Chapter 4 - THE MAN WHO CLAIMED MY NIECE
Victor Kane had been the most feared man in my father's organization.
He handled disputes.
Collected debts.
Made difficult people disappear from our lives.
When I was twenty-nine, I believed he was loyal.
When Michael died, Victor vanished.
My father told me he'd stolen money and fled the country.
Now his name appeared on my niece's birth record.
I stared at Marcus.
"Why would Victor claim Sofia?"
Marcus rubbed his forehead.
"To gain legal control over Elena and the baby."
My jaw tightened.
"Why?"
"Because Elena had evidence."
"Of what?"
"Financial crimes connected to the old Carter shipping companies."
I looked down at the photograph.
Michael.
Elena.
Their unborn daughter.
Everything about it screamed innocence.
And yet my family had turned their lives into a nightmare.
"Where is Victor now?"
"We don't know."
I leaned forward.
"Then find out."
Marcus hesitated.
"Daniel, there are things we need to handle through attorneys and investigators."
I looked at him.
For years, I would've laughed at that sentence.
I would've called my men.
I would've demanded answers.
But something had changed.
Maybe it was the sight of an eight-year-old girl eating crackers for dinner.
Maybe it was Elena giving her last bowl of soup away.
Or maybe it was the realization that the same power I'd spent my life worshiping had destroyed my brother's family.
I sat back.
"Then call the attorney."
Marcus blinked.
"What?"
"Get someone independent. Someone who doesn't owe my family anything."
He nodded slowly.
"All right."
Then I looked toward the door.
"And Marcus?"
"Yes?"
"Don't tell Elena I know."
He frowned.
"Why?"
"Because I need to understand why she's afraid of me before I decide what to say."
That morning, Elena arrived at the mansion at five forty-five.
She moved quietly through the hallway.
Cleaned the entryway.
Changed the flowers.
Prepared my coffee station.
Exactly as she had for three years.
I watched from the study doorway.
Her gray coat was damp.
Her shoes were worn.
And there were dark circles beneath her eyes.
"Elena."
She froze.
Then turned.
"Good morning, Mr. Carter."
I hated the way she said my name.
Carefully.
Respectfully.
Like a woman who knew one wrong word could cost her livelihood.
"Did you eat breakfast?"
She blinked.
"Excuse me?"
"Breakfast."
She gave a small smile.
"I'm fine."
That wasn't an answer.
I stepped closer.
"How's your family?"
Her expression changed immediately.
"What family?"
I felt something twist inside my chest.
"The people you live with."
She went pale.
For one terrible second, I thought she might faint.
Then she whispered, "You followed me."
I didn't deny it.
"Yes."
Her eyes filled with fear.
"Mr. Carter, please."
I stepped backward.
"I'm not here to threaten you."
She laughed softly.
It was the saddest sound I'd ever heard.
"Men like you don't have to threaten people."
The words struck harder than an accusation.
Then she reached into her pocket.
A folded paper slipped from her fingers.
I bent to pick it up.
A child's drawing.
Three people holding hands.
A woman.
A little girl.
And a man whose face had been colored completely black.
Beneath the drawing, Sofia had written:
Mommy says Daddy is watching from far away.
I looked up.
Elena's tears spilled over.
Then she whispered:
"If you know who Sofia is, Daniel, then you need to understand something."
May you like
I held my breath.
"Your brother is alive."
