Chapter 8 - THE GRANDMOTHER WHO WASN’T DEAD
Victor moved Ethan and Sophie before sunset.
Not to a hotel.
Not to another Blackwood property.
Marcus took them to an isolated lakeside house owned through a company no one connected to Victor.
Only five people knew the address.
Victor.
Marcus.
Nora.
Martha.
And Damian.
At midnight, Damian arrived.
Victor had not seen his brother face-to-face in nine years.
Damian stepped through the door wearing jeans and a worn leather jacket.
He had a scar across his jaw.
His hair was longer.
His eyes were the same.
Victor stood across the room.
Neither spoke.
Then Ethan appeared from the hallway.
“Uncle Damian.”
Damian smiled.
“Hey, kid.”
Ethan ran to him.
Victor watched his estranged brother kneel and hug his son.
Something painful tightened in his chest.
Damian looked up.
“He’s a good kid.”
“I know.”
“You almost didn’t.”
Victor’s jaw tightened.
“I didn’t bring you here to fight.”
“No.”
“You brought me because everything I told you nine years ago suddenly sounds possible.”
Victor looked away.
Damian stood.
“Dad framed me.”
“I know.”
“No.”
“You know Martha said it.”
“You don’t know what it cost.”
Victor looked back.
“What do you want from me?”
“For now?”
Damian nodded toward the children.
“I want them alive.”
Victor accepted that.
They entered the kitchen.
Damian spread documents across the table.
The trust had been created by Victor and Damian’s mother, Isabelle Blackwood.
Her family had owned enormous tracts of downtown Chicago before her marriage.
The assets had grown for decades.
Estimated value: $3.8 billion.
Victor stared.
“Why didn’t I know?”
“Dad hid it.”
“He couldn’t touch it himself.”
“So he made sure nobody else knew either.”
Victor picked up the guardianship document.
Evelyn Montigue’s name appeared clearly.
“How?”
Damian tapped the signature.
“This is yours.”
Victor looked.
It was.
“Serena slipped it into the estate documents.”
“And Evelyn?”
“She’s been building toward this for years.”
Victor leaned back.
“Why?”
Damian looked at him.
“Because Evelyn believed your mother stole her life.”
Victor frowned.
“What are you talking about?”
“Evelyn and Dad had an affair.”
The kitchen went silent.
Victor stared.
Damian continued.
“Started before you were born.”
“Ended when Mom discovered it.”
Victor swallowed.
“Serena knew?”
“Eventually.”
Victor’s mind raced.
“Was Serena Dad’s daughter?”
Damian shook his head.
“No.”
“At least not according to DNA records I found.”
“Then what did Evelyn want?”
“Your mother gone.”
“Did she kill her?”
Damian hesitated.
Victor’s mother had died in a car crash when he was fourteen.
The brakes failed.
Victor saw the hesitation.
“Damian.”
“I don’t know.”
“But?”
“But Dad paid Charles Vale two hundred thousand dollars three days after Mom’s crash.”
Victor felt a cold rush through his body.
“For what?”
“No invoice.”
“No description.”
“Just a transfer.”
Victor stood.
He walked to the window.
For years, he had believed his mother’s death was an accident.
Then another thought struck him.
“Serena said she wanted revenge for her father.”
Damian laughed bitterly.
“Her father was no whistleblower.”
“What?”
“He worked with Dad.”
“Helped bury the chemical reports.”
Victor stared.
“Then Serena lied about everything.”
“Not everything.”
“Her father did lose everything.”
“Why?”
“Because Evelyn took the money and disappeared.”
Victor rubbed a hand over his face.
“So Serena grew up believing the Blackwoods ruined them.”
“Probably because that’s what Evelyn told her.”
A floorboard creaked in the hallway.
Both men turned.
Nora stood there holding Sophie.
“I’m sorry.”
Sophie was restless.
Victor took her.
Damian looked at the baby and smiled faintly.
“She looks like Mom.”
Victor looked down.
“She does.”
A phone vibrated on the table.
Damian checked it.
His face changed.
“What?”
“My contact at the police department.”
He showed Victor a message.
CHARLES VALE ESCAPED DURING TRANSFER.
Victor swore.
“How?”
“Fake ambulance.”
Marcus entered immediately.
“We leave now.”
Victor looked at him.
“How would Charles know where we are?”
“He shouldn’t.”
Then the lights outside suddenly came on.
Headlights.
At least four vehicles.
Marcus looked through the blinds.
His expression hardened.
“We’ve got company.”
Ethan appeared.
“Dad?”
Victor handed Sophie to Nora.
“Take the kids downstairs.”
Marcus pulled his weapon.
Damian did the same.
Victor looked at him.
“You carry a gun?”
“I learned after my own family tried to bury me.”
Someone outside shouted.
“VICTOR BLACKWOOD!”
Victor recognized the voice.
Charles Vale.
“COME OUT, OR WE BURN THE HOUSE!”
Ethan stared at his father.
Victor looked toward the basement door.
Then another voice came from outside.
Female.
Older.
Cold.
“Victor.”
Martha turned white.
Victor slowly looked toward the window.
The woman standing beside Charles was in her late sixties.
Elegant.
Silver-haired.
Beautiful.
May you like
Martha whispered:
“Evelyn.”
