Chapter 3 - THE LOCKET MY MOTHER LEFT BEHIND
“They're already inside.”
Ethan pulled me through a narrow doorway hidden behind a bookshelf.
I had lived in this house for three months.
I had never known it existed.
The door closed behind us.
Darkness swallowed the room.
“Stay close.”
I could hear Ethan breathing.
“Are you armed?”
“Yes.”
“How many people are with us?”
“Brian and six guards.”
“Enough?”
“No.”
That answer frightened me more than the gunshots.
We moved down a narrow concrete corridor.
At the end was another steel door.
Ethan entered a code.
The door opened.
A small room appeared beyond it.
There were monitors, emergency supplies, weapons locked behind glass, and a second exit leading underground.
I looked at him.
“You built this because of the Russos?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
“My father.”
He closed the door.
“He expected someone to come after our family.”
I looked at the locket.
“Your father knew my mother.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Ethan sat beside the monitors.
“My father and your mother worked together.”
“Doing what?”
“Moving people.”
I frowned.
“What people?”
“Witnesses.”
He explained that years ago, before Ethan inherited his father's organization, his father had used the shipping network to secretly move witnesses out of Chicago.
People who knew too much.
People who were being hunted.
My mother had helped coordinate safe houses.
My father had provided routes.
The operation had eventually collapsed.
Several witnesses disappeared.
My mother died a year later.
My father never spoke about it.
I touched the locket.
“What was inside the photograph?”
“Look at the back.”
I turned it over.
There were tiny numbers etched into the metal.
I read them aloud.
“Eight. Fourteen. Three.”
Ethan nodded.
“That is why your father gave me the locket.”
“To decode it?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“He told me to protect it until you were ready.”
I stared at him.
“Ready for what?”
“For the truth.”
A loud impact shook the steel door.
I jumped.
Ethan stood immediately.
Brian's voice came through the intercom.
“Boss, we have two down.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“How many outside?”
“Four confirmed.”
Ethan looked at me.
“Stay here.”
“No.”
“Jane.”
“You just told me I deserve the truth.”
He stared at me.
“Then don't shut me out now.”
Another impact.
Ethan finally nodded.
He opened a second compartment.
Inside were several old files.
He handed me one.
“Read.”
The folder contained shipping records from fifteen years earlier.
One name appeared repeatedly.
MARGARET CARTER.
My mother.
Another name appeared beside hers.
ELENA CARTER.
Ethan's mother.
I looked at him.
“Our mothers knew each other too?”
“Yes.”
“Were they friends?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“Partners.”
The word hit me.
“Partners in what?”
Ethan looked away.
“They were trying to expose the Russo family.”
I stopped breathing.
My mother's death suddenly felt different.
“What happened?”
“They discovered that someone inside the shipping network was selling information.”
“To the Russos?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“We never found out.”
I turned another page.
There was a photograph.
My mother.
Ethan's mother.
My father.
And another man.
I recognized him immediately.
Derek.
Ethan's cousin.
My stomach dropped.
“Derek was there.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
The door shook again.
Then silence.
Too much silence.
Ethan looked at the monitor.
“That's wrong.”
“What?”
“The guards stopped responding.”
He reached for his gun.
“Stay here.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“If something happens to me—”
“I don't want instructions.”
“Jane.”
“I want answers.”
For one second, something softened in his eyes.
Then he said,
“Stay behind me.”
We opened the door.
The corridor was empty.
One guard lay unconscious near the stairs.
Another was bleeding but alive.
Ethan moved quickly.
Then I saw something on the floor.
A small white envelope.
My name was written on it.
I picked it up.
Ethan grabbed my wrist.
“Don't.”
“You said I deserve the truth.”
“This isn't the truth.”
“Then what is it?”
He looked at the envelope.
“Bait.”
I opened it anyway.
Inside was a photograph.
It showed me as a child.
Standing beside my mother.
The photograph had been taken outside our old house.
On the back were four words.
SHE KNEW ABOUT YOU.
My hands went cold.
“What does that mean?”
Ethan stared at the picture.
“I don't know.”
Then he noticed something.
The edge of the photograph had been folded.
He opened it.
A second image was hidden behind it.
This one showed my mother holding a baby.
The baby was me.
But beside her stood another woman.
Ethan's mother.
And behind them was a man.
My father.
The photograph was dated two weeks before my mother's death.
I looked at Ethan.
“My mother wasn't alone.”
“No.”
“Who was the baby?”
“You.”
“Then why is there another woman holding me?”
Ethan's face changed.
“I don't know.”
A voice came from the corridor.
“Actually, I do.”
We turned.
Derek stood at the far end.
He wasn't holding a gun.
His hands were raised.
“Derek?”
He looked exhausted.
“I didn't come here to hurt you.”
Ethan aimed his weapon.
“You have five seconds.”
Derek looked at me.
“Your mother was hiding you.”
“From who?”
He swallowed.
“From the man who ordered her death.”
The room went silent.
Ethan stepped forward.
“Who?”
Derek looked at him.
“Your father.”
I stared at him.
Ethan's face went completely still.
Derek continued.
“And that's why your father made Ethan marry you.”
My heart stopped.
Because suddenly the marriage wasn't about territory.
It wasn't about business.
It wasn't even about the Russos.
May you like
It was about two families hiding the same terrible secret.
And Derek had just accused Ethan's dead father of killing my mother.
