Chapter 4 - The Man Behind the Translation
Victor recognized the key.
“My father had one like it.”
Lana stared at him.
“Why did my grandmother give it to me?”
“I don’t know.”
Marcus remained on the phone.
“Midnight tomorrow, Victor. Bring both keys.”
“Where?”
“You already know.”
The call ended.
Victor studied the miniature key.
Leo asked, “Your father was connected to H-17?”
Victor looked troubled.
“He claimed he wasn't.”
Elise answered for him.
“He lied.”
Victor turned.
“My father helped Ingrid?”
“Your father created the archive.”
Silence.
Anthony Marlow, feared across the docks, had discovered the trafficking operation before Victor did. He had quietly collected evidence against the alliance.
When he was murdered, Ingrid inherited the archive.
Victor had spent twenty years believing his father died in a territorial dispute.
Instead, Edward Vale had ordered the killing.
Marcus had grown up beside Victor while knowing exactly what their fathers had done to each other.
The betrayal became personal.
They escaped through Pier Nine and reached one of Victor’s secure properties before dawn.
Lana wanted to go home.
Victor refused.
“They know your apartment.”
“I have a job.”
“Your manager was murdered.”
The words silenced her.
Victor softened his voice.
“Stay until this ends.”
“You're asking?”
“Yes.”
“Would I be allowed to leave if I said no?”
Victor considered it.
“Yes.”
Leo looked surprised.
Lana stayed.
Not because she trusted Victor.
Because someone had built an assassination plan around her childhood.
She needed answers.
Gavin sat alone in the kitchen staring at Sarah’s photograph.
Lana joined him.
“You loved her enough to betray Victor.”
He wiped his eyes.
“I loved her enough to become someone she might hate.”
“That's not the same thing.”
“No.”
He looked at Lana.
“Victor will kill me when this is over.”
“Maybe.”
“You're terrible at reassurance.”
“So was my grandmother.”
Gavin almost smiled.
Then he remembered something.
“Klaus used a phrase tonight. I thought it was just an insult.”
“What phrase?”
“The orphan keeps the crown.”
Lana frowned.
Victor entered behind them.
“What did you say?”
Gavin repeated it.
Victor stopped.
“My father used that phrase.”
Leo came in carrying a laptop.
“We found Marcus.”
A surveillance image showed him entering Hawthorne Grill.
Twenty minutes ago.
Victor stared.
“He went back.”
“Why?”
Lana understood first.
“The pitcher.”
They looked at her.
“The H-17 pitcher came from Hawthorne’s private collection. Daniel knew about it. Marcus may be looking for something hidden there.”
Victor grabbed his coat.
They returned to the restaurant before sunrise.
Police tape surrounded the service entrance, but Victor had ways around it.
The private room remained untouched.
Lana found the pitcher.
She examined the base.
A seam.
Victor gave her a knife.
She twisted.
The bottom opened.
Inside was a rolled strip of paper.
A list of names.
Judges.
Detectives.
Businessmen.
At the bottom:
VICTOR MARLOW — TARGET.
LANA BECKETT — KEY HOLDER.
GAVIN HALE — LEVERAGE.
SARAH HALE — LEVERAGE.
LEO MERCER—
Lana stopped.
Victor took the paper.
Beside Leo’s name was one word.
ASSET.
Everyone looked at him.
Leo's face hardened.
“That isn't what it looks like.”
Victor raised his pistol.
“Then tell me what it is.”
Leo slowly lifted his hands.
“I've never worked for Marcus.”
“Why are you listed as his asset?”
“I don't know.”
A sound came from the hallway.
Lana turned.
Footsteps.
Slow.
Deliberate.
The private-room door opened.
A badly wounded Klaus Reinhardt stumbled inside.
Blood covered his shirt.
He looked directly at Leo.
Then he whispered, “Ask him who opened the gates twenty-two years ago.”
Klaus collapsed.
May you like
Victor’s gun remained pointed at Leo.
And Leo finally said, “It was me.”
