Chapter 6 - The Person Beside Me
Emily stepped away from me and whispered, “I can explain.”
Daniel’s phone slipped from her sleeve and hit the floor.
Its screen was already open.
A transfer receipt filled the display.
The destination was an encrypted account labeled A.M.
My mother’s initials.
Every person in the room turned toward Anna Marlowe.
For one impossible second, nobody understood who had betrayed whom.
Emily lifted both hands.
“I didn’t copy it.”
Nico picked up the phone.
“It says you did.”
“No. It says my credentials were used.”
“Difference?”
“A huge one.”
I stared at her.
“Why do you have Daniel’s phone?”
Her eyes filled.
“Because he’s my brother.”
The room changed again.
“Daniel Reeves is your brother?”
“Yes.”
“You never told me.”
“I use my mother’s last name professionally.”
That part was true.
Emily Carter.
I knew that.
I had never asked why.
“Did you set me up with him?”
“Yes.”
Anger surged.
“You told me he was a friend from business school.”
“He is.”
“You neglected the sibling part.”
“Because I knew you wouldn’t go if you thought I was arranging you with my brother.”
“That is not the problem right now.”
“I know.”
Ethan stepped toward her.
“Who paid him?”
“I don’t know.”
“Bad answer.”
“It’s the truth.”
Nico held up the phone.
“Then why do you have this?”
“He gave it to me.”
“When?”
“Six forty.”
I stared.
“He was already at the restaurant by seven.”
“Yes.”
“Why would he give you his phone?”
“He had two.”
Of course.
“One personal. One they gave him.”
“They?”
Emily nodded.
“He called me this afternoon. He was scared. Said somebody offered him money to take you to dinner and leave a package in his coat.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“I tried.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“I called your office.”
“I was there.”
“Victor answered.”
Silence.
“He said you were in a meeting.”
I looked at Victor.
He remained on the floor beside Nico’s men.
Still smiling.
“You knew Emily knew,” I said.
Victor shrugged.
“I knew many things.”
My mother stepped toward him.
“You copied the registry.”
Victor looked at her.
“No.”
She froze.
For the first time, he sounded sincere.
“I wanted control. Copying it creates competition.”
Ethan frowned.
“Then who?”
Victor looked directly at Anna.
“You really haven’t figured it out?”
My mother’s face changed.
Salvatore saw it.
“Anna?”
She backed toward the terminal.
“Don’t.”
He stared at her.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.”
“Anna.”
She closed her eyes.
Then Emily whispered, “A.M. isn’t Anna Marlowe.”
I looked at her.
“What?”
“The account label. A.M. The encryption tag.”
She turned toward Ethan.
“It stands for Asset Mirror.”
Nico checked Daniel’s phone.
“She’s right.”
Ethan moved beside him.
“Meaning?”
“The registry was mirrored. Not sent to a person.”
“Where?”
Emily pointed upward.
“To the cloud architecture Moretti Holdings installed last month.”
I remembered the project.
Victor had approved it.
But someone else had designed it.
My stomach dropped.
“Marcus.”
Ethan looked at me.
“Marcus Vale.”
Chief technology officer.
Thirty-eight.
Brilliant.
Quiet.
The man who had spent six months working across the hall from me.
The man who had helped repair my laptop three times.
The man who had brought cupcakes for Emily’s birthday.
The man currently traveling in London.
Supposedly.
Nico made a call.
“No answer.”
Ethan said, “Track him.”
“He’s not in London.”
We all knew before Nico finished.
His phone buzzed.
“His company jet landed at Teterboro two hours ago.”
Victor laughed from the floor.
“Finally.”
Ethan turned.
“You knew?”
“I suspected.”
“Why didn’t you say it?”
“Because Marcus wants me dead too.”
The absurdity of the night almost became funny.
Almost.
My mother rubbed her forehead.
“Marcus’s father was part of the coalition.”
Salvatore looked at her.
“Vale?”
She nodded.
“Thomas Vale.”
Salvatore swore.
“Who is Thomas Vale?” I asked.
Ethan answered.
“A federal prosecutor.”
I stared.
“A prosecutor was part of this?”
“A prosecutor built much of it,” Victor said.
He pushed himself upright.
“Did you think organized crime existed because criminals were clever? It exists because legitimate men profit from it.”
Ethan looked disgusted.
“For once, you might be telling the truth.”
Victor smiled.
“Treasure the moment.”
Nico’s phone buzzed again.
“Marcus is at the Moretti estate.”
Ethan went still.
His estate.
Not the penthouse.
The old family property outside the city.
“What’s there?” I asked.
“My father’s archive.”
My mother whispered, “The original ledger.”
Ethan turned toward her.
“There’s a physical copy?”
“Partial.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I thought Enzo destroyed it.”
Apparently that sentence was becoming the theme of our lives.
We left Victor under guard.
Salvatore refused medical transport until we reached somewhere secure.
My mother came with us.
Emily insisted too.
I wanted to refuse.
Then remembered that people lying to protect me had caused half this disaster.
“Fine,” I told her. “But you stay where Nico tells you.”
She nodded.
“And after this?”
“I’m still furious.”
“Fair.”
The drive north took forty minutes.
Ethan and I sat together again.
This time the space between us felt different.
Not because danger had passed.
It hadn’t.
Because we finally knew we were not related.
That should not have mattered as much as it did.
He looked out the window.
“You don’t have to say it.”
“Say what?”
“That the revelation in the vault was unpleasant.”
I almost smiled.
“Unpleasant?”
“I’m choosing a conservative word.”
“I thought for twenty minutes that the man who interrogated my date might be my brother.”
His mouth tightened.
“I was having a worse evening.”
I turned.
“Why worse?”
He looked at me.
There it was.
No joke now.
No escape.
“Because I had spent six months trying not to want something I had no right to want.”
My breathing slowed.
“And then?”
“And then Salvatore told me wanting it was monstrous.”
The honesty hit harder than charm ever could.
I looked down at my hands.
“You hired me because of my mother.”
“Yes.”
“You investigated me.”
“Yes.”
“You interfered with my date.”
“Yes.”
“You monitor my apartment.”
“Exterior access.”
“That distinction will never save you.”
“I know.”
“And you’re involved in things I still don’t fully understand.”
“Yes.”
I looked at him.
“So this is terrible timing.”
“The worst.”
I leaned closer.
“Good.”
His brows lifted.
“Good?”
“Because I’m not ready to forgive you.”
“I didn’t ask.”
“You were thinking about it.”
“I was thinking about several things.”
For the first time all night, heat replaced fear.
Then the car stopped.
Nico’s voice came over the radio.
“Gate is open.”
Ethan immediately changed.
Alert.
Cold.
Protective.
The estate appeared through trees.
No lights.
The front door stood open.
We entered through the side.
Nico’s team spread out.
The study had been destroyed.
Drawers emptied.
Paintings removed.
A safe opened.
Ethan walked toward it.
“Original ledger’s gone.”
A sound came from upstairs.
One floorboard.
Ethan looked at Nico.
They moved.
I followed despite the look he gave me.
At the top landing, a bedroom door was open.
Inside, Marcus Vale sat in a chair.
Hands bound.
Mouth bleeding.
Alive.
I stopped.
If Marcus was tied up, he was not our thief.
He looked at Ethan.
“Thank God.”
Ethan did not lower his weapon.
“Who did this?”
Marcus swallowed.
“Your father’s attorney.”
“My father’s attorney is dead.”
“No.”
My mother turned pale.
“Who?”
Marcus looked at her.
“Samuel Cross.”
The name meant nothing to me.
It meant everything to her.
She backed into the hallway wall.
“No.”
Salvatore grabbed her arm.
“Anna?”
Tears appeared in her eyes.
“He was the hospice doctor.”
My stomach dropped.
The doctor who certified my mother’s death.
The man who made my fake mourning possible.
Marcus struggled against the rope.
“He has the ledger.”
Ethan cut him free.
“Where is Cross?”
Marcus looked at me.
“He said Claire would know.”
“I’ve never met him.”
“Yes, you have.”
“No.”
Marcus shook his head.
“He changed his name.”
My phone vibrated.
A contact appeared.
DANIEL REEVES.
I answered.
No voice.
Only a live video.
Daniel was tied to a chair.
Behind him stood the elderly waiter from the restaurant.
The man I had barely noticed.
He removed his glasses.
And I recognized the hospice doctor who had told me my mother was dead.
Samuel Cross smiled at the camera.
Then he lifted the original ledger.
May you like
“Midnight was only the first deadline,” he said.
“Claire has until sunrise to decide who lives next.”
