Chapter 8 - THE OLD HOUSE
The old Marlowe estate stood on a hill above the river.
Rain hammered the roof.
Windows were dark.
The house looked dead.
But lights moved behind the curtains.
Vincent stopped the car.
“You stay behind me.”
“No.”
He gave me a look.
“I mean it.”
“I know.”
We entered through the basement.
Marcus disabled the alarm.
Daniel stayed outside with the federal agents my mother had contacted.
Vincent and I moved upstairs.
A guard appeared.
Vincent disarmed him silently.
Another.
Marcus handled him.
Then we heard Evan.
“Dad!”
Vincent ran.
I followed.
Evan was tied to a chair in the ballroom.
Blood covered his shirt.
But he was alive.
Evelyn stood behind him.
She was older than the photograph.
But unmistakably elegant.
“Hello, Vincent.”
He raised his weapon.
“Let him go.”
Evelyn smiled.
“You always were impatient.”
“Let him go.”
“You've spent your entire life trying to escape me.”
Vincent's jaw tightened.
“You failed.”
“No.”
She looked at me.
“I succeeded.”
I stepped forward.
“You want me.”
“Yes.”
“Then let Evan go.”
Evelyn laughed softly.
“You sound like your father.”
“My father survived you.”
“For now.”
She nodded toward the table.
A scanner waited there.
“Your blood.”
I stepped closer.
Vincent grabbed my wrist.
“No.”
Evelyn sighed.
“Vincent, if you don't let her do this, Evan dies.”
Evan shook his head.
“Don't.”
I looked at him.
He was terrified.
Not for himself.
For me.
I walked toward the scanner.
Vincent whispered my name.
I kept walking.
I placed my hand on the device.
A needle pierced my finger.
One drop of blood fell.
The machine activated.
A hidden wall opened.
Behind it was a vault.
Evelyn smiled.
“Finally.”
But before she could move, the lights exploded.
Federal agents stormed the room.
“Federal police!”
Chaos erupted.
Vincent pulled me down.
Gunfire cracked through the ballroom.
Marcus shot two guards.
Daniel dragged Evan away.
Evelyn disappeared through the vault.
Vincent and I followed.
The vault contained hundreds of files.
Photographs.
Hard drives.
Documents.
Names.
Everything.
I saw politicians.
Judges.
Police commissioners.
Business owners.
Then I saw one file.
CLAIRE MERCER.
I opened it.
Inside was a photograph of me at nineteen.
Beside it was another photograph.
Evan.
And another.
Vincent.
The file contained twelve years of surveillance.
Every apartment I'd lived in.
Every school.
Every job.
Every relationship.
Every conversation.
My hands shook.
“She watched me.”
Vincent nodded.
“She watched all of us.”
Then we heard footsteps.
Evelyn stood at the far end of the vault.
She held a gun to Evan's head.
“Drop your weapon.”
Vincent did.
“Good.”
She looked at me.
“You think this ends tonight?”
I stared at her.
“No.”
She smiled.
“You're right.”
Then she pulled the trigger.
Vincent moved.
The gunshot echoed.
Evan fell.
“NO!”
Vincent caught him.
Blood spread across Evan's shirt.
I screamed.
Evelyn ran.
I followed.
She disappeared into a corridor.
I found myself standing in a room filled with old family photographs.
Then I saw the final photograph.
Evelyn holding a baby.
The baby was me.
Beside her stood my mother.
And Vincent.
Young.
Confused.
My father had been standing behind them.
On the back was a handwritten message.
CLAIRE WAS NEVER THE TARGET.
SHE WAS THE HEIR.
My blood went cold.
“Heir to what?”
A voice answered behind me.
“The Marlowe empire.”
I turned.
Evelyn stood there.
She smiled.
May you like
“You were never supposed to work for Vincent.”
“You were supposed to inherit everything.”
