Chapter 11 - CATHERINE VALE
I dragged Carla behind a concrete barrier.
Matthew fired toward the officers.
Catherine shot from above with terrifying precision.
Commissioner Reeves disappeared behind a police vehicle.
Tourists screamed and ran.
Sirens began almost immediately.
Real police?
Circle police?
I no longer knew the difference.
Carla clutched my jacket.
“I hate your family.”
“Join the club.”
A bullet chipped concrete inches above us.
Matthew moved beside me.
“Stay here.”
“No.”
“Evelyn.”
“Still no.”
Catherine shouted from above.
“South exit!”
Matthew looked up.
“Why should we trust you?”
She fired.
An officer behind him dropped.
“Because I just saved your life!”
“Low standard!”
Despite everything, I almost laughed.
We moved south.
Carla ran between us.
Catherine descended a metal staircase.
Up close, Matthew looked more like her than I realized.
Same eyes.
Same posture.
Same way of scanning exits while speaking.
She stopped in front of him.
Twenty-eight years of abandonment sat between them.
“Matthew.”
He raised his gun.
“Give me one reason.”
Catherine looked at the barrel.
“Because I’m your mother.”
“That’s not a reason. That’s the problem.”
Gunfire resumed.
She grabbed his sleeve.
“Emotional trauma later.”
They were definitely related.
We reached a service corridor beneath the pier.
Catherine knew every turn.
At the end, a van waited.
We climbed in.
A driver accelerated.
Matthew kept his gun pointed at Catherine.
She ignored it.
“Where is Richard?”
“Alive,” I said.
“Daniel?”
“Alive.”
She stared at me.
“Daniel Mercer?”
“Yes.”
For the first time, her control broke.
“Impossible.”
“My week has been full of that.”
She leaned back.
“Where is the drive?”
I smiled.
“There it is.”
“What?”
“The real question.”
“I saved you.”
“So did a lot of people who later lied.”
Matthew said, “Answer her.”
Catherine looked at him.
“I knew you’d hate me.”
“You didn’t know me.”
“I watched.”
His face changed.
“Watched?”
“From a distance.”
“That supposed to help?”
“No.”
“Birthday cards get lost for twenty-eight years?”
“Matthew—”
“You left me with Richard Valentine.”
Her eyes filled.
“I left you where the Circle ordered.”
He laughed.
“So obedience matters more than children in both my families.”
She looked wounded.
Good.
He deserved to give some back.
Catherine explained that she had tried to extract him when he was six.
The Circle threatened to kill him.
At fourteen, after the fire, she tried again.
Richard refused.
“He didn’t know I was alive,” she said.
Matthew looked at me.
Richard had claimed the same.
Maybe true.
“Why now?” I asked.
“Because succession has begun.”
“The third candidate.”
Catherine looked sharply at me.
“You saw the file.”
“Yes.”
“Then you know enough to be dangerous.”
“Apparently I’ve always been dangerous.”
“Not like this.”
“Who’s the third?”
Catherine looked away.
Matthew raised his gun again.
“Mother.”
The word sounded like an accusation.
“Who?”
She whispered:
“Commissioner Reeves.”
I frowned.
“He’s old.”
“Not Alan.”
She looked at us.
“His son.”
“Reeves has a son?”
“Adopted.”
“What’s his name?”
Catherine’s next words made my stomach drop.
“Brennan Shaw.”
Silence.
Carla said, “Scarface?”
My mind raced.
Brennan.
Matthew’s enforcer.
The man I slammed onto the diner floor.
Shaw.
Same surname as Helen.
I looked at Matthew.
“You knew his last name was Shaw.”
“Yes.”
“Did you know Helen?”
His face went pale.
“No.”
Catherine nodded.
“She was his aunt.”
Everything rearranged.
Helen.
Brennan.
Circle.
“Does Brennan know?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
Matthew pulled out his phone.
Called.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
The real drive was with Brennan.
And Daniel.
My father.
My mother.
Richard.
All of them.
Matthew looked at me.
“We need to go.”
Catherine said, “Too late.”
“What does that mean?”
She held up her phone.
Security image.
Dr. Cho’s house.
Front door open.
Blood on the floor.
No bodies visible.
My heart stopped.
“Who sent that?”
“Reeves.”
Matthew grabbed the driver’s shoulder.
“Turn around!”
Catherine stopped him.
“That’s what they want.”
“I don’t care.”
“They want you emotional.”
“He has our family.”
“So we plan.”
Matthew stared at her.
“You don’t get to say family.”
She accepted that silently.
My phone rang.
Brennan.
I answered immediately.
“Where are they?”
His voice was strained.
“Boss?”
Matthew took the phone.
“Brennan.”
“Thank God.”
Gunshots sounded behind him.
“Where are you?”
“Dr. Cho’s.”
“Daniel?”
“Alive.”
“Isabelle?”
“Alive.”
“Richard?”
A pause.
“Gone.”
Matthew looked at me.
“What?”
Brennan continued.
“Reeves took him.”
“Which Reeves?”
Another pause.
“Alan.”
Catherine whispered, “Ask about the drive.”
I did.
“Brennan, where’s the drive?”
Silence.
Then his voice changed.
Calmer.
“I have it.”
Matthew’s face hardened.
“Bring it to us.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“I need to finish something.”
My stomach tightened.
“Brennan,” I said, “was Helen Shaw your aunt?”
Silence.
Then:
“She raised me.”
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
“She never told me about you.”
“She was protecting you.”
“From me?”
“From everyone.”
His breathing became rough.
“Helen died because of Richard.”
“I know.”
“No.”
His voice hardened.
“You know the story he told.”
“What story?”
“I was there.”
Matthew froze.
“When?”
“The night Helen died.”
Brennan continued.
“I watched Richard’s men force her car off the road.”
My chest tightened.
“You saw them?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you stop them?”
“I was sixteen.”
The same excuse Matthew carried.
Children trapped in adults’ wars.
“I spent eighteen years waiting,” Brennan said.
“For what?”
“For the Circle to fall apart.”
Matthew looked at Catherine.
“Are you working with Reeves?”
Brennan laughed.
“Alan thinks I am.”
“Are you?”
“No.”
“Then bring the drive.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because the red drive has one purpose.”
Daniel had never told us that.
“What purpose?” I asked.
Brennan said:
“It isn’t evidence.”
My blood went cold.
“What?”
“It’s an access key.”
Catherine went pale.
“To what?”
Brennan answered.
“The Circle’s reserve accounts.”
Richard’s empire was big.
But the Circle’s money could be unimaginable.
Matthew whispered, “How much?”
“Current estimate?”
Brennan laughed bitterly.
“Thirty-eight billion dollars.”
Carla mouthed a curse.
Brennan continued.
“And tonight, I’m going to steal every cent.”
Matthew closed his eyes.
“Brennan.”
“I served you fourteen years.”
“Yes.”
“You’re a criminal.”
“Yes.”
“You hurt people.”
“Yes.”
“Why should I trust you with thirty-eight billion dollars?”
Brennan said quietly:
“You shouldn’t.”
The call ended.
Catherine cursed.
I looked at her.
“What happens if he moves the money?”
“The Circle collapses.”
“That sounds good.”
“No.”
She stared at me.
“When systems like this collapse overnight, everyone starts killing everyone.”
Matthew understood.
“War.”
“Across every city where they operate.”
Chicago.
New York.
Washington.
More.
Thousands could die.
My phone buzzed.
A location arrived from Brennan.
An old bank building in the Loop.
One message:
HELEN WANTED YOU TO DECIDE.
Beneath it:
COME ALONE, EVELYN.
Matthew shook his head.
“No.”
Catherine said the same.
Carla looked at me.
“You’re going.”
“Yes.”
Matthew grabbed my arm.
Not wrist.
He had learned.
“You cannot keep walking into traps.”
“I can if everyone keeps leaving answers inside them.”
He stared at me.
Then released me.
At midnight, I entered the abandoned bank alone.
Brennan sat behind an old teller counter.
The red drive rested beside a laptop.
His scar looked darker under the fluorescent light.
I stopped ten feet away.
“You’re Helen’s nephew.”
“Yes.”
“She never mentioned you.”
“She never mentioned you either.”
Fair.
“What did she want me to decide?”
Brennan turned the laptop.
Thirty-eight billion dollars.
Ready for transfer.
Three destination options.
OPTION A: DISTRIBUTE TO FEDERAL SEIZURE ACCOUNTS.
OPTION B: DESTROY ACCESS AND FREEZE FUNDS.
OPTION C: TRANSFER OWNERSHIP.
A blank field waited beneath Option C.
Brennan looked at me.
“The Circle’s founder designed a contingency. Mercer blood can assume ownership if leadership becomes compromised.”
I stared.
“You’re saying I can take it.”
“Yes.”
“Thirty-eight billion dollars.”
“Yes.”
“Why would Helen want me to decide?”
Brennan reached into his coat.
He placed a letter on the counter.
Helen’s handwriting.
Evie,
Money is only power someone agreed to count.
If you ever reach this point, you will be tempted to destroy it, steal it, or give it to people who claim to represent justice.
Trust none of those instincts completely.
Ask who gets hurt tomorrow.
I read it twice.
Brennan looked toward the entrance.
“We have five minutes.”
“Until what?”
He smiled faintly.
“Until Commissioner Reeves arrives.”
“You told him?”
“I had to.”
“Why?”
“Because I need him in the room.”
The front doors exploded open.
Men rushed inside.
Alan Reeves entered.
And beside him walked Richard Valentine.
My grandfather smiled at me.
“Princess.”
Then another figure stepped from behind them.
Young.
Maybe thirty.
Dark suit.
Pale eyes.
He looked exactly like Brennan except without the scar.
Brennan whispered:
May you like
“My brother.”
The third succession candidate.
