Chapter 12 - THE FLIGHT I WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO SURVIVE
Federal investigators watched the video twice.
Then an agent asked the question nobody wanted to say aloud.
“What did Victor mean by ‘once Nathan gets on the flight’?”
Claire checked aviation records.
My canceled private flight had already been removed from the schedule.
The aircraft had undergone a routine inspection that morning.
Then the maintenance report appeared.
One fuel-line irregularity.
Minor.
Probably harmless.
Except the technician who signed the inspection had disappeared.
My skin went cold.
“If I had boarded…”
The agent didn’t speculate.
He didn’t need to.
Rachel looked at me.
The photograph had not merely stopped me from missing my son.
It may have saved my life.
Claire went pale.
“The envelope.”
“What?”
“The photograph arrived at your penthouse after your bags were packed.”
Rachel frowned.
“I mailed it.”
“When?”
“Two days ago.”
Claire shook her head.
“It should have arrived earlier.”
Someone had delayed it.
Or deliberately placed it where I would find it before leaving.
Who?
Daniel.
Minutes later, investigators traced the courier authorization.
Daniel Cole.
My brother had made sure the envelope reached me at exactly the right time.
He had helped Victor.
But when it mattered, he had tried to stop him.
I called him repeatedly.
Nothing.
Then a message arrived from his number.
Old Bennett warehouse. Midnight. Come alone if you want your brother alive.
Rachel grabbed my wrist.
“No.”
“I have to go.”
“No, you have to stop acting like the only way to love someone is to personally run into danger.”
The words stopped me.
She was right.
Again.
We gave the message to investigators.
A tactical team prepared.
I hated every second of not controlling it.
But I stayed beside Rachel.
At 12:18 A.M., they entered the warehouse.
Victor was there.
Daniel was there too.
Alive.
Victor attempted to flee through a loading bay but was arrested.
Daniel was taken into protective custody.
I should have felt relief.
Instead, I felt empty.
The empire I had spent my life building suddenly looked fragile.
Borrowed ideas.
Hidden investments.
Manipulated contracts.
A mentor who had tried to control me.
A brother who had betrayed me and saved me in the same week.
Then the hospital called.
Owen’s genetic results were back.
Rachel and I rushed to speak with the cardiologist.
He smiled.
That was the first good sign.
“Owen does have a genetic variation.”
Rachel gripped my hand.
“But it is not associated with the dangerous form we were worried about.”
I exhaled for what felt like the first time in days.
The doctor continued.
“We’ll monitor him, but his prognosis is excellent.”
Rachel started crying.
So did I.
Then the doctor added:
“There’s one more thing.”
I froze.
“The testing revealed the marker did not come from Mr. Cole.”
Rachel looked confused.
“It came from me?”
“Yes.”
The doctor nodded.
“And Ms. Bennett, based on your family history, I strongly recommend that you undergo a full cardiac evaluation yourself.”
Rachel’s face went pale.
May you like
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying Owen may have just discovered a condition in you before it became dangerous.”
