Chapter 9 - My Mother's Killer Was in the Room
I looked at Victor.
He looked away.
That was enough.
Not proof.
But guilt has a rhythm.
People think guilty men always panic.
Sometimes they become too still.
Victor had gone completely still.
“What did he do?”
Anthony smiled.
“You want answers?”
“Yes.”
“Then tell Damian to stop surrounding the building.”
My blood ran cold.
He knew.
Of course he knew.
I touched my collar instinctively.
Anthony laughed.
“Do you think I survived fifteen years by trusting silence?”
He reached forward.
Before I could step away, he pulled the transmitter from beneath my collar.
He crushed it beneath his shoe.
Somewhere outside, Damian had just lost us.
Victor grabbed my arm.
I jerked free.
“Don't touch me.”
Anthony raised one hand.
Victor stopped.
“Your mother was brave,” Anthony said.
“You don't get to talk about her like you admired her.”
“I did admire her.”
“You had her killed.”
“No.”
I stared.
He turned toward Victor.
“My son did.”
Victor's face changed.
“You said—”
Anthony interrupted.
“I said what was necessary.”
Victor took a step toward him.
“You promised—”
“Enough.”
The power between them shifted in an instant.
Victor was not a partner.
He was a servant.
I saw the realization hit him too.
Anthony had spent years convincing Victor he would inherit everything.
But men like Anthony did not create heirs.
They created tools.
“What happened?” I asked.
Anthony's gaze returned to me.
“Rebecca planned to leave Chicago with evidence.”
“And Victor stopped her.”
“He was nineteen.”
Victor snapped.
“She was destroying the family!”
His voice echoed through the abandoned room.
There it was.
Confession.
Not complete.
But enough.
I looked at him.
“You killed my mother when you were nineteen?”
“She ran.”
“You killed her.”
“She pulled a knife.”
Anthony laughed quietly.
Victor turned.
“Shut up.”
Anthony looked almost amused.
“She had no knife.”
Victor's face went pale.
“You told me—”
“I told you what helped you sleep.”
I felt sick.
Victor had been a boy molded by Anthony.
But my sympathy stopped at the grave of a woman I barely remembered.
“Why did Evelyn die?”
Anthony's smile disappeared.
This time Victor answered.
“She found out.”
Damian's mother had learned the truth.
She had hidden evidence.
Protected me.
And then she had died.
“You killed her too?”
Victor shook his head.
“No.”
Anthony looked at him.
Victor's face twisted.
“No.”
The silence told me the answer.
Anthony had.
His own wife.
I looked at him.
“You murdered Evelyn.”
“She betrayed me.”
“She protected children from you.”
“She weakened the family.”
I finally understood something important.
This man did not love family.
He loved obedience wearing the shape of family.
Isabelle cried again.
That sound sharpened everything.
I did not need every answer tonight.
I needed her alive.
“Let Isabelle go.”
Anthony smiled.
“Why would I?”
“Because you want Damian.”
“I have Damian.”
“No.”
Something in my voice made him pause.
“You think he still wants your approval.”
Victor watched me.
Anthony's expression cooled.
I continued.
“You think this is about control. Making him come here. Making him choose.”
“He will choose.”
“Yes.”
“He always does.”
“You don't know him anymore.”
Anthony's eyes narrowed.
I stepped closer.
“Damian refused to trade me.”
For the first time, Anthony's expression truly changed.
I saw it.
Shock.
Small.
Real.
“What?”
“He chose neither of us.”
I smiled.
“He decided to save both.”
A crash exploded from the far side of the building.
Gunfire followed.
Not chaotic.
Controlled.
Marcus.
Damian.
Anthony's men scattered.
Victor grabbed Isabelle's crib.
I lunged.
“No!”
He shoved me hard.
I hit the wall.
Pain exploded through my shoulder.
Anthony shouted something.
Then smoke filled the corridor.
Sprinklers activated.
Water poured from the ceiling.
I crawled toward Isabelle.
Victor pulled the crib through a doorway.
I grabbed its metal frame.
He kicked my hand away.
Then someone hit him from behind.
Damian.
Victor crashed against the wall.
Damian didn't chase him.
He grabbed Isabelle.
That told me everything about him.
The old Damian might have chosen revenge.
This Damian chose his daughter.
He handed her to me.
“Get out.”
“What about you?”
“Clara.”
“No.”
“Marcus!”
Marcus appeared.
Damian shoved us toward him.
“Take them.”
I looked back.
Anthony stood at the end of the corridor.
For the first time, father and son faced each other.
Anthony smiled.
“My boy.”
Damian's expression held nothing.
“You stopped being my father the day you turned my family into weapons.”
Then Victor lunged.
Not at Damian.
At Anthony.
He had finally understood that he had been used.
The two men crashed into a railing.
Damian moved forward.
A support beam groaned.
The old hospital had been decaying for years.
Water, smoke and panic finished what time had started.
Part of the ceiling collapsed between us.
“Damian!”
Marcus pulled me back.
“We need to move!”
“No!”
Another section fell.
Dust filled the corridor.
Isabelle screamed in my arms.
Through the smoke, I saw Damian's silhouette disappear.
Then nothing.
Marcus dragged me toward the exit.
Outside, emergency vehicles surrounded the building.
I clutched Isabelle and stared at the doors.
One minute passed.
Two.
Three.
No Damian.
I started toward the building.
Marcus blocked me.
“Absolutely not.”
“My brother is inside.”
The word escaped before I could stop it.
Brother.
Marcus looked at me.
Then toward the entrance.
At four minutes, Victor stumbled out.
Blood on his face.
Alone.
Police grabbed him.
I rushed forward.
“Where is Damian?”
Victor laughed.
“He chose wrong.”
My heart stopped.
Then a figure emerged through the smoke.
Damian.
Carrying Anthony.
His father was unconscious.
Damian himself could barely walk.
He had saved him.
Not from love.
Not from forgiveness.
Because he wanted Anthony alive to face what he had done.
Damian collapsed twenty feet from me.
I handed Isabelle to Marcus and ran.
I dropped beside him.
His eyes opened.
“Bella?”
“Safe.”
He exhaled.
Then looked at me.
“You?”
“Still annoying.”
A weak smile.
“Good.”
I grabbed his hand.
For the first time in my life, I held onto family without expecting it to disappear.
But as paramedics surrounded us, Anthony opened his eyes.
He looked directly at me.
And smiled.
“You still don't know,” he whispered.
I leaned closer.
“Know what?”
His smile widened.
“Why Evelyn chose you.”
May you like
Then he lost consciousness.
And I realized our worst secret had not been revealed yet.
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