Chapter 4 - THE BLOOD ON THE CONTAINER FLOOR
Addison did not hit Simon.
Dwayne almost wished she had.
Instead, she became completely still.
“How badly?”
Simon looked at the floor.
“Shoulder.”
“You shot my brother.”
“He ran.”
“That is not a reason.”
“No.”
Dwayne watched Addison carefully.
All the elegant control from dinner had vanished into something more dangerous.
Quiet rage.
“Did Celeste know he was shot?”
“Yes.”
“And she took him?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“I told you. I don’t know.”
Addison looked at Dwayne.
“You have databases.”
“Yes.”
“Cameras.”
“Yes.”
“Contacts.”
“Yes.”
“Then find him.”
Not please.
Not if you can.
Find him.
Dwayne nodded.
“I will.”
Simon laughed bitterly.
“Listen to you.”
Dwayne turned.
“What?”
“You’re taking orders from your secretary.”
“No.”
He looked at Addison.
“I’m correcting something that happened under my name.”
That silenced Simon.
By midnight, Dwayne had teams searching hospital admissions, aliases, border records, private clinics, airport manifests, and old Celeste-linked accounts.
Addison stayed in his office.
The cardigan returned.
So did the glasses.
Dwayne noticed.
“Armor?”
She looked at her keyboard.
“Habit.”
“You don’t need it tonight.”
“I decide what I need.”
Fair.
At 2:40 a.m., one account appeared.
Monthly payment from a shell company formerly controlled by Celeste.
Recipient:
North Haven Rehabilitation Center.
Vermont.
Patient:
Nathan L.
Addison stopped breathing.
“Call.”
Dwayne did.
The facility confirmed a patient named Nathan Lee.
Age thirty.
Admitted nearly three years earlier.
Traumatic injury.
Different surname.
No visitors listed except one woman.
C. Vale.
Celeste.
Addison’s hands shook.
“He’s alive.”
“Maybe.”
She looked at him sharply.
“Don’t.”
“I need you prepared.”
“No.”
Her voice broke.
“For three years I’ve been prepared for a corpse.”
Dwayne had no response.
They left before dawn.
Four-hour drive.
No Simon.
No bodyguards inside the car.
Addison insisted.
Dwayne drove.
For the first hour, silence.
Then:
“Why did you invite me to dinner?”
He glanced at her.
“You know why.”
“The bet.”
“Yes.”
“You wanted to humiliate me.”
“Yes.”
He hated saying it aloud.
“Do you regret it?”
“Yes.”
“Because I surprised you?”
“No.”
That answer made her look over.
“Then why?”
“Because it was cruel.”
She studied him.
Interesting.
At North Haven, a nurse led them down a quiet hallway.
Addison’s breathing became uneven.
Room 214.
The door opened.
A man sat near the window.
Thin.
Scar along his shoulder.
Older than the photograph.
Alive.
“Nathan?”
He turned.
His eyes widened.
“Addie?”
Her knees gave out.
Dwayne caught her before she hit the floor.
Nathan stood too fast, nearly falling.
Brother and sister collided in the middle of the room.
Neither spoke coherently.
Dwayne moved toward the door.
This moment was not his.
Then Nathan looked over Addison’s shoulder.
Saw Dwayne.
His face changed.
“No.”
Addison turned.
“What?”
Nathan stepped backward.
“Get away from him.”
“Nathan—”
“He doesn’t know.”
Dwayne froze.
“Know what?”
Nathan looked at Addison.
Then Dwayne.
“Celeste didn’t fake her death to escape Dwayne.”
May you like
Silence.
“She faked it because she found out who Dwayne Cross really is.”
