Chapter 6 - The War Against The People Who Buried The Past
The door handle stopped moving.
For three seconds, nobody breathed.
The apartment felt frozen.
My hand remained near my weapon.
Marcus stood beside me, ready for whatever was waiting outside.
Elena held onto Beatrice's arm.
And I stared at the door.
Because there was only one person who could make every person in that room react with fear.
One person connected to every secret.
One person my father spent years trying to expose.
The footsteps outside moved again.
Slow.
Calm.
Confident.
The person outside wasn't afraid of us.
They knew exactly who was behind the door.
Then the voice came again.
"Adrian."
My blood ran cold.
Because I knew that voice.
Not from a memory.
Not from a recording.
From my childhood.
A voice I hadn't heard in thirteen years.
"Open the door."
Marcus whispered:
"Don't."
I looked at him.
"Who is it?"
He didn't answer.
That was enough.
I reached for the handle.
Elena stepped forward.
"Adrian, wait."
I stopped.
Not because I was afraid.
Because my mother looked terrified.
Not nervous.
Not worried.
Terrified.
The kind of fear that came from knowing something worse was waiting.
"Tell me who is outside."
Her lips parted.
But before she could answer, the person outside spoke again.
"I know you're in there, Elena."
My mother's face changed.
She stepped back.
The room became silent.
Because whoever was outside knew.
They knew she was alive.
They knew where she was.
And they knew I was there.
I opened the door.
Not completely.
Just enough.
A man stood in the hallway.
Older.
Gray hair.
Expensive coat.
A face that looked familiar even after all these years.
I knew him.
Everyone in my family knew him.
Victor Hale.
The man who disappeared after my father's death.
The man blamed for my mother's disappearance.
The man I was told to hate.
He looked at me.
And instead of attacking.
He smiled sadly.
"Adrian."
I didn't move.
"You were dead."
Victor nodded.
"So was your mother."
The answer hit harder than expected.
Because he was right.
Everyone in this story had died at least once.
At least according to the people who controlled the truth.
I opened the door wider.
Victor stepped inside.
Marcus immediately raised his weapon.
Victor didn't react.
"If I wanted you dead, you wouldn't have made it this far."
I looked at him.
"That's supposed to make me trust you?"
"No."
Victor looked around the room.
"You're too smart for that."
His eyes stopped on Elena.
For a moment, something changed.
Regret.
Pain.
Then it disappeared.
"You shouldn't have brought him here."
Elena's voice was cold.
"You left me no choice."
Victor looked at me.
"You finally found the door."
I frowned.
"What door?"
"The one your father spent his entire life keeping closed."
I hated how everyone spoke in riddles.
Every person who had a piece of the truth acted like I needed to earn it.
Like my own life was a puzzle they controlled.
I stepped closer.
"Start talking."
Victor looked at the recorder on the table.
Then at the folder.
Then at the key.
He understood immediately.
"You found everything."
"Not everything."
I looked directly into his eyes.
"I still don't know who destroyed my family."
Victor was silent.
Then he said:
"You do."
My expression changed.
"What?"
"You've known the answer for years."
I shook my head.
"No."
"Yes."
Victor walked toward the table.
"The person who destroyed your family wasn't someone who attacked from the outside."
He pointed at the documents.
"They didn't need to."
My chest tightened.
"Because they were already inside."
Victor nodded.
I thought about Lorenzo.
The man beside me.
The man who helped me rise after my father's death.
The man who knew every weakness.
Every location.
Every decision.
But something didn't fit.
"Why would Lorenzo do this?"
Victor looked surprised.
Not because I mentioned the name.
Because I was wrong.
"Lorenzo?"
The room went quiet.
Victor looked at Marcus.
Then Elena.
And suddenly I realized something.
Everyone had assumed I knew more than I did.
"You don't mean Lorenzo."
Victor shook his head.
"No."
A cold feeling moved through me.
"Then who?"
Victor looked at the key.
"Someone older."
Someone older.
Someone connected to my father.
Someone who had been there before I became powerful.
Before I built my own empire.
Before I knew who to trust.
My phone rang.
Everyone looked at it.
This time, the name appeared.
Not unknown.
Not hidden.
A name from my past.
My father's lawyer.
Richard Cole.
I answered.
Silence.
Then his voice.
"Adrian."
I didn't speak.
He continued.
"I know you're with Victor."
My eyes moved toward him.
Richard continued.
"And I know your mother is alive."
The room froze.
"How?"
A pause.
Then:
"Because I was the one who helped your father hide her."
My grip tightened.
"Why are you calling me?"
His breathing changed.
Like he was afraid someone might hear.
"Because I made a mistake."
"What mistake?"
"I trusted the wrong person."
The line became quiet.
Then Richard whispered:
"The person who betrayed your father wasn't trying to take his empire."
I waited.
"They were trying to erase his bloodline."
My heart stopped.
"What does that mean?"
Before he answered, another sound interrupted.
A crash.
Not from the phone.
From outside.
Victor turned toward the window.
His expression changed.
"They found us."
Marcus moved immediately.
"Who?"
Victor looked at me.
"The people your father was protecting you from."
The lights suddenly went out.
The apartment fell into darkness.
Someone moved outside.
Fast.
Multiple footsteps.
Not one person.
Many.
Elena grabbed my arm.
"Adrian, you need to leave."
I looked at her.
"No."
"Listen to me."
Her voice broke.
"You don't understand what they will do."
I looked toward the door.
"I've spent my whole life not understanding."
The first impact hit the apartment door.
Everyone froze.
The second hit harder.
The old wood cracked.
Marcus moved beside me.
Victor picked up the box from the floor.
"We have seconds."
I looked at him.
"What is in the box?"
Victor didn't answer.
Instead, he handed me a photograph.
An old photograph.
My father.
My mother.
Victor.
And someone else.
Someone standing behind them.
Someone I recognized immediately.
Someone who had been part of my life since the beginning.
I stared at the face.
"No."
Victor watched my reaction.
"Now you understand."
The door shook again.
The lock began to break.
I looked at the photograph.
Then at Victor.
"Tell me who this is."
Victor opened his mouth.
May you like
But before he could answer, the apartment door exploded inward.
And the person standing in the doorway said my name.
