Chapter 3 - THE MEN WHO REFUSED TO STAY DEAD
Alex stared at the photograph until the edges bent beneath his fingers.
Thomas Gene had been dead for eleven years.
Alex had seen the body.
Or he thought he had.
Closed casket after the viewing.
A gunshot wound had damaged half his face.
Dominic insisted Alex should remember his father as he had been, not as death left him.
Alex had accepted that.
Now he wondered whether that kindness had been another lie.
“When was this taken?” Nora asked.
Roman examined the metadata embedded in the print’s corner.
“Three weeks ago.”
Nora stopped breathing.
“My father.”
Daniel Ellis stood beside Thomas Gene outside what looked like an industrial building.
Both men older.
Both alive.
Alex turned toward Roman.
“Run the background.”
“Already did.”
“Location?”
“Not enough visible.”
“Find it.”
Roman nodded.
Nanya tugged Alex’s sleeve.
He looked down.
“Is that Grandpa?”
Alex’s throat tightened.
“Yes.”
“The one from your office picture?”
“Yes.”
“He’s supposed to be dead.”
Alex stared at her.
Nanya adjusted her glasses.
“Mama says dead people don’t take new pictures.”
Nora closed her eyes.
“She’s observant.”
“I noticed.”
Nanya looked at the photograph again.
“Who’s the other man?”
Nora’s face changed.
“My dad.”
Nanya’s mouth opened.
“Grandpa Daniel?”
Nora nodded.
The girl thought about this.
Then:
“Our family is weird.”
Alex almost laughed.
“Apparently.”
Roman returned to the security console.
He pulled up records from Thomas Gene’s death.
Car attack.
Queens.
Thomas was transported to a Gene-owned trauma clinic.
Declared dead at 2:17 a.m.
The attending physician:
Dr. Warren Slate.
Alex knew him.
Slate later became director of Gene Medical Charities.
Retired four years ago.
Current location unknown.
“Find him.”
Roman nodded.
Nora looked at Alex.
“If Thomas survived, why would he leave you?”
The question cut.
Alex walked toward the window.
Because that was the part he did not want to ask.
If his father lived, why had he allowed a sixteen-year-old son to believe he was dead?
Why leave Alex with Dominic?
Why let him become exactly the man Thomas once said he feared Alex would become?
Nora approached carefully.
“Alex.”
He didn’t turn.
“He might have had a reason.”
“That phrase is becoming popular.”
“I know.”
“No.”
He turned.
“You lost your father.”
“I apparently lost mine too.”
“But you had Nanya.”
Nora flinched.
Alex immediately regretted the sentence.
Again.
He ran a hand over his face.
“Forget it.”
“I didn’t have you.”
Silence.
Alex looked at her.
Nora’s eyes filled.
“I had our daughter.”
“Yes.”
“I loved her more than anything.”
“Yes.”
“But I spent eight years knowing the one person who should have watched her first steps, heard her first word, taught her how to ride a bike…”
Her voice broke.
“…didn’t even know she existed.”
Alex stared.
Nora continued.
“Do you think that didn’t hurt me?”
“Then why didn’t you come back?”
“Because every time I tried, someone found us.”
Alex’s anger cooled.
“Every time?”
“When Nanya was two, I sent you a letter.”
“I never got it.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“Dominic mailed it back.”
Alex stopped.
“What?”
“He included a photograph of you leaving Gene Tower.”
“And a note.”
“What note?”
Nora looked down.
“He said, ‘He has accepted your decision. Let him live.’”
Alex’s face became stone.
“When she was four, I called.”
“What happened?”
“A man answered your private number.”
“Dominic?”
“No.”
“Who?”
“Mason Burke.”
Alex stared.
The supposedly dead bodyguard.
Nora continued.
“He said if I ever called again, Nanya would grow up without a mother.”
Roman looked over.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“I found something.”
He turned the monitor.
A payment network.
Three Shell corporations.
All connected to Mason Burke.
The funds originated from Gene Medical Charities.
Authorized by:
D. GENE.
Dominic.
Alex felt cold.
But then Roman zoomed in.
A secondary approval signature appeared beneath Dominic’s.
T. GENE.
Thomas.
Alex’s father.
Current date.
Three months ago.
Nora whispered:
“No.”
Alex said nothing.
If authentic, Thomas wasn’t simply alive.
He was still financing the same system Dominic used.
Roman looked grim.
“Could be forged.”
“Could be.”
Alex’s voice hardened.
“Assume nothing.”
A new notification appeared.
Roman opened it.
Dr. Warren Slate’s last known property.
Rural Pennsylvania.
A private rehabilitation center called Haven Cross.
Alex looked at Nora.
“You stay here.”
She laughed once.
“No.”
“Nora.”
“My father may be connected.”
“And there may be armed men there.”
“That has been true everywhere I’ve lived for eight years.”
“Nanya stays.”
“Obviously.”
Alex looked at Roman.
“Double security.”
Nanya appeared in the doorway.
“I heard that.”
Nora sighed.
“You are supposed to be watching cartoons.”
“They got boring.”
Alex crouched.
“We have to go somewhere.”
Nanya looked between them.
“You’re leaving me?”
The fear came fast.
Too fast.
Alex’s chest tightened.
“No.”
“You said—”
“I’m coming back.”
Nanya stared.
People had probably said that before.
Alex understood.
He removed his watch.
Expensive.
Custom.
Never left his wrist.
He handed it to her.
Nanya frowned.
“What’s this?”
“My favorite watch.”
“It’s huge.”
“Yes.”
“You want me to hold it?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I have to come back for it.”
Nora looked away quickly.
Nanya studied the watch.
Then wrapped both hands around it.
“Okay.”
She looked serious.
“But if you die, I’m selling it.”
Alex almost smiled.
“Fair.”
They reached Haven Cross after midnight.
The facility looked abandoned.
Roman’s team entered first.
No guards.
No staff.
One basement light.
Inside they found Dr. Slate.
Alive.
Terrified.
He raised both hands.
“I knew someone would come.”
Alex stepped forward.
“Where is my father?”
Slate’s face changed.
“Which one?”
Alex froze.
“What?”
Slate looked toward Nora.
Then back.
“You think Thomas Gene was the only man whose death I falsified?”
Nora stopped breathing.
“My father.”
Slate nodded.
“Daniel Ellis too.”
Alex’s voice became cold.
“Why?”
“Because Thomas ordered it.”
Silence.
Nora stared.
“Thomas saved my father?”
Slate shook his head.
“No.”
“He used him.”
“For what?”
Slate sat heavily.
“For the ledger.”
Alex’s stomach tightened.
“What ledger?”
Slate laughed bitterly.
“You still don’t know.”
“No.”
“The reason Thomas tried to leave the family.”
He looked at Nora.
“The reason Daniel hid you.”
Then toward Alex.
“And the reason Dominic has been waiting eight years for your daughter to turn nine.”
Nora went pale.
“Nanya’s birthday is in three months.”
Slate nodded.
“Exactly.”
Alex stepped closer.
“What happens when she turns nine?”
Slate’s voice dropped.
“The Gene Blood Trust opens.”
Alex had never heard the name.
“Who controls it?”
“No one.”
“What does that mean?”
“It was created by your grandfather.”
“Funds locked until Thomas produced a biological grandchild.”
Alex stared.
“How much?”
Slate laughed weakly.
“Money isn’t what Dominic wants.”
“Then what?”
“The trust owns original books.”
“What books?”
“Every payment.”
“Every officer.”
“Every judge.”
“Every protected politician.”
“Every trafficking route Thomas discovered.”
Nora covered her mouth.
Slate continued.
“Thomas embedded control of the archive in one condition.”
Alex whispered:
“Nanya.”
Slate nodded.
“Her DNA unlocks the trust.”
Then a gunshot shattered the basement window.
Slate jerked backward.
Blood spread across his chest.
Nora screamed.
Roman dragged Alex down.
Another shot hit the wall.
Slate gasped.
Alex crawled toward him.
“Who fired?”
Slate struggled to breathe.
“Not Dominic.”
“What?”
“Thomas…”
Alex froze.
Slate grabbed his jacket.
“Your father…”
Blood filled his mouth.
May you like
“…doesn’t want the trust opened either.”
Then he died.
