“His father was.”
And Marcus’s phone began ringing from an impossible number.
May you like
The caller ID read:
SAMUEL VALE.
