Chapter 3 - Evelyn’s Daughter
Conrad hit the hidden door with his shoulder.
It didn’t move.
“Open it!”
No answer.
His phone showed no signal.
The walls were reinforced.
A panic room.
Evelyn had designed it to protect secrets.
Now someone had turned it into a cage.
Conrad searched the shelves.
Old documents.
Cash.
Passports.
Photographs.
One photograph stopped him.
Evelyn holding a toddler.
The child was Claire.
Written beneath:
Claire Evelyn Vale. Age two.
Conrad sat down.
Claire was his niece.
The poor waitress his daughter had chosen in a ballroom full of heiresses was Evelyn’s child.
His family.
And someone had kidnapped her inside his own building.
He searched faster.
One box contained letters.
Evelyn to Nora.
Nora had not been Claire’s biological mother.
She had been Evelyn’s college roommate.
After Evelyn discovered evidence connecting August Vale to illegal financial transfers, she planned to expose him.
Then someone attempted to kill her.
Evelyn survived.
But she believed Claire would be used against her.
So Nora took the child.
Evelyn disappeared.
The letters stopped eleven years ago.
Conrad found the final envelope.
Nora—
If you don’t hear from me again, tell Claire who she is when she’s old enough.
Do not tell Conrad until you know he is free from August.
I love my brother.
That is exactly why he cannot know.
—E
Conrad closed his eyes.
His sister had loved him enough to distrust the world around him.
Maybe she had been right.
He heard footsteps outside.
“Conrad?”
Nathan Cole.
Conrad stood.
The door opened.
Nathan entered.
Forty.
Dark suit.
Usually calm.
Tonight his tie was loose and blood marked one sleeve.
Conrad grabbed him by the throat.
“You were there.”
Nathan didn’t resist.
“Yes.”
“You knew Evelyn lived.”
“Yes.”
“For twelve years?”
Nathan’s expression twisted.
“For three days.”
Conrad released him.
“What?”
“I found out three days before she disappeared.”
“Explain.”
Nathan looked toward the recorder.
“She contacted me after the crash. I helped her collect evidence against your father. She was terrified.”
“Where is she?”
“I don’t know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I watched her leave this house twelve years ago. She promised she would contact me when she was safe. She never did.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because she made me promise.”
“I was her brother.”
“And you were twenty-two years old, living under August’s roof.”
Conrad looked away.
It was cruel.
It was also true.
Nathan touched the blood on his sleeve.
“We don’t have time.”
“Claire was taken.”
“I know.”
“By whom?”
“I believe August’s security director, Marcus Vane.”
Conrad knew Vane.
Former military intelligence.
Worked for August privately.
“Why?”
“Because Claire’s mother—Nora—sent something before she died.”
“What?”
“A ledger.”
“Where?”
Nathan shook his head.
“I don’t know. Claire does.”
Conrad remembered the fake employee badge.
Maybe Claire had not come simply to meet someone.
She had come looking for something.
“Why tonight?”
“Because twelve powerful families were in one room.”
Conrad understood.
Witnesses.
Media.
Security.
Claire thought she would be safer confronting someone publicly.
She had been wrong.
“Where would Vane take her?”
Nathan handed him a phone.
“Security footage from a street camera near the garage.”
A black SUV left Blackthorne Tower during the ninety-four-second camera outage.
License plate traced to a private company.
The address belonged to an abandoned waterfront warehouse.
Conrad moved.
Nathan caught his arm.
“There’s something else.”
“What?”
“You need to know why August arranged tonight.”
“The gala?”
“It was never about marriage.”
Conrad waited.
Nathan’s face hardened.
“The twelve women’s families are all tied to the accounts Evelyn uncovered.”
Conrad looked at him.
“The entire room?”
“Not the women necessarily. Their fathers. Their companies. Foundations. Banks.”
The bride-selection gala had been camouflage.
A way to bring everyone together.
Why?
“To make an alliance,” Conrad said.
Nathan nodded.
“Or choose who would protect him if the truth came out.”
Conrad remembered Vivian Harcourt.
Her father’s media empire.
Others from finance, shipping, pharmaceuticals, construction.
His father had created a defensive wall.
Then Claire walked into the middle of it.
“Emma chose the only person in that room who wasn’t part of his plan,” Conrad said.
Nathan almost smiled.
“Your daughter has interesting instincts.”
“And Bishop?”
“Better instincts.”
They left.
At the warehouse, Conrad refused to stay behind his team.
They entered through a side door.
Empty offices.
Rusting machinery.
A light glowed upstairs.
They found Claire tied to a chair.
Alive.
Conrad reached her.
“Claire.”
She looked up.
Shock.
Then relief.
“You came.”
He cut the restraints.
“Of course I came.”
Her eyes filled.
“My whole life Nora told me not to trust Vales.”
Conrad offered his hand.
“You can decide about me later.”
She took it.
Gunfire exploded downstairs.
Nathan shouted.
Security returned fire.
Conrad pulled Claire behind a concrete wall.
“Where’s Vane?”
“He left twenty minutes ago.”
“Why?”
“He got what he wanted.”
“What?”
Claire touched her collar.
The pendant was gone.
Conrad stared.
“What was inside it?”
“You know?”
“No. I guessed.”
Claire leaned against the wall.
“Nora told me never to open it unless she died.”
“What was inside?”
“A memory chip.”
“Containing?”
“I don’t know.”
“You didn’t look?”
“I tried. It was encrypted.”
“Then why did Vane want it?”
“Because he knows who can decrypt it.”
“Who?”
Claire looked toward Nathan.
Nathan went pale.
“Me.”
Conrad turned.
Nathan slowly removed his glasses.
“Evelyn created the encryption.”
“You helped her.”
“Yes.”
“Can you open it?”
“If Vane hasn’t destroyed it.”
Gunfire stopped.
A security officer appeared.
“Clear.”
Conrad stood.
“Find Vane.”
The officer hesitated.
“What?”
“We tracked his vehicle.”
“And?”
“It went back to Blackthorne Tower.”
Emma.
Conrad ran.
The drive felt endless.
He called Kane.
No answer.
Called again.
Nothing.
Security desk.
Nothing.
When Conrad reached the tower, lobby lights were flashing.
Guests had been evacuated.
Police cars surrounded the entrance.
He shoved through.
“Emma!”
A guard intercepted him.
“Sir—”
“Where is my daughter?”
“Seventy-sixth floor.”
“Why?”
“Your father refused evacuation.”
Conrad entered the private elevator with Claire and Nathan.
The doors opened onto the ballroom.
Half the chandelier lights were dark.
Broken glass covered the marble.
Bishop stood near the windows.
His fur was stained with blood.
“Bishop.”
The dog limped toward Conrad.
Not his blood.
Conrad’s heart hammered.
“Emma!”
A tiny voice answered.
“Daddy.”
Emma emerged from beneath a table.
Conrad crossed the room and lifted her.
She buried her face in his neck.
“You came back.”
“I told you I would.”
Claire dropped beside Bishop.
“You okay, big guy?”
The dog licked her hand.
Conrad looked around.
“Where’s Kane?”
Emma pointed toward the service corridor.
“He went after Grandpa.”
Conrad froze.
“Grandpa was here?”
Emma nodded.
“He was yelling at somebody.”
“Who?”
“A man.”
“Vane?”
“I don’t know.”
Claire stood.
“Where did they go?”
Emma pointed.
“My room.”
Conrad had a private family suite connected to the ballroom.
They moved together.
The door was open.
Inside, Kane lay unconscious.
Alive.
Nathan checked him.
“Pulse.”
Conrad searched.
No August.
No Vane.
On Emma’s bed was the pendant.
The back had been forced open.
The memory chip was gone.
Claire covered her mouth.
Then Emma tugged Conrad’s sleeve.
“Daddy?”
“What?”
“Grandpa dropped this.”
She held out a tiny black card.
The memory chip.
Conrad stared.
“You picked that up?”
Emma nodded.
“He said bad words.”
Nathan took the chip.
“If this is intact—”
The ballroom speakers suddenly activated.
August Vale’s voice filled the floor.
“Conrad.”
Everyone looked upward.
“Father?”
“You always did make things more difficult than necessary.”
Conrad’s jaw clenched.
“Where are you?”
“Come to the roof.”
“No.”
A pause.
Then a woman screamed through the speakers.
Claire went white.
Conrad recognized the voice even though he had not heard it in twelve years.
Evelyn.
August spoke again.
“Bring the chip.”
Conrad looked at Claire.
Her lips trembled.
“Mom?”
Another scream.
Then August said quietly:
May you like
“Come alone, Conrad, or this time your sister really dies.”
The speakers went silent.
