Chapter 9 - The Night the Truth Came OutBrooke Sterling had spent her entire adult life being photographed beside powerful men.
Now the most important photograph of her life showed her standing beside a hospital bed with a syringe in her hand.
And Ethan Vance was looking at it as though he had never known her at all.
"She told me she hated hospitals," he whispered.
Isabella stood beside him.
"What?"
"Brooke. She said she couldn't stand the smell. She barely visited me after the first week."
He enlarged the photograph.
Brooke's crimson evening gown was gone.
She wore a pale blue blouse and dark trousers.
Her hair was pulled back.
The syringe was visible between her fingers.
But something about her expression troubled Ethan.
She didn't look triumphant.
She looked terrified.
Rebecca Sloan examined the image.
"We can't determine what's in that syringe. We also can't establish whether this photograph was taken voluntarily."
Ethan looked at her.
"You think she's being forced?"
"I think we need facts."
Twenty minutes later, a coordinated federal operation began outside the abandoned medical facility.
Ethan wasn't allowed anywhere near the entrance.
Neither was Isabella.
They waited in a secured vehicle several streets away while officers approached the building.
The next forty minutes felt longer than the previous six months.
Isabella sat with her phone in both hands.
Ethan watched the rain slide down the windshield.
Neither spoke.
Finally, Rebecca's radio crackled.
"Entry team inside."
A pause.
"Two individuals located in the west wing."
Isabella stopped breathing.
Another voice came through.
"Adult male, approximately sixty years old. Conscious. Medical assistance requested."
She grabbed Ethan's arm.
"That's him."
He covered her hand with his.
"We don't know yet."
Then the radio sounded again.
"Second male located. Elderly. Responsive."
Ethan closed his eyes.
His father.
Alive.
He had spent eight years believing Richard Vance was dead.
Now, somewhere inside that building, the man who had taught him to ride a bicycle and tie a necktie was breathing.
Rebecca listened to her earpiece.
Then turned toward them.
"We have both men."
Isabella began to cry.
Not the quiet tears she'd fought to hide all evening.
She bent forward, covered her face, and sobbed.
Ethan wanted to hold her.
Instead, he asked, "May I?"
She nodded.
He wrapped one arm around her shoulders.
And for the first time since meeting him, Isabella leaned against him without hesitation.
But the relief lasted only seconds.
Rebecca's expression changed.
"What is it?" Ethan asked.
"Daniel Mercer isn't inside."
"And Brooke?"
"She's there. Alive. Being questioned."
"Chad?"
Rebecca shook her head.
"Not located."
Ethan looked toward the facility.
"Then it's not over."
"No," Rebecca said. "It isn't."
At the hospital, Isabella reached her father's room before Ethan reached his.
Mateo Cruz lay propped against white pillows, an oxygen tube beneath his nose.
His face was bruised.
His hands trembled.
But when Isabella appeared in the doorway, his eyes filled with tears.
"Mi niña."
She froze.
For four years, she had imagined hearing his voice again.
Now that she could, her body refused to move.
Mateo lifted one shaking hand.
"Isabella."
She crossed the room.
"Dad."
He wrapped his arms around her as tightly as his weakened body allowed.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
She buried her face against his shoulder.
"Don't."
"I tried to come home."
"I know."
"They told me they'd hurt you."
She pulled back.
"You're here now."
Mateo looked at her with unbearable tenderness.
"You look so much like your mother."
Isabella laughed through her tears.
"She says I have your stubbornness."
"You do."
"Good."
Gabriel entered next.
He stopped at the doorway.
Mateo looked at his son.
The boy he'd last seen at nineteen was now a young man.
"Gabriel?"
Gabriel crossed the room without speaking.
He wrapped both arms around his father.
And the three of them held one another while Rosa stood in the doorway, crying too hard to move.
Then Mateo reached toward her.
"Rosita."
She went to him.
For several minutes, no one asked about the kidnapping.
No one discussed evidence.
No one mentioned Chad Miller.
They were simply a family that had been torn apart and had somehow found its way back together.
Across the hospital, Ethan entered Richard Vance's room.
His father looked smaller than he remembered.
White hair framed a face lined by illness and exhaustion.
But his eyes were the same.
"Ethan."
The voice was weak.
Ethan stopped beside the bed.
For eight years, he'd imagined what he would say if he could see his father one more time.
He'd imagined anger.
Questions.
Accusations.
Instead, he whispered, "You missed a lot."
Richard's eyes filled.
"I know."
"You missed my thirtieth birthday."
"I know."
"You missed the company going public."
Richard nodded.
"You missed my accident."
A tear slipped down the old man's cheek.
"That one nearly killed me."
Ethan looked away.
Richard continued.
"When I learned what they'd done, I tried to reach you. But by then, they had me under guard."
"Who?"
"Chad. Daniel. People Victor Sterling had brought into the business years earlier."
Ethan stared at him.
"Why didn't you go to the police before all this happened?"
Richard closed his eyes.
"I tried. The first evidence package disappeared. Two witnesses withdrew their statements. Then Thomas Reed warned me that someone was planning to kill me."
"The plane crash?"
Richard nodded.
"Thomas helped me escape. The plane went down during a separate flight. Someone used the disaster to make it appear I'd been aboard."
"Who arranged that?"
"I don't know who caused the crash. Thomas believed our enemies were involved, but we never proved it."
Ethan sat beside him.
"And Mom?"
"She believed I was dead for years. When she finally learned I was alive, she was told I had abandoned the family and was involved in financial crimes."
"She tried to take control of my company."
Richard looked devastated.
"I know."
"She says she thought she was protecting me."
"She may have believed that."
Ethan lowered his eyes.
"I don't know how to forgive her."
Richard reached for his hand.
"Then don't rush."
Ethan looked up.
His father continued.
"Forgiveness isn't something you owe because someone shares your blood."
The words settled between them.
For the first time in months, Ethan felt no pressure to prove anything.
He didn't have to stand.
Didn't have to look strong.
Didn't have to forgive.
He only had to be there.
Later that evening, Rebecca brought new information.
Brooke had agreed to cooperate.
She claimed Chad had summoned her to the medical facility after threatening to expose her involvement in the forged financial documents.
She admitted knowing about the proposed conservatorship.
She admitted helping Chad spread rumors that Ethan had become emotionally unstable after the accident.
But she denied knowing his brakes had been tampered with.
"Do you believe her?" Ethan asked.
Rebecca closed her folder.
"I believe parts of her account are consistent with records we've recovered. Other parts still need verification."
"What was in the syringe?"
"A prescribed medication. The facility physician has confirmed it was part of Richard's treatment plan."
Ethan looked toward his father's room.
"Then the photograph was staged."
"Possibly to make you think she was about to kill him."
"By Chad?"
"That's one possibility."
Rebecca hesitated.
"There's something else."
Ethan waited.
"Brooke claims Daniel Mercer offered her twenty million dollars to help establish your permanent incapacity."
Ethan stared at her.
"Twenty million?"
"She says she initially refused. Then Chad threatened to release evidence of financial misconduct involving her foundation."
Ethan shook his head.
"She could have told me."
"Yes."
"Instead, she humiliated me in front of three hundred people."
Rebecca didn't disagree.
"She'll have to answer for her choices."
An hour later, Ethan visited Brooke in a private interview room.
She sat at a small table.
No makeup.
No jewelry.
No crimson gown.
For the first time since he'd known her, she looked ordinary.
"Ethan," she whispered.
He remained in his wheelchair.
Brooke glanced down.
Then quickly looked back at his face.
He noticed.
"Why?" he asked.
Her eyes filled.
"I was afraid."
"Of Chad?"
"Of losing everything."
Ethan stared at her.
"You already had everything you needed."
"No. I had everything I thought mattered."
He waited.
Brooke swallowed.
"When you got hurt, I didn't know how to deal with it."
"You mean you didn't know how to deal with me needing help."
She looked down.
"Yes."
"Then you let Chad convince you I was finished."
She nodded.
"And when I started recovering?"
"I panicked."
"Because you realized you'd left too soon?"
"Because I realized what I'd become."
Ethan sat quietly.
Brooke began to cry.
"I loved you once."
He looked at her for a long moment.
"I believe you."
Hope flickered across her face.
Then he continued.
"But you stopped treating me like someone worthy of love when I needed it most."
Brooke lowered her head.
"I'm sorry."
Ethan nodded.
"I hope someday you become someone who understands what that means."
He turned toward the door.
"Ethan?"
He stopped.
"Do you hate me?"
He considered the question.
"No."
Her face crumpled.
"I just don't want to build my life around you anymore."
He left.
In the hallway, Isabella waited beside a vending machine.
She held two cups of terrible hospital coffee.
"How'd it go?" she asked.
Ethan accepted one.
"I think I finally said goodbye."
She nodded.
"Good."
He looked at her.
"How's your father?"
"Already complaining about the food."
Ethan smiled.
"Sounds promising."
Isabella smiled back.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then she said, "You know, you don't have to turn every painful experience into a lesson."
Ethan laughed softly.
"Apparently I do."
"Try living a little instead."
He looked at her.
"Would you have dinner with me sometime?"
She raised an eyebrow.
"Are you offering me a seat I earned?"
"No."
"Testing my kindness?"
"No."
"Trying to rescue me?"
He shook his head.
"I'm asking because I like you."
Isabella studied him.
Then smiled.
"That," she said, "is a much better answer."
Before Ethan could respond, Rebecca appeared at the end of the hallway.
Her expression was grave.
"We found Daniel Mercer."
Ethan turned.
"Where?"
"In his car. Outside a private airfield."
"Is he alive?"
"Yes. He's in custody."
Ethan exhaled.
Rebecca continued.
"He's agreed to cooperate. But he says Chad Miller isn't the person running the operation."
Ethan frowned.
"Then who is?"
Rebecca looked toward Richard's room.
"Daniel says the person behind everything has been communicating through an intermediary for years."
"Who?"
"We don't know yet."
She handed Ethan a photograph recovered from Daniel's briefcase.
It showed a group of wealthy investors standing outside a newly constructed hospital.
Victor Sterling.
Martin Kessler.
Daniel Mercer.
And a fourth man whose face had been deliberately scratched away.
On the back were three handwritten words.
THE ORIGINAL PARTNER.
Ethan stared at the photograph.
Then looked toward his father's room.
Because he suddenly remembered something.
His father had once told him there were three original partners in the company.
May you like
Not two.
And the third had disappeared long before Ethan was born.
