Chapter 13 - THE HOUSE THAT KEPT THE DEAD
By the time they reached the Vale estate, dawn was less than an hour away.
The mansion stood against the dark sky like it had been waiting for them.
No lights.
No staff.
No security at the gate.
That was wrong.
There were always guards at the Vale estate.
Even on Christmas.
Even during funerals.
Even when Charles claimed there was nothing left to be afraid of.
Lucien stopped the SUV twenty yards from the front steps.
Ava was asleep in the back seat, curled against Evelyn beneath Adrian’s coat.
Charles sat beside her, barely conscious.
His shirt was soaked with blood.
Adrian looked at the mansion.
“You expecting somebody?”
Charles gave a weak laugh.
“If I were, I wouldn’t be this scared.”
Lucien turned off the engine.
“Good.”
Adrian looked at him.
“What?”
“Maybe fear will finally make him honest.”
Charles closed his eyes.
Lucien got out.
Cold air hit his face.
Every muscle in his body hurt.
His knuckles were swollen.
Blood had dried along his jaw.
He hadn’t slept.
Hadn’t eaten.
Had barely processed the fact that his mother was alive, his daughter had been kidnapped, Victor was supposedly dead, and half his childhood was based on lies.
But one thought kept him moving.
His wife.
Claire.
For three years, Lucien had believed Claire died because a truck driver fell asleep behind the wheel.
Wrong place.
Wrong night.
Bad luck.
That was what the police report said.
That was what Charles said.
Lucien had believed both.
Now he hated himself for it.
Adrian stepped beside him.
“You don’t have to go inside alone.”
“I’m not.”
Lucien looked back at Ava.
“You stay with her.”
Adrian frowned.
“Lucien—”
“If something happens in that house, you get Ava out.”
“And your mother?”
“She goes too.”
Evelyn looked at him through the open door.
“I’m not leaving you again.”
Lucien stared at her.
The words landed harder than she probably intended.
Again.
He looked away.
“We’ll deal with us later.”
Evelyn nodded.
She understood.
Lucien turned to Charles.
“You’re coming.”
Charles opened his eyes.
“Of course I am.”
“No.”
Lucien leaned closer.
“You don’t get to sound brave now.”
Charles didn’t respond.
“You’re coming because whoever called me wants answers from you.”
A long silence.
Then Charles whispered, “You may not like the answers.”
Lucien opened the door.
“I stopped liking your answers twenty years ago.”
They crossed the lawn.
Lucien supported Charles on one side.
Charles limped badly.
At the front door, Lucien stopped.
It was open.
Just an inch.
Adrian saw it too.
“Trap.”
Lucien pushed it wider.
“Obviously.”
The entrance hall was dark.
No alarm.
No motion sensors.
No staff.
Then the lights came on.
Every chandelier.
Every lamp.
Every hallway.
All at once.
Charles froze.
A voice came through the house speakers.
“Welcome home.”
Lucien recognized it immediately.
The caller.
Older.
Smooth.
Almost cheerful.
“Who are you?” Lucien shouted.
The voice answered.
“Come to the dining room.”
Lucien looked at Charles.
His father’s face had gone pale.
“You know him.”
Charles didn’t answer.
Lucien grabbed his arm.
“You know that voice.”
Charles whispered one word.
“Marcus.”
Adrian stopped breathing.
Lucien looked between them.
“Marcus who?”
Charles seemed physically unable to answer.
Adrian did it for him.
“Marcus Kane.”
Lucien stared.
“Kane?”
Adrian nodded.
“Victor’s father.”
The lights in the hallway went out one by one.
A path remained illuminated toward the dining room.
Lucien gave Charles a cold look.
“Your friends really love theater.”
Charles didn’t smile.
They followed the light.
Every portrait along the wall seemed to watch them.
Charles as a young man.
Lucien as a child.
Family photographs.
Charity dinners.
Political events.
A perfect family.
A perfect lie.
Then Lucien stopped.
One photograph had been removed from the wall.
He knew exactly which one.
Claire.
Their wedding day.
He turned.
“Why is her picture gone?”
Nobody answered.
The dining-room doors opened.
A man sat at the far end of the twenty-foot table.
Silver hair.
Dark suit.
No weapon visible.
Marcus Kane looked older than Charles, but stronger.
Healthier.
Calmer.
And that made him more frightening.
On the table in front of him sat Claire’s wedding photograph.
Beside it was a small black box.
Marcus smiled.
“Lucien.”
Lucien remained standing.
“Where did you get that?”
“Sit.”
“No.”
Marcus looked amused.
“You are definitely Charles’s son.”
Lucien’s expression hardened.
“Don’t insult me.”
That made Adrian almost smile.
Charles didn’t.
Marcus gestured toward a chair.
“You came for the truth.”
“I came because you mentioned my wife.”
“Yes.”
“So talk.”
Marcus looked at Charles.
“Should I?”
Charles stepped forward despite the pain.
“Leave Claire out of this.”
Marcus laughed.
“Now you want to protect the dead?”
Lucien slowly turned toward his father.
“What did he mean?”
Charles remained silent.
Marcus opened the black box.
Inside was a flash drive.
He slid it across the table.
Lucien caught it.
“What is this?”
“Your wife’s insurance policy.”
Lucien frowned.
Marcus leaned back.
“Claire knew she was in danger.”
Lucien’s throat tightened.
“She never told me.”
“She tried.”
“No.”
“She did.”
Marcus pointed toward a laptop at the end of the table.
“Play it.”
Lucien hesitated.
Then inserted the drive.
A folder opened.
One video.
Date stamped six days before Claire died.
Lucien clicked.
Claire appeared on screen.
Alive.
Sitting in their old bedroom.
Her hair tied back.
No makeup.
Eyes red from crying.
Lucien stopped breathing.
“Lucien,” she said.
His hand tightened around the edge of the table.
“If you’re watching this, something happened to me.”
Charles looked away.
Lucien noticed.
Claire continued.
“I found something in your father’s files.”
Her voice shook.
“I thought it was financial fraud.”
She took a breath.
“It’s worse.”
Lucien stared at the screen.
“October seventeenth, 1998.”
Charles closed his eyes.
Claire held several documents toward the camera.
“Twenty-three people died in a warehouse fire outside Baltimore.”
She swallowed.
“The fire wasn’t an accident.”
Marcus watched Charles.
Claire continued.
“Charles ordered the building sealed before the fire started.”
Lucien turned slowly.
Charles said nothing.
Claire’s voice filled the room.
“There were employees inside.”
Lucien looked at his father.
“You locked people in?”
Charles whispered, “It wasn’t supposed to burn.”
Marcus laughed quietly.
Lucien slammed his palm on the table.
“Twenty-three people died!”
Charles’s voice cracked.
“I know.”
“You knew people were inside?”
“Yes.”
The word barely came out.
Lucien stared at him.
For once, there was no rage in his face.
Only disgust.
Marcus spoke.
“The warehouse contained evidence that would have destroyed Vale Industries.”
Charles looked at him.
“And your company.”
Marcus smiled.
“Ah.”
He turned to Lucien.
“There it is.”
Lucien frowned.
Marcus continued.
“Your father wasn’t alone.”
Silence.
“I was his partner.”
Lucien’s eyes narrowed.
“You helped him.”
“I designed the cleanup.”
Adrian stepped forward.
“You murdered twenty-three people.”
Marcus shrugged.
“Charles panicked.”
Charles shouted, “You ordered the doors chained!”
Marcus smiled.
“And you signed the authorization.”
Lucien looked between them.
Two old men.
Two empires.
Two monsters arguing over which one held the match.
“What does Claire have to do with it?”
Marcus’s smile disappeared.
“She found the original authorization.”
Lucien looked at Charles.
“And?”
Marcus answered.
“She gave Charles forty-eight hours to turn himself in.”
The room went silent.
Lucien’s pulse thudded in his ears.
Charles’s eyes filled with something Lucien had never seen before.
Shame.
Lucien whispered, “What did you do?”
Charles looked at him.
“I tried to convince her.”
“What did you do?”
“I told her I could fix it.”
Lucien stepped closer.
“What did you do?”
Charles’s voice broke.
“I called Marcus.”
Lucien stopped.
Marcus smiled.
“And Charles asked me to solve the problem.”
Lucien turned toward him.
Marcus lifted one finger.
“Careful.”
A red laser dot appeared on Lucien’s chest.
Then another.
Then another.
Snipers.
Lucien froze.
Marcus leaned forward.
“Your wife died because Charles made one phone call.”
Lucien stared at his father.
Charles whispered, “Lucien…”
“Did you know he would kill her?”
Charles couldn’t answer.
That was enough.
Lucien’s eyes burned.
“You called him.”
“Yes.”
“You gave him her name.”
“Yes.”
“You gave him her location.”
Charles started crying.
“Yes.”
Lucien hit him.
One punch.
Charles dropped beside the table.
Adrian moved forward.
Lucien raised one hand.
“Don’t.”
Charles stayed on the floor.
Lucien stood over him.
“I buried her.”
His voice cracked.
“You stood beside me at her funeral.”
Charles cried silently.
“You put your hand on my shoulder.”
Lucien’s breathing became uneven.
“You told me accidents happen.”
“I’m sorry.”
Lucien laughed.
There was nothing human in the sound.
“Sorry?”
He crouched.
“My daughter cried for her mother every night for six months.”
Charles covered his face.
“I know.”
“No.”
Lucien pulled his hand away.
“You don’t get to say you know.”
Behind them, the laptop video continued.
Claire spoke again.
“One more thing.”
Lucien turned.
Claire looked directly into the camera.
“If Charles tells you he killed me…”
Lucien froze.
“…don’t believe him.”
Everyone stopped.
Even Marcus.
Lucien stared at the screen.
Claire continued.
“He made terrible choices.”
A pause.
“But the man who wants me dead is Marcus Kane.”
Marcus’s smile vanished.
Claire lifted another document.
“And I have proof Charles tried to stop him.”
Lucien slowly turned.
Marcus was no longer relaxed.
Claire’s final words filled the room.
“Marcus Kane is going to blame your father.”
A pause.
“He’s been planning it for years.”
The video ended.
Nobody moved.
Then Marcus reached beneath the table.
Lucien saw it.
“DOWN!”
May you like
The dining room exploded with gunfire.
And the last war of the Vale family began.
