Chapter 6 - The Betrayal Inside His Own House
Vincent did not rush.
That frightened Elena more than anger would have.
He became calm.
Methodical.
Cold.
Marco assembled the men Vincent still trusted.
Rebecca refused to stay behind.
Vincent ordered her to.
She told him he was not her father.
The words struck harder than she intended.
He stared at her.
Then looked away.
“You’re right.”
Rebecca immediately regretted it.
“I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, you did.”
He handed her a bulletproof vest.
“Put it on.”
The Mercer house looked unchanged when they returned.
But the front door stood open.
Vincent entered first.
Elena stayed behind him.
Marco behind her.
Rebecca last.
No one spoke.
A lamp burned in the main hallway.
Claire sat tied to a chair near the staircase.
Gabriel Mercer stood beside her.
He was sixty-three.
Thin.
Silver-haired.
Dressed in a dark suit.
He looked more like a retired professor than a man Evelyn Mercer had feared.
“Vincent.”
His voice was warm.
Vincent raised his gun.
“Move away from her.”
Gabriel smiled.
“You look like Dominic.”
“Don’t.”
“You always hated hearing that.”
“Untie Claire.”
Gabriel looked at Elena.
“So this is the nurse.”
Vincent’s expression changed.
Gabriel noticed.
“Remarkable.”
Elena said nothing.
Gabriel smiled at her.
“Do you know he hasn’t allowed a woman to touch him in eleven years?”
Vincent’s jaw tightened.
“Stop talking to her.”
“Ah.”
Gabriel’s eyes brightened.
“That serious already?”
Vincent raised the gun slightly.
“Untie her.”
Gabriel sighed.
“You inherited your father’s impatience.”
Claire spoke.
“Rebecca shouldn’t be here.”
Gabriel turned.
His face changed when he saw her.
For the first time, confidence disappeared.
“Rebecca.”
She stared at him.
“Are you my father?”
Silence.
Gabriel looked at Claire.
Claire began crying.
Rebecca repeated, “Are you?”
Gabriel said nothing.
That was answer enough.
Rebecca staggered backward.
Claire closed her eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
Rebecca’s face crumpled.
“All these years?”
“I wanted to tell you.”
“You lied to me.”
“To keep you alive.”
Rebecca laughed bitterly.
“Everybody says that.”
Vincent looked at her.
The words echoed something he had said hours earlier.
Gabriel sighed.
“Claire always was dramatic.”
Rebecca turned on him.
“Did you kill Evelyn Mercer?”
Gabriel smiled.
“No.”
Vincent’s eyes narrowed.
“Eddie says you went inside.”
“I did.”
“My mother named you.”
“She misunderstood.”
“She feared you.”
“Evelyn feared what she couldn’t control.”
Vincent’s voice became quiet.
“Who fired?”
Gabriel looked at him.
“You really don’t remember.”
Vincent’s hand tightened around the gun.
“Remember what?”
Gabriel smiled.
“You.”
Elena’s stomach dropped.
Vincent went completely still.
Gabriel continued.
“You were there.”
“I know.”
“You had a gun.”
Vincent’s face emptied.
Claire shouted, “Stop.”
Gabriel ignored her.
“You pointed it at me.”
Vincent’s breathing quickened.
Images were returning.
Not complete.
Fragments.
His mother shouting.
His father’s voice.
Glass.
A gun.
His own hands.
Elena saw panic beginning.
“Vincent.”
He didn’t hear her.
Gabriel smiled.
“You fired.”
“No,” Claire said.
Vincent looked at her.
Claire struggled against the ropes.
“He fired at Gabriel.”
Vincent stared.
Claire’s voice broke.
“You missed.”
Gabriel’s smile disappeared.
Claire continued.
“The bullet shattered the lamp.”
Vincent saw it.
The memory arrived.
A dark room.
His mother near the staircase.
Gabriel holding a weapon.
Vincent firing.
Glass breaking.
Someone screaming.
Then another gunshot.
Evelyn falling.
Vincent’s face collapsed.
“Who fired the second shot?”
Claire looked at Gabriel.
Vincent followed her gaze.
Gabriel sighed.
“You always were smarter than your father.”
Vincent raised the gun.
Gabriel did not move.
“Eleven years,” Vincent said.
His voice shook.
“You let me believe I failed her.”
Gabriel shrugged.
“You did.”
Elena stepped closer to Vincent.
“No.”
He looked at her.
“You arrived,” she said.
“You tried to protect her.”
Gabriel laughed.
“How touching.”
Vincent flinched at the word.
Elena saw it.
She extended her hand.
Not touching.
Waiting.
Vincent stared at it.
Then slowly lowered his gun.
He took her hand.
Gabriel’s expression changed.
It was the first time Elena saw fear.
Not because Vincent had a weapon.
Because Vincent had made a choice Gabriel did not understand.
Claire whispered, “Vincent.”
He looked at her.
“You told me not to remember.”
She nodded through tears.
“You were covered in Evelyn’s blood. You kept saying you killed her.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Dominic begged me not to.”
“My father?”
“He knew Gabriel would come after you.”
Gabriel scoffed.
“Dominic grew weak.”
Claire looked at him.
“No.”
“He finally understood what you were.”
Gabriel’s face hardened.
Marco moved subtly toward Claire.
Gabriel noticed.
“Stop.”
He produced a gun from inside his jacket.
Rebecca gasped.
He pointed it toward Claire.
Vincent instantly raised his own.
“Don’t.”
Gabriel smiled.
“There’s the boy I remember.”
“You killed my mother.”
“Yes.”
The word was casual.
Rebecca began crying.
Claire closed her eyes.
Gabriel looked at Vincent.
“She was going to destroy everything.”
“She was going to stop you.”
“Same thing.”
Vincent’s face became calm.
“You know what my mother understood that you never did?”
Gabriel smiled.
“What?”
“Fear doesn’t make people loyal.”
Gabriel’s smile vanished.
Marco moved.
Fast.
Claire dropped sideways with the chair.
Gabriel turned.
Vincent crossed the distance.
The gun fell.
Marco pinned Gabriel against the wall.
No shots.
No blood.
Just the sound of Gabriel’s breath and Rebecca crying.
Vincent stood over him.
Gabriel smiled weakly.
“Go ahead.”
Vincent stared.
“You think killing me fixes you?”
Vincent said nothing.
“You think that nurse can touch the rot out of you?”
Elena watched him.
Vincent looked at his uncle.
Then at his mother’s portrait.
Then at his own hands.
“No.”
He stepped back.
“It ends differently.”
Police arrived twelve minutes later.
Not Vale’s officers.
Federal agents.
Claire had contacted them before disappearing.
She had copied everything.
The tapes.
Bank records.
Financial ledgers.
Vale’s payments.
Gabriel’s accounts.
Gabriel Mercer was taken away in handcuffs.
Thomas Vale was arrested the same morning.
Vincent watched from the front steps.
Elena stood beside him.
“You could have killed him.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you?”
Vincent looked at her.
“Because my mother spent her last years trying to stop men from deciding they were above consequences.”
Elena smiled faintly.
“She would have liked that answer.”
Vincent looked toward Evelyn’s portrait through the open door.
“I hope so.”
Claire came outside.
Rebecca stood several feet away.
Neither knew how to speak to the other.
Vincent looked at Claire.
“Eleven years.”
“I know.”
“You let me hate myself.”
Claire began crying.
“I know.”
“I don’t know if I can forgive you.”
“I know.”
He nodded.
“But I understand why you were afraid.”
Claire looked at him.
That was not forgiveness.
But it was the first bridge.
Vincent turned toward Elena.
She had gone pale.
He frowned.
“Elena?”
She pressed one hand to her side.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not.”
“Long night.”
She swayed.
Vincent caught her.
Both arms around her.
The movement happened without thought.
He froze.
So did she.
His face changed.
He was touching someone.
Fully.
Holding her against his chest.
And he was not panicking.
Elena looked up.
“You okay?”
He almost laughed.
“You’re the one fainting.”
“I skipped dinner.”
“And breakfast.”
“Yes.”
“You lecture me about medical decisions?”
“Constantly.”
He kept holding her.
Then Marco’s phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed.
“Boss.”
Vincent looked over.
“What?”
Marco slowly lowered the phone.
“That was St. Catherine’s.”
Vincent’s smile vanished.
“Eddie?”
Marco nodded.
“He woke up again.”
“Good.”
“No.”
Marco looked toward Claire.
“He remembered one more thing.”
Vincent waited.
Marco swallowed.
“Your mother left another tape.”
“Where?”
“Eddie says she gave it to someone the night she died.”
Vincent frowned.
“Who?”
Marco looked directly at Elena.
“The nurse who treated Evelyn Mercer eleven years ago.”
Elena went completely still.
May you like
Because she knew exactly who that nurse had been.
Her mother.
