Chapter 9 - THE TRUTH UNDER THE FLOOR
I entered the mansion carrying a briefcase.
Inside was a fake copy of the trust.
The real documents were with Rachel.
Police surrounded the property.
But they stayed out of sight.
I walked into the ballroom.
The lights were off.
The house was silent.
“I'm here.”
Nothing.
Then a voice came from upstairs.
“Come up.”
I climbed the staircase.
The locked office door was open.
Inside stood Ethan Cole.
He was holding Lily.
My daughter was crying.
“Daddy!”
I nearly lost control.
“Let her go.”
Ethan smiled.
“Give me the documents.”
I held up the briefcase.
“First, Lily.”
He shook his head.
“Open it.”
I did.
He reached for the folder.
Then stopped.
“You're bluffing.”
I smiled.
“You're right.”
His face changed.
“The real documents aren't here.”
He grabbed Lily tighter.
I stepped forward.
“Don't.”
He froze.
“Let her go.”
“Where are the originals?”
“Somewhere you'll never find them.”
He laughed.
“You have no idea what your father discovered.”
“Tell me.”
“He discovered the offshore accounts.”
“Whose?”
“Everyone's.”
Ethan pulled out a gun.
I froze.
He pointed it toward the floor.
“You think your mother is the villain?”
“She is.”
“No.”
He laughed.
“She was afraid.”
“Afraid of you?”
“Afraid of what would happen if your father's files became public.”
“What files?”
Ethan looked toward the floor.
“Your father found proof that several politicians, executives, and bankers were involved in a massive laundering network.”
I stared.
“And my family?”
“Your mother was a small piece.”
“Then who was behind it?”
Ethan smiled.
“You've met him.”
My stomach tightened.
“Who?”
Before he could answer, the lights went out.
A gunshot echoed.
Ethan dropped.
Lily screamed.
I grabbed her and pulled her behind me.
Police stormed the room.
Ethan was still alive.
But another man had escaped through the window.
Rachel arrived minutes later.
She found something beneath the floorboards.
A metal box.
Inside were documents.
Passports.
Bank records.
And a photograph.
I picked it up.
The photograph showed my father.
Beside him stood a younger man.
I recognized him.
It was the man who had greeted me at the mansion weeks earlier.
Victor Hale.
But there was something wrong.
The photograph was dated fifteen years ago.
Victor looked exactly the same age.
Rachel noticed.
“Daniel.”
I turned.
She pointed at the back.
There was a handwritten note.
Victor Hale died in 2011.
I stared.
“No.”
She nodded.
“This isn't Victor.”
Then we heard footsteps.
Victor entered.
He looked at the photograph.
His face went pale.
“That isn't me.”
“Then who is it?”
He didn't answer.
A voice came from behind him.
“Me.”
Everyone turned.
My mother stood in the doorway.
She was holding a folder.
“I should have told you years ago.”
She looked at me.
“The man in that photograph is your father's twin brother.”
I stared.
“My father had a twin?”
“Yes.”
“Where is he?”
She whispered:
“Dead.”
I looked at Victor.
He was shaking.
My mother continued.
“Your father's twin died before your father.”
I stared at her.
“Then who is Victor?”
She closed her eyes.
“My husband's twin was never dead.”
Silence.
Victor stepped forward.
“My real name is Alexander Caldwell.”
My blood ran cold.
“Caldwell?”
He nodded.
“I'm your uncle.”
I couldn't speak.
The man I thought was Victor Hale...
May you like
was my father's brother.
And he had been inside our lives the entire time.
