Chapter 6 - The Secret Beneath The West Wing
The darkness behind me moved.
I didn't turn around.
Not immediately.
Because every instinct I had built over forty years told me one thing.
Never react before you know the enemy's position.
My phone screen still showed the photo.
Me standing in the hallway.
The children behind me.
And a shadowed figure only a few feet away.
Someone had been watching us.
Someone had been inside my house.
Someone had been close enough to take the picture.
"Damien..."
Elena's voice was barely a whisper.
I raised one hand.
Nobody moved.
The old version of me would have reached for a weapon.
Would have called security.
Would have destroyed whoever dared threaten my family.
But the man I was six years ago would have made the wrong choice.
Because six years ago, I trusted the wrong people.
Slowly, I turned around.
The hallway was empty.
Nothing.
No footsteps.
No movement.
Only darkness.
I walked forward.
My heart was beating harder with every step.
The message remained on my phone.
Turn around, Damien. I'm behind you.
But there was nobody there.
Which meant one thing.
They wanted me to know they could reach me whenever they wanted.
They wanted me afraid.
I looked toward the ceiling.
The security cameras were still dead.
Whoever did this knew exactly how my house worked.
That scared me more than the threat itself.
Because only a few people knew every weakness in my security system.
I returned to the group.
"Everyone stays together."
Margaret looked at me.
"Damien..."
"Nobody leaves this room."
Adrian shook his head.
"You don't understand."
I looked at him.
"No."
My voice was cold.
"I understand perfectly."
I pointed toward the hidden room.
"For six years, people have been moving around my life like I wasn't even there."
I looked at the photographs.
"My wife died."
I looked at my children.
"My children were used."
Then I looked at all of them.
"And every person who knew something decided I wasn't allowed to know."
Nobody spoke.
Because nobody could argue.
I took Clara's key from my pocket.
"We're going to the west wing."
Margaret immediately became nervous.
"No."
I looked at her.
"You said that key opens something there."
"I know."
"Then we're going."
Her face changed.
"Damien, your father sealed that place for a reason."
"My father lied about being dead."
The words stopped her.
"My brother was alive."
Nobody answered.
"And someone has been experimenting on my children."
I stepped toward the hallway.
"I am done being afraid of locked doors."
The west wing had been untouched for years.
At least, that's what everyone believed.
The old hallway was covered in dust.
The lights didn't work.
The walls were damaged from the fire my father claimed destroyed the area.
But as I walked through it, something felt wrong.
A fire damaged a building.
It didn't erase footprints.
It didn't remove security panels.
It didn't hide modern equipment behind old walls.
I stopped in front of a large wooden door.
Margaret stood behind me.
"This is it."
I looked at the lock.
Old.
Rusty.
Almost forgotten.
I inserted Clara's key.
It turned immediately.
Too easily.
I looked at Adrian.
"You expected this."
He looked away.
"No."
"You're lying."
He sighed.
"I knew Clara had hidden something."
"But you didn't know where?"
"No."
The lock clicked.
The door opened.
Inside was not an abandoned room.
It was a laboratory.
A hidden medical facility beneath my home.
Clean.
Active.
Modern.
My stomach turned.
There were computers.
Medical equipment.
Research files.
And in the center of the room...
A single chair.
With restraints.
I walked closer.
I didn't want to understand.
But I did.
Someone had brought people here.
Someone had tested something here.
Someone had done this under my roof.
Elena covered her mouth.
"Oh my God."
Margaret started crying.
"I never saw this room."
I looked at her.
"You knew there was something here."
"I knew Clara was afraid."
"That's not an answer."
She wiped her tears.
"I was afraid too."
I moved toward the computer.
The screen was still active.
A file was open.
PROJECT MERCER.
I clicked it.
A video appeared.
A man was sitting in front of the camera.
My breath stopped.
Because I knew him.
My father.
Richard Mercer.
Older.
Alive.
Speaking directly into the camera.
"If you're watching this, Damien, then you finally discovered the truth."
My hands froze.
The recording continued.
"You always believed I built this empire for money."
He smiled.
"You were wrong."
I hated that smile.
The same smile I remembered from childhood.
The smile of a man who always knew more than everyone else.
"The Mercer family was never about wealth."
The screen changed.
Images appeared.
Medical scans.
Genetic charts.
My children's records.
"The world changes through those willing to sacrifice."
I stepped back.
"No."
My father continued.
"Noah and Lily are not victims."
My blood turned cold.
"They are proof."
The video paused.
Then a second voice appeared.
A woman.
Clara.
My entire body went numb.
Her voice.
"Richard, this ends now."
The video changed.
My wife appeared beside my father.
Alive.
Angry.
Terrified.
"You promised me the children would be safe."
Richard looked at her.
"They will be."
"You lied."
The recording shook.
Then Clara looked directly into the camera.
Not at Richard.
At me.
"If Damien finds this..."
She stopped.
Her eyes filled with tears.
"Please forgive me."
I couldn't breathe.
Because she looked exactly like the woman I lost.
Not a memory.
Not a photograph.
A person.
Alive.
Scared.
Trying to save us.
The video ended.
Nobody spoke.
Then Adrian whispered:
"She knew."
I turned.
"Knew what?"
He looked at the screen.
"That she might not survive."
My hands shook.
"Clara was alive after the accident."
Nobody answered.
Because the truth was too impossible to say.
I grabbed Adrian.
"You told me she died."
His face broke.
"I was forced."
"By who?"
He looked at the computer.
Then toward the hallway.
"By him."
I released him.
"What?"
A sound came from the speakers.
The computer turned on again.
A new file opened.
No password.
No lock.
A message appeared.
DAMIAN MERCER.
PERSONAL MESSAGE.
My father's voice filled the room.
"If you are seeing this, then Clara failed."
I stared at the screen.
"Failed?"
The recording continued.
"She failed because she trusted you."
My blood went cold.
The next words were worse.
"Because the person you blame is not the person who destroyed your family."
Everyone froze.
The screen changed.
A photograph appeared.
A person standing beside my father.
A person I recognized.
A person I had trusted more than anyone.
My hands went numb.
May you like
Because the person standing next to my father in the photograph was...
Before I could process it, the laboratory door behind us slowly began to close.
