Chapter 6 - THE SECRET VINCENT CARRIED
I couldn't breathe.
Vincent stared at the photograph.
For the first time since I had met him, the most feared man in Boston looked genuinely afraid.
“You knew,” I whispered.
He didn't answer.
“Vincent.”
His jaw tightened.
“I suspected.”
“You knew my mother.”
“Yes.”
“You knew me.”
“No.”
The answer came too quickly.
I stepped closer.
“Then explain the photograph.”
Vincent looked at it.
“Your mother brought you to my father's house once.”
“When?”
“You were a few months old.”
I stared at him.
“My father told everyone your mother was dead.”
“She wasn't.”
“Where is she?”
Vincent looked away.
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“I wish I were.”
The figure in the hallway suddenly moved.
Leo raised his gun.
“Don't.”
The man slowly removed the black coat.
It wasn't Dr. Price.
It was Marcus Hale.
Older.
Thinner.
A scar ran from his temple to his jaw.
But the face in the photograph was unmistakable.
He raised both hands.
“I didn't come here to kill him.”
Leo aimed at his chest.
“You've been poisoning my boss.”
Marcus shook his head.
“I've been trying to stop them from poisoning him.”
He looked at me.
“And I've been trying to keep you alive.”
I stared at him.
“Why?”
“Because your mother made me promise.”
He reached into his pocket.
Not for a weapon.
For a small brass key.
He placed it on the floor.
“Your mother hid something.”
Vincent stepped forward.
“What?”
Marcus looked at him.
“The truth.”
Leo laughed bitterly.
“You expect us to trust you?”
“No.”
Marcus's eyes remained on Vincent.
“I expect him to remember.”
Vincent's face tightened.
Marcus continued.
“Six years ago, Vincent discovered someone inside the organization was selling information.”
“I know.”
“No. You know what they wanted you to believe.”
Marcus pointed toward the red book.
“The accounts weren't about money.”
“Then what?”
“Medical control.”
My stomach tightened.
Marcus explained that several people had been manipulating Vincent's medical records for years.
Small things.
Allergies changed.
Blood types flagged incorrectly.
Medication warnings removed.
Doctors pressured.
The goal wasn't simply to kill Vincent.
It was to create a medical record that would make his eventual death appear natural.
“Why?”
Marcus looked at Vincent.
“Because if you die without a clear successor, the organization fractures.”
Leo understood.
“War.”
Marcus nodded.
“Exactly.”
I looked at the brass key.
“What does this open?”
“A box.”
“Where?”
Marcus looked at Vincent.
“Your father's old study.”
Vincent went still.
“My father destroyed that room.”
“No.”
Marcus shook his head.
“He sealed it.”
The distinction mattered.
Leo turned toward Vincent.
“You knew?”
Vincent slowly nodded.
“My father told me never to open it.”
“Why?”
“He said some truths were more dangerous than bullets.”
I almost laughed.
“My entire life has been built around lies.”
Vincent looked at me.
“I know.”
“No, you don't.”
I held up the photograph.
“My father told me I was worthless because he had debts.”
Vincent stepped closer.
“He never believed that.”
“How would you know?”
“Because he told me the opposite.”
I stopped.
“What?”
Vincent's voice softened.
“He said you were the smartest person he'd ever met.”
Tears burned my eyes.
I turned away.
I didn't want him to see.
Marcus watched silently.
Then he said, “There is one more thing.”
Vincent looked at him.
“What?”
“The person behind this knows she saved you.”
Marcus pointed at me.
“And now they know she can recognize the medications.”
Leo's expression hardened.
“So she becomes a liability.”
Marcus nodded.
“More than that.”
He looked at me.
“She becomes the only person who can prove what happened.”
The room fell silent.
Then something crashed upstairs.
Leo immediately drew his weapon.
A man shouted from the hallway.
“THE SAFE!”
Vincent's eyes widened.
“My father's study.”
Everyone ran.
The old study door was open.
Inside, shelves had been overturned.
The wall behind the desk was exposed.
A rectangular cavity had been cut into the wood.
The safe was gone.
Marcus stared at the empty space.
“They got there first.”
Leo turned toward him.
“Who?”
Marcus didn't answer.
I noticed something on the floor.
A tiny brass object.
I picked it up.
It was a cuff link.
Black enamel.
Engraved with a single letter.
C.
Vincent stared at it.
“Cross.”
Nathaniel Cross.
The name from the red book.
Leo reached for his phone.
“I'm calling the men.”
Vincent stopped him.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because if Cross knows we found the book, he'll expect us to come after him.”
Vincent looked at me.
“We don't chase him.”
I frowned.
“What do we do?”
He looked toward the missing safe.
“We make him come to us.”
Marcus shook his head.
“You can't.”
Vincent stared at him.
“Why?”
“Because Cross isn't the one in charge.”
Marcus's voice dropped.
“The man above him is.”
Vincent's face changed.
“Who?”
Marcus looked at me.
May you like
Then he said:
“Your mother.”
