Chapter 6 - The Man Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
The man standing at the entrance of the gallery looked exactly like someone who had walked out of a nightmare.
Not because he looked dangerous.
Because he looked familiar.
I had never met him before.
But something about him made every instinct inside me scream that I had seen him somewhere.
Maybe in old photographs.
Maybe in the memories my family tried to erase.
Maybe in the parts of my father's story nobody wanted me to know.
Declan moved before I could ask anything.
He stepped in front of me.
Protecting me.
Again.
But this time, I noticed something different.
He wasn't protecting me from the man.
He was protecting the man from me.
"How are you alive?"
Declan's voice was barely above a whisper.
The stranger smiled.
A slow, cold smile.
"That's the first thing you ask?"
The room became silent.
Even Adrian stopped moving.
Everyone in the gallery understood something had changed.
This was no longer a business meeting.
No longer a confrontation between powerful men.
This was something older.
Something personal.
I looked at Declan.
"Who is he?"
Declan didn't answer.
The stranger laughed softly.
"Still doing that, Declan?"
His eyes moved to me.
"Still hiding things from her?"
My hands tightened.
"Answer me."
The man looked at me.
"My name is Victor Hayes."
The surname hit me immediately.
Hayes.
Declan's family.
But there was something else.
Something about the way Declan reacted.
"You said you were dead."
Victor looked at him.
"I was."
A chill moved through me.
"What does that mean?"
Victor took a few steps into the gallery.
Nobody stopped him.
Not security.
Not Declan's men.
Nobody.
Because they all knew who he was.
Or they thought they did.
"I was declared dead twelve years ago," Victor said.
"The same year your father disappeared."
I looked at Declan.
His face became unreadable.
But I saw the answer.
The connection.
"You knew."
Declan looked at me.
"Clara."
"No."
My voice shook.
"You knew there was someone connected to my father's disappearance."
"I knew there were people involved."
"And you didn't tell me."
His silence hurt.
Again.
Victor watched us.
Almost like he expected this.
"Your husband always had a problem."
I looked at him.
"What problem?"
"He thought carrying the burden alone was noble."
Declan's eyes narrowed.
"Enough."
Victor ignored him.
"But he forgot something."
He looked at me.
"People who hide the truth don't protect others."
"They only protect themselves."
I felt my anger rising.
Because that was exactly what I had been feeling for months.
For eighteen months.
I looked at Declan.
"Is he right?"
Declan didn't answer.
And once again, his silence spoke louder than words.
Victor walked closer.
"Your father trusted Declan."
"I know."
"No."
Victor shook his head.
"You don't."
He looked at the envelope in my hand.
"The letter."
I froze.
"How do you know about that?"
Victor smiled.
"Because I helped Thomas write it."
My heart stopped.
"What?"
Declan immediately turned.
"You?"
Victor nodded.
"Your father knew he was running out of time."
The gallery suddenly felt colder.
"Why didn't he contact me?"
Victor's expression changed.
For the first time, the confidence disappeared.
"Because he believed someone close to him was watching."
I looked at Declan.
Victor noticed.
"No."
He said it immediately.
"Not him."
The words surprised me.
"Then who?"
Victor looked around the room.
At the guests.
At the cameras.
At the people pretending not to listen.
Then back at me.
"The person who destroyed your family."
My breathing became shallow.
"What did they do?"
Victor looked at Declan.
"Tell her."
Declan didn't move.
"Tell her what happened that night."
I looked at my husband.
"What night?"
Still nothing.
Victor sighed.
"Of course."
He shook his head.
"Even now."
"Declan."
My voice cracked.
"Tell me."
Finally, he spoke.
"The night your father disappeared..."
I waited.
"He wasn't running away."
My eyes filled.
"I know."
"No."
Declan looked at me.
"He was trying to save you."
The room disappeared.
Only his words remained.
"From what?"
Declan looked at Victor.
Victor looked away.
And that was when I knew.
Whatever came next would change everything.
"Your father discovered a plan," Declan said.
"A plan involving your family."
"What kind of plan?"
Declan's expression became darker.
"One where you were supposed to disappear too."
I couldn't speak.
My entire body went cold.
"What?"
"Your father found out they were going to use you as leverage."
"Against who?"
Declan looked at himself.
"Me."
The answer shocked me.
"Why?"
"Because my family had something they wanted."
"What?"
Declan hesitated.
Victor answered.
"The original files."
I frowned.
"What files?"
Victor looked at me.
"The files your father spent years collecting."
"The evidence that could destroy powerful people across Chicago."
I looked at the envelope.
"The evidence he hid."
Victor nodded.
"And the evidence someone killed him for."
I swallowed.
"But he's alive."
Victor's expression changed.
"Yes."
"Then why didn't he come home?"
Nobody answered.
That silence told me more than words.
Something had happened.
Something worse.
My phone suddenly vibrated.
Everyone looked at it.
A message.
From my father.
My hands shook as I opened it.
Only one sentence appeared.
Do not trust anyone in the room with you.
I looked up.
At Declan.
At Victor.
At Adrian.
My heart raced.
Because one of them was lying.
Maybe all of them.
Then another message arrived.
A photo.
I opened it.
And the blood drained from my face.
It was a picture taken only seconds earlier.
Inside the gallery.
It showed all of us standing together.
Declan.
Victor.
Adrian.
Me.
But there was something else in the background.
A person standing behind the glass doors.
Watching.
Holding a gun.
My eyes locked onto the image.
Because I recognized the person.
It was someone I had trusted my entire life.
Someone who had told me my father abandoned me.
Someone who had comforted me when he disappeared.
Someone who had helped me believe the lie.
The gallery doors slowly opened.
And the person from the photograph stepped inside.
Declan immediately whispered my name.
"Clara..."
I turned.
The person smiled at me.
May you like
Then said:
"I think it's time you knew what your father really did before he vanished."
