Chapter 7 - THE FRIEND WHO SOLD US OUT
Alexander didn't speak for several seconds.
Then he said, “Bring him to the warehouse.”
I stepped forward.
“No.”
He looked at me.
“Claire, stay out of this.”
“Nathan is my friend too.”
“He broke into your home.”
“We don't know why.”
Alexander's expression hardened.
“I know enough.”
He left before I could stop him.
I followed in another car with Rebecca's security escort.
The warehouse stood near the river, an old industrial building that had once belonged to the Moretti family.
Inside, Nathan sat tied to a chair.
His face was bruised.
Alexander stood opposite him.
“Tell me who hired you.”
Nathan laughed weakly.
“You think this is about money?”
“Then explain.”
Nathan looked at me when I entered.
“Claire, you shouldn't be here.”
“Neither should you.”
He lowered his head.
Alexander placed the photograph on the table.
“Why did you leave this?”
Nathan stared at it.
“I didn't.”
Alexander grabbed his collar.
“Don't lie to me.”
“I'm not lying!”
I stepped between them.
“Alexander, let him speak.”
He released Nathan.
For a moment, the room was silent.
Then Nathan looked at me.
“Someone has been using my name for months. I discovered the truth about Sophia's return, and I tried to warn you.”
“What truth?” I asked.
Nathan swallowed.
“Sophia wasn't the one who found Isabella. Isabella contacted her.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“Three months ago, Isabella sent Sophia a message asking for help getting Daniel out of hiding. Sophia agreed.”
“Then why did she come back to Alexander?”
Nathan looked at Alexander.
“Because she wanted access to the family records.”
Alexander's eyes narrowed.
“What records?”
“The ones your father kept.”
Nathan continued.
“Your father didn't die naturally, Alexander.”
The room seemed to freeze.
Alexander's expression changed.
“Choose your next words carefully.”
Nathan met his eyes.
“I have proof.”
He nodded toward his coat.
One of the guards searched it and found a small flash drive.
Alexander took it.
“What's on this?”
“A recording.”
He plugged it into a laptop.
The recording began with the sound of a door closing.
Then a familiar voice filled the warehouse.
Alexander's father.
“I don't care what happens to Isabella. The documents must never reach Claire.”
Another voice responded.
Sophia's father.
“And the boy?”
“Keep him away from Alexander. If he discovers the truth, everything falls apart.”
Alexander stared at the screen.
The recording continued.
Then a third voice spoke.
A woman's voice.
“Don't worry. I'll make sure Claire never sees those documents.”
I recognized it immediately.
Eleanor.
The recording ended.
Alexander stepped away from the laptop.
His hands were clenched.
“Why didn't you tell me?” he demanded.
Nathan looked exhausted.
“Because I didn't know who to trust.”
I turned toward Alexander.
“Your grandmother was involved.”
He didn't answer.
His phone vibrated.
A message appeared.
Your wife is with us. Come alone if you want her back.
I looked at him.
“I'm right here.”
He showed me the screen.
Then I understood.
The message included a photograph of Eleanor.
She was sitting in a chair, her hands tied.
Someone had taken her.
Alexander immediately ordered his men to prepare.
But before he could move, Nathan spoke again.
“There's something else.”
Alexander turned.
Nathan's voice broke.
“Isabella is alive. She's been staying in a safe house outside the city.”
“Where?”
“I don't know the exact location.”
“Who does?”
Nathan looked at me.
“Claire.”
I frowned.
“Why would I know?”
Nathan's eyes filled with something close to pity.
“Because Isabella left you a message.”
He reached into his pocket and produced a small folded paper.
I opened it.
There were only six words.
Your father never stopped protecting you.
Beneath them was an address.
And a time.
May you like
Tomorrow morning.
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