Chapter 3 - THE MAID WHO KNEW MY BROTHER'S NAME
I didn't knock on Elena's door that night.
For the first time in my life, I understood that having the power to enter someone's world didn't mean I had the right.
Instead, I drove home.
And spent the entire night staring at a photograph of my dead brother.
By sunrise, I'd opened my father's old safe.
The photograph was still there.
Michael stood beside Elena.
His hand rested on her pregnant stomach.
They were smiling.
Young.
Happy.
Unaware that everything would soon be destroyed.
I sat at my desk with the photograph in my hands.
Then called Marcus.
"Come to my office."
He arrived twenty minutes later.
He looked older than I'd ever seen him.
I placed the picture on the desk.
"Tell me everything."
Marcus stared at it.
Then slowly sat down.
"Michael wanted out."
I frowned.
"Out of what?"
"The organization."
My chest tightened.
"He never told me."
"He was afraid you'd stop him."
I looked away.
The truth hurt because he was probably right.
Nine years ago, I believed leaving the family business was betrayal.
I believed loyalty meant obedience.
My brother had always been different.
He wanted a normal life.
A little house.
A family.
A future without bodyguards.
Marcus continued.
"He met Elena when she was working at a neighborhood clinic. She was twenty-two."
"And they got engaged?"
"Yes."
"Why didn't I know?"
"Your father forbade Michael from telling anyone."
I looked up sharply.
"Why?"
"Because Elena discovered something about the shipping accounts."
My stomach tightened.
"What?"
"Money was being moved through charities your father controlled."
I stared.
"That doesn't explain why Michael had to disappear."
Marcus rubbed his face.
"Michael gathered evidence. He planned to give it to federal investigators."
I felt cold.
"My father knew?"
"Yes."
"And the explosion?"
Marcus looked down.
"It happened the night Michael was supposed to meet an attorney."
Silence filled the room.
I slowly stood.
"Are you saying my father tried to kill his own son?"
Marcus shook his head.
"I don't know who ordered the explosion."
I stared at him.
"Then what do you know?"
"Michael survived. Rafael helped him escape. Elena was told to disappear before the people responsible found her."
"And the child?"
Marcus closed his eyes.
"She was born seven months later."
I looked toward the photograph.
My brother's daughter.
Living in a cold apartment.
Eating crackers for dinner.
While I spent years believing she didn't exist.
"What's her name?" I asked.
Marcus swallowed.
"Sofia."
The name hit me unexpectedly.
My mother had wanted to name her first daughter Sofia.
She never had one.
Michael must have remembered.
Then Marcus reached into his jacket.
He removed a folded document.
A hospital birth record.
Mother: Elena Martinez.
Father: Michael Carter.
Child: Sofia Rose Carter.
I stared.
But beneath Michael's name was a second notation.
Paternity acknowledgment disputed.
I frowned.
"What does that mean?"
Marcus looked terrified.
"Your father challenged the record."
"Why?"
He hesitated.
"Because someone else claimed to be Sofia's father."
The room went cold.
"Who?"
Marcus whispered a name.
"Victor Kane."
May you like
My father's former chief enforcer.
The man who disappeared the same night Michael's car exploded.
