Chapter 2 - THE HEIR THEY WANTED DEAD
:
I had never been afraid of Victor Hale.
Not until that night.
Victor had advised my father.
He had negotiated with rivals.
He had saved our company from hostile takeovers.
He knew every weakness in every family in Chicago.
He was supposed to be loyal.
Now he was standing outside my sister's apartment demanding a newborn child.
“Gabriel,” Clara whispered, “don't let him see the baby.”
“Why?”
“Because if he confirms the bloodline, he'll kill him.”
I looked down at the child in my arms.
He had stopped crying.
His tiny fingers curled around the edge of my shirt.
“You're telling me my nephew is the reason you've been hiding?”
Clara nodded.
“The boy has something they need.”
“What?”
“His DNA.”
That answer made no sense.
Clara closed her eyes.
“My father created a succession trust.”
I went still.
“Our father?”
“Yes.”
“What does that have to do with a baby?”
“The trust was locked to the direct male Sterling line.”
She swallowed.
“When the heir was born, the lock would become transferable.”
“To whom?”
“The child.”
I stared at her.
“That doesn't explain why Victor wants him dead.”
Clara's voice became weaker.
“Because the trust doesn't contain money.”
“What does it contain?”
“Evidence.”
I felt the air leave the room.
“What kind of evidence?”
“Everything.”
She looked toward the door.
“Bribery records. Secret accounts. Political payments. Names of judges. Names of police officials. Proof that half the city has been controlled by our family for decades.”
I looked at the baby again.
“So the child is the key to exposing the entire empire.”
“Yes.”
“And Victor wants to destroy the key.”
“Yes.”
I stood.
The footsteps outside moved closer.
Maya whispered:
“Mr. Gabriel?”
I turned.
She was holding the second baby.
“Are we in trouble?”
I looked at her.
“Not anymore.”
I opened the door.
Victor stood in the hallway with four men.
He was dressed in an elegant navy overcoat.
He looked exactly as he always had.
Calm.
Professional.
Almost grandfatherly.
“Gabriel.”
“Victor.”
His eyes drifted toward the room.
“I'm relieved to see you.”
“You knew Clara was here.”
He smiled.
“We've known for months.”
My hand tightened around my nephew.
“Why didn't you come sooner?”
“Because we needed confirmation.”
“Of what?”
“That the child was really yours.”
“My nephew.”
Victor's expression changed.
“The last legitimate Sterling heir.”
I stepped forward.
“Leave.”
He sighed.
“I wish I could.”
“You don't.”
“I do.”
Then he pulled a photograph from his coat.
It showed my father.
Standing beside Victor.
And a third man.
A man I recognized from old family portraits.
My grandfather.
Victor tapped the photograph.
“Your grandfather created the succession system.”
“And?”
“He knew your father would eventually turn against him.”
“What happened?”
“He created a contingency.”
“What contingency?”
Victor smiled.
“The heir would inherit the proof.”
A terrible realization formed.
“My father wanted to expose the family.”
“Yes.”
“And you stopped him.”
“No.”
Victor's expression turned strange.
“Your father stopped himself.”
I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Victor didn't answer.
Instead, he looked at Clara.
“You should tell your brother the truth.”
Clara's face went pale.
“What truth?”
Victor pointed toward her.
“She wasn't the reason the trust was hidden.”
I looked at Clara.
“Then what was?”
Victor said:
“Your father never intended the child to inherit.”
Silence.
“He intended Gabriel to.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
Victor smiled.
“You were the contingency.”
I shook my head.
“That makes no sense.”
“It will.”
He stepped backward.
“Because the trust requires one thing your sister doesn't possess.”
“What?”
Victor looked at me.
“The original Sterling blood seal.”
I stared.
Then at my own hands.
My grandfather had died when I was seventeen.
He had given me an old signet ring.
I had worn it for decades.
I never knew why.
Victor's eyes dropped toward my hand.
He smiled.
“There.”
The ring.
The thing I had carried all my life.
The thing I had never questioned.
Victor whispered:
“You've been carrying the key the entire time.”
Then the hallway lights went out.
Gunfire erupted.
Someone had opened fire from the stairwell.
Victor's men scattered.
I pulled Clara from the cot.
Maya screamed.
And through the chaos, one voice shouted:
“GET THEM OUT OF THE BUILDING!”
May you like
I recognized it.
It belonged to my father.
