Chapter 6 - THE MAN BESIDE THE BOSS
Nobody moved.
Victor looked at Eleanor.
Eleanor looked back.
Then she shook her head.
“No.”
Alessandro's voice was dangerously quiet.
“You just said his name.”
“I said he was the man Daniel suspected.”
Victor stepped forward.
“Eleanor.”
She raised the watch.
“Evan spent years trying to prove it.”
I stared at Victor.
My heart was beating so hard it hurt.
“You're my father?”
Victor's face crumpled.
“No.”
The answer came instantly.
Too instantly.
Eleanor spoke again.
“Daniel believed Victor was Claire's biological father.”
Victor looked at me.
“But Daniel never confirmed it.”
I felt relief and confusion at the same time.
“So you don't know?”
“No.”
Victor swallowed.
“I knew your mother.”
“You knew her?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“She worked with Daniel.”
“And you?”
Victor looked away.
“I was twenty-four.”
His voice was quiet.
“I was already working for Alessandro's father.”
Alessandro stared at him.
“You never told me.”
“There were things your father ordered me never to discuss.”
“And Claire?”
Victor looked at me.
“I didn't know she existed.”
That hurt.
But Eleanor wasn't finished.
“Evan found another name.”
She placed a piece of paper on the table.
MARCUS REED.
I recognized the name.
“Detective Reed?”
Eleanor nodded.
“He was assigned to Daniel's disappearance.”
Alessandro's face darkened.
“He closed the case.”
“Too quickly.”
Victor picked up the paper.
“He was paid.”
“By Thomas?”
“No.”
Eleanor looked at him.
“By someone who wanted Thomas protected.”
The room fell silent.
I turned toward the window.
“I don't understand.”
Eleanor came closer.
“Neither did Evan at first.”
She explained slowly.
The network wasn't controlled by one family.
It was a system.
Three people had controlled different pieces.
Victor Romano handled protection.
Robert Bell handled transportation.
Thomas Grant handled information.
But someone else had access to the records.
Police.
Courts.
Hospitals.
Government databases.
That person could erase identities.
Change reports.
Make people disappear without physically touching them.
“Marcus Reed,” I whispered.
Eleanor nodded.
“But he wasn't the mastermind.”
“Then who?”
She looked at the watch.
“That's what Evan died trying to prove.”
I frowned.
“You said he died of a heart attack.”
“He did.”
There was no dramatic secret.
No murder.
Just an old man whose heart finally gave out after years of fear.
“But before he died,” she continued, “he hid evidence.”
“Where?”
Eleanor looked at the gold watch.
“You're holding it.”
I opened the back.
Nothing.
She smiled sadly.
“Turn the crown three times.”
I did.
A tiny compartment opened.
Inside was a narrow piece of microfilm.
Again.
I stared.
“Another one?”
Eleanor nodded.
“This one contains bank transfers.”
Alessandro took it.
Victor looked over his shoulder.
“There.”
A name repeated across several years.
THOMAS GRANT.
But beneath it were dozens of payments.
To judges.
Police officers.
Hospital administrators.
Politicians.
And one name appeared more than any other.
MARCUS REED.
Alessandro looked at me.
“This is enough to bring him down.”
“No,” Eleanor said.
“Why?”
“Because Reed isn't the person Thomas fears.”
I looked at her.
“Who is?”
She hesitated.
“Someone who was never supposed to be part of this.”
The door opened.
A man in a dark suit stepped inside.
Everyone reached for weapons.
He raised his hands.
“Don't shoot.”
Alessandro stared.
“Detective Reed.”
Marcus Reed looked exhausted.
Older than his photographs.
“I need five minutes.”
“You get thirty seconds.”
Reed looked at me.
“Claire, your mother lied about one thing.”
My chest tightened.
“What?”
“Daniel wasn't your biological father.”
“I know.”
Reed nodded.
“But Victor Russo isn't your biological father either.”
Victor stared at him.
“Then who is?”
Reed looked at the microfilm.
“That's the wrong question.”
I stepped forward.
“What should I ask?”
“Why did Thomas need you alive?”
Silence.
Reed continued.
“Because you're not valuable because of your blood.”
I frowned.
“Then why?”
“Because your mother left something with you.”
“What?”
“A memory.”
I shook my head.
“I don't understand.”
“When you were six, your mother took you to a church.”
I stared at him.
“I went to church all the time.”
“Not this one.”
He pulled out a photograph.
It showed my mother holding my hand.
Beside her was a little boy.
Maybe eight.
I recognized him.
It was Alessandro.
Younger.
Standing beside his father.
My mother's handwriting was on the back.
THE CHILDREN REMEMBER WHAT THE ADULTS FORGET.
I looked at Alessandro.
“You knew me?”
He shook his head.
“No.”
Reed said, “You met once.”
“Where?”
“At a Christmas party.”
I remembered.
A red dress.
A tree.
A boy who gave me a small wooden horse.
I had forgotten his face.
But I remembered the horse.
I looked at Alessandro.
“Where is it?”
His expression changed.
“You still have it?”
I nodded slowly.
“It was in my mother's house.”
Reed whispered—
“Then Thomas has been looking for the wrong object.”
I turned.
“What does that mean?”
Reed's eyes moved to the watch.
“The microfilm isn't the evidence.”
“Then what is?”
May you like
He looked at me.
“The horse.”
