Chapter 8 - The Brother in the Grave
Gabriel Blackwood had died twenty years earlier.
At least that was the story.
Motorcycle accident.
Closed casket.
Private funeral.
I began noticing a pattern.
“Your family needs to stop burying people without checking their pulse,” I told Adrian.
We were back at the estate.
Ethan was asleep between two security officers stationed outside his door.
Adrian stared at the photograph Agent Shaw had placed on the table.
Gabriel at eighteen.
Adrian at nineteen.
Two brothers standing beside a lake.
They looked almost identical.
“Gabriel died in my arms,” Adrian said.
That silenced everyone.
“You saw him?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Then how could he be alive?”
“I don’t know.”
Agent Shaw slid a report toward us.
“The body recovered from the motorcycle crash suffered severe burns.”
Adrian frowned.
“He spoke to me.”
“What did he say?”
Adrian’s eyes became distant.
“My name.”
“Anything else?”
“No.”
“He died before paramedics arrived?”
“Yes.”
Shaw tapped the file.
“No DNA test was performed.”
Adrian stared.
“Twenty years ago, your father’s people controlled the scene before police arrived.”
I understood.
“You saw someone you believed was Gabriel.”
“Yes.”
“But his face…”
“Burned,” Adrian whispered.
Shaw nodded.
“There is another possibility. Gabriel was injured but survived, and another body was substituted afterward.”
Adrian stood.
“My father lied to me about my mother. Lena. Roman’s death.”
He laughed bitterly.
“Why not Gabriel too?”
We searched through Roman’s seized communications all night.
At 3:40 a.m., an analyst found the answer.
A photograph.
Taken six months earlier.
A private compound in northern Mexico.
A man stood beside Julian Blackwood.
Tall.
Broad-shouldered.
A scar across half his face.
Adrian sat down.
“Gabriel.”
He did not sound frightened.
He sounded heartbroken.
“What happened to him?” I asked.
Adrian stared at the image.
“Gabriel hated my father.”
“Then why work with him?”
“I don’t know.”
Victoria did.
She had survived Marcus’s bullet and was recovering under guard.
When Adrian showed her the photograph, she closed her eyes.
“You knew,” he said.
Victoria began crying.
That was answer enough.
“You knew Gabriel was alive.”
“Yes.”
Adrian walked away.
“How many graves have I mourned for people sitting comfortably somewhere else?”
“Adrian—”
“No.”
Victoria wiped her face.
“Gabriel survived the crash.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Roman sent him away.”
“Why?”
“Because Gabriel tried to expose him.”
Agent Shaw leaned closer.
“Expose what?”
Victoria looked at me.
“Children.”
My stomach tightened.
“What children?”
“Roman used Blackwood charities to move money.”
Adrian nodded.
“I knew that.”
“Not only money.”
Silence.
Adrian’s face changed.
“No.”
Victoria continued.
“Gabriel discovered employees were exploiting vulnerable teenagers through one of Roman’s overseas networks.”
Adrian looked sick.
“He confronted him.”
“Yes.”
“And Father tried to kill him.”
“Yes.”
“Then why is Gabriel working with him now?”
Victoria’s voice broke.
“Because Roman convinced Gabriel you ordered the crash.”
Adrian stared.
“What?”
“He told Gabriel you wanted succession.”
Adrian laughed in disbelief.
“I worshipped him.”
“I know.”
Victoria looked at her son.
“Gabriel has spent twenty years believing you tried to murder him.”
The same strategy.
Roman had convinced me Adrian wanted me dead.
Convinced Adrian I was dead.
Convinced Gabriel Adrian wanted him dead.
Roman Blackwood had controlled his family by separating everyone who might love one another.
And it had worked.
Until Ethan.
The next morning, Julian called.
Directly.
Adrian answered on speaker.
“Brother.”
“Half.”
Julian laughed.
“Still sensitive.”
“What do you want?”
“Father failed.”
“Yes.”
“That creates difficulties.”
“You poisoned my son.”
“I approved the test.”
I grabbed the phone.
“You almost killed a seven-year-old child.”
Julian went quiet.
“Lena Bennett.”
“Say my son’s name again and I’ll—”
Adrian gently took the phone away.
Julian laughed.
“I see why you kept her.”
Adrian’s voice dropped.
“I didn’t keep her. She stayed because she chose to.”
I looked at him.
That mattered.
Julian continued.
“Gabriel wants to see you.”
“Where?”
“He’ll contact you.”
“If he comes near Ethan—”
“He doesn’t care about the boy.”
“Then what does he want?”
“You.”
The call ended.
Two hours later, Ethan wandered into the kitchen while I made pancakes.
“Is Dad rich?”
I almost dropped the spatula.
“Why?”
“He has twelve refrigerators.”
“He does not have twelve refrigerators.”
“One guy downstairs said there are twelve.”
I sighed.
“Your dad has more money than most people.”
“How much?”
“That is a question for your father.”
Adrian walked in at exactly the wrong moment.
“What question?”
Ethan turned.
“Are you a billionaire?”
Adrian looked at me for help.
I smiled sweetly.
“Age-appropriate answers.”
He sat.
“Yes.”
“How many billions?”
“Ethan.”
“What?”
Adrian poured coffee.
“Enough.”
“Can I have twenty dollars?”
Adrian choked.
I laughed.
For a moment, we had breakfast.
Normal breakfast.
Then the kitchen window shattered.
I grabbed Ethan.
Adrian pushed us behind the counter.
Security rushed in.
No gunshot followed.
Instead, an arrow had struck the opposite wall.
An envelope was tied to it.
Adrian opened it.
One line.
THE CEMETERY. MIDNIGHT. COME WITHOUT FEDERAL AGENTS.
G.
Adrian went alone.
At least, he thought he did.
I followed.
Again.
I was getting good at disobeying mafia bosses.
The cemetery lay forty minutes outside Los Angeles.
Adrian stopped beside an empty mausoleum.
A man emerged from the darkness.
Gabriel.
Older.
Scarred.
Alive.
Adrian stared at him.
For several seconds, neither brother spoke.
Then Gabriel punched him.
Adrian hit the ground.
“I deserved that,” he said.
Gabriel kicked him.
“Maybe not that one.”
“You tried to kill me.”
“No.”
“Father showed me the order.”
“Forged.”
“Your signature.”
“Forged.”
Gabriel drew a gun.
I stepped out.
“Stop!”
Both men turned.
Adrian closed his eyes.
“Lena.”
“I know. I was told to stay home.”
Gabriel stared at me.
“The dead girlfriend.”
“Apparently your family collects us.”
Something almost like amusement crossed his scarred face.
I moved closer.
“Roman lied to me too.”
Gabriel frowned.
“He told me Adrian wanted me dead.”
Adrian stood.
“Father told me she died.”
I looked at Gabriel.
“He told you Adrian ordered your murder.”
Gabriel’s gun lowered slightly.
“Why?”
“Because if you hated each other, Roman controlled both of you.”
Gabriel looked uncertain.
Then Adrian pulled out his phone.
“I have the original traffic records from your crash.”
He handed it over.
Gabriel read.
His face changed.
Adrian continued.
“The vehicle that hit you belonged to Roman’s security company.”
Gabriel stared.
“That proves nothing.”
“No.”
Adrian met his eyes.
“But this does.”
He played an audio recording recovered from Marcus.
Roman’s voice filled the cemetery.
Gabriel survived. Make sure Adrian believes otherwise.
Gabriel dropped the phone.
Twenty years of hatred collapsed in one sentence.
His gun fell to his side.
Adrian stepped closer.
“I never wanted you dead.”
Gabriel stared at him.
Then suddenly pulled Adrian into him.
The brothers held each other like two men who had lost most of their lives.
I turned away.
Some moments did not belong to me.
Then Gabriel whispered something.
Adrian stepped back.
“What?”
Gabriel looked at us.
“Julian has Ethan’s medical records.”
My heart stopped.
“So?”
“He knows the poison permanently altered the mutation.”
Adrian’s face tightened.
“What does that mean?”
Gabriel looked at me.
“Ethan isn’t out of danger.”
“The doctors said he was recovering.”
“He is.”
“Then?”
May you like
Gabriel swallowed.
“The next hemorrhage won’t need poison.”
