Chapter 8 - THE YACHT IN THE DARK
The ocean was black.
Wind slammed against the police launch as it raced toward the Meridian.
Adrian stood beside Detective Torres, gripping the rail.
In the distance, the yacht’s lights glowed against the horizon.
Richard was aboard.
Evelyn was aboard.
And somewhere on that vessel were the records that could expose decades of crimes.
Torres looked at Adrian.
“You do exactly what I say.”
He didn’t answer.
“Mr. Blackwood.”
“I heard you.”
“I need more than hearing.”
Adrian finally looked at her.
“I spent two years believing my son was dead.”
Torres’s expression softened slightly.
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
She accepted that.
The launch pulled alongside the Meridian.
No response from the crew.
Police boarded.
Adrian followed despite Torres’s objections.
The main salon was empty.
A glass had been shattered.
Blood marked the carpet.
Not much.
But enough.
“Mom!”
No answer.
They searched deck by deck.
The crew was found locked inside a storage compartment.
Alive.
One man explained that Richard had boarded unexpectedly using ownership credentials.
“He said he was acting for Mr. Blackwood.”
Adrian closed his eyes.
Of course he did.
“Where did he go?”
“Lower deck.”
Adrian ran.
Torres followed.
They found Richard in the engine corridor.
He was sitting against the wall.
Blood ran from his forehead.
His hands were empty.
Adrian stopped.
“Where is she?”
Richard laughed weakly.
“You always ask the wrong question first.”
Adrian grabbed his jacket.
“Where is Mom?”
Richard looked at him.
“She saved my life.”
Adrian froze.
Richard explained.
He had followed Evelyn onto the yacht because he thought she intended to destroy evidence that could prove Thomas Vale’s ownership claim against Blackwood Global.
Instead, someone attacked both of them.
“Who?”
“I didn’t see his face.”
“Where’s Mom?”
Richard pointed deeper into the vessel.
“Archive room.”
Police reached it.
The door had been forced open.
Inside, Evelyn sat on the floor beside stacks of waterproof file boxes.
Alive.
Adrian stopped in the doorway.
For one moment, neither moved.
Then Evelyn removed her glasses.
Without them, he finally saw it.
The shape of her eyes.
The tiny scar beside her left eyebrow from an accident when Adrian was six.
His mother.
Older.
Thinner.
But his.
“Adrian.”
He crossed the room.
She stood.
He hugged her.
Not carefully.
Not politely.
Like a son who had spent twelve years angry at a ghost.
Evelyn buried her face in his shoulder.
“I’m sorry.”
“So am I.”
“I wanted to come back.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t know everything.”
Adrian pulled back.
“What?”
She looked toward the boxes.
“There’s one secret I kept from Caroline.”
Torres entered.
“What secret?”
Evelyn hesitated.
“Saint Arden didn’t begin with William.”
Adrian frowned.
“But Eleanor said—”
“She only knew what she could prove.”
Evelyn opened the red ledger.
“The operation existed before William acquired it.”
“Who started it?”
Evelyn turned several pages.
A name appeared.
Hawthorne.
Adrian stared.
Caroline’s family.
“No.”
“Caroline’s father.”
“No.”
“Jonathan Hawthorne created the original network.”
Adrian sat down.
Noah’s maternal grandfather had been publicly celebrated as a humanitarian.
Hospitals.
Schools.
Children’s charities.
His foundation had donated hundreds of millions.
Evelyn continued.
“William discovered what Hawthorne was doing and blackmailed him.”
“For money?”
“For control.”
Eventually, William took over portions of the operation.
Then Caroline discovered it.
“She thought only Blackwood was involved,” Evelyn said.
“She never knew her own father started it.”
Adrian looked sick.
“Jonathan died before Caroline.”
“Yes.”
“Then who kept the Hawthorne side operating?”
Evelyn turned another page.
A name had been added later.
Margaret Hawthorne.
Caroline’s aunt.
Adrian stood.
“She’s alive.”
“Very much so.”
Margaret Hawthorne was seventy-three.
Elegant.
Respected.
Chairwoman of multiple museums.
And trustee of Noah’s inheritance.
Adrian suddenly understood.
“If Noah died—”
“Margaret gains enormous authority.”
“Victoria was working for her?”
Evelyn nodded.
“Since before Caroline died.”
Torres stared at the ledger.
“So Victoria isn’t the top of this.”
“No.”
“Richard?”
“Used.”
Richard stood in the doorway.
He had heard enough.
“Used?”
Evelyn looked at her younger son.
Her face filled with pain.
“Richard.”
He stepped inside.
“You let me believe Adrian stole my life.”
“I tried to tell you—”
“You disappeared!”
“To keep you alive.”
“You left me with William!”
Her eyes filled.
“I know.”
Richard’s voice broke.
“He hated me because of you.”
“I know.”
“You knew what he did.”
“Yes.”
“And you left.”
Evelyn cried silently.
Richard laughed once.
Empty.
“Everybody keeps telling me they were protecting me.”
He looked at Adrian.
“And somehow I’m always the one who gets destroyed.”
Adrian approached.
Richard stepped back.
“Don’t.”
“You helped Victoria take my son.”
“I know.”
“You helped cover Caroline’s death.”
Richard lowered his head.
“I know.”
“I should hate you.”
Richard looked up.
Adrian’s eyes filled.
“But you’re still my brother.”
Richard’s face crumpled for one second.
Then gunfire exploded above them.
Torres spun.
“DOWN!”
The yacht lights died.
Darkness swallowed the corridor.
Someone had boarded.
Police shouted above.
Footsteps pounded.
Torres pulled Adrian behind a steel cabinet.
“Stay here.”
Richard whispered, “There’s another exit.”
Evelyn opened a maintenance door.
They moved through a narrow passage.
At the end, moonlight entered through a hatch.
They emerged onto the rear deck.
A second boat sped away.
Torres shouted for officers.
One of the crew members pointed.
“They took a box!”
Evelyn ran to the archive.
Her face fell.
“Which one?”
She searched.
Then turned pale.
“The witness files.”
Adrian frowned.
“Whose witness files?”
“Children recovered from Saint Arden.”
Torres swore.
“If Margaret gets those names—”
“She can find them.”
Adrian immediately reached for his phone.
“Noah.”
He called Hannah.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
His heart stopped.
A third call.
Finally Hannah picked up.
But she didn’t speak.
“Hannah?”
Breathing.
Then a whisper.
“Mr. Blackwood.”
“What happened?”
“Someone is inside the mansion.”
Adrian’s blood froze.
“Where is Noah?”
“With me.”
“Lock the door.”
“We did.”
A crash sounded through the phone.
Hannah gasped.
Adrian shouted:
“HANNAH!”
May you like
She whispered:
“They’re coming through the wall.”
