Chapter 12 - THE TRAITOR WHO WASN'T
Marcus didn't run.
That mattered.
A guilty man surrounded by Morettis might have.
Instead, he sat down and said, “Play it again.”
We did.
Helen claimed Marcus's access code had authorized the altered order that turned surveillance into sabotage.
Marcus shook his head.
“My code was copied.”
“By whom?” I asked.
“I don't know.”
Then he looked at me.
“Actually, I might.”
Twelve years earlier, Marcus had joined my organization after leaving military intelligence work.
Only one person had handled his internal credentials.
Our longtime security chief.
Frank Bell.
Frank had worked for my father before he worked for me.
And Frank had retired six months after Evelyn left Chicago.
“Where is he now?” I asked.
Marcus was already searching.
Maine.
A small coastal town.
Before we could leave, Daniel Reed walked into the hospital room.
Alive.
Marcus stared at his brother.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Daniel said, “You got old.”
Marcus laughed once and pulled him into a hug.
It lasted only a second.
But sometimes a second is enough to understand twenty years of missing someone.
Daniel explained the disconnected call.
He had spotted the fake transport officer returning and followed him.
The man escaped.
But Daniel got a partial plate.
Registered to Frank Bell.
There it was.
The invisible hand connecting every thread.
My father's orders.
My mother's signatures.
Marcus's access.
Helen's information.
Evelyn's brake lines.
Frank Bell had spent decades standing quietly behind powerful people and turning their fear into action.
“Why?” Evelyn asked.
Daniel opened another FBI file.
“Because Frank wasn't just your father's security chief.”
He looked at me.
“He was Julian's maternal uncle.”
The betrayal suddenly made sense.
Frank believed the Morettis had stolen Julian's name, inheritance, and future.
He had manipulated both sides for revenge.
But Daniel wasn't finished.
“Frank also emptied several offshore accounts yesterday.”
“How much?”
“Twenty-eight million.”
“Where did it go?”
“A private charter company.”
Nathaniel went pale.
He grabbed his phone and called home.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Then the housekeeper picked up.
She was crying.
“Dr. Carter... the children are safe.”
Nathaniel closed his eyes.
“What happened?”
“A man came to the gate. Security stopped him.”
My heart pounded.
“Who?”
She answered.
“Mr. Julian Carter.”
Evelyn looked at me.
Daniel immediately checked his phone.
Then his expression changed.
“That's impossible.”
“Why?”
“Because Julian Carter's plane left Massachusetts forty minutes ago.”
“Destination?”
Daniel looked up.
“Chicago.”
I already knew where he was going.
The old Moretti estate.
My father's house.
The place where every lie had started.
Then Daniel said:
“There's one more passenger listed on the manifest.”
“Who?”
“Helen Price.”
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Julian hadn't kidnapped her.
Helen had gone with him willingly.
