Chapter 3 - Victor Hale’s Daughter
Clara stopped breathing.
Adrian took the pendant from her hand.
He carried it beneath the desk lamp and studied the tiny photograph.
Lily was right.
The face was damaged, but the ring remained visible.
Black stone.
Silver crest.
Adrian knew it well.
Victor Hale had worn it every day for fifteen years.
“No,” Clara whispered.
Adrian looked at her.
“My mother would've told me.”
“Would she?”
Clara flinched.
The question was cruel.
It was also fair.
Anna Bennett had built their life around silence.
Whenever Clara asked about her father, Anna gave the same answer.
He died before you were born.
No name.
No photographs.
No grave.
No family.
Nothing.
Adrian handed back the necklace.
“Call your mother.”
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“She died eight months ago.”
Something in Adrian softened, but only briefly.
“Did she leave anything?”
“A few boxes. They're in my apartment.”
“We're going there.”
Clara stared at him.
“Now?”
“If Victor Hale is your father, someone placed you in this house for a reason.”
“And if he isn't?”
“Then we'll prove it.”
Lily stepped between them.
“I'm coming.”
“No,” Adrian and Clara said together.
Lily folded her arms.
Adrian almost smiled.
Almost.
“You stay here with Marcus.”
“No.”
“Lily.”
“Mommy came back and disappeared again. Mr. Pierce disappeared. Someone shot a guard. And now Miss Clara might be Uncle Victor's daughter.”
She paused.
“I don't think bedtime is happening.”
Adrian closed his eyes.
Clara looked away to hide a smile.
Twenty minutes later, an armored SUV left Blackwood Manor.
Lily sat between Clara and Marcus in the rear.
Adrian rode in front.
Clara's apartment was above a bakery in Lincoln Park.
The contrast to Blackwood Manor was almost absurd.
Small.
Warm.
Secondhand furniture.
Children's drawings from former families Clara had worked for covered the refrigerator.
Adrian noticed them.
“You kept these?”
“The kids made them.”
“So?”
“So throwing away something a child made for you feels rude.”
Adrian stared at a crayon drawing of Clara wearing a crown.
Lily smiled.
“I'll make you one.”
Clara squeezed her hand.
The boxes from Anna Bennett’s apartment were stored beneath Clara's bed.
They opened the first.
Clothes.
Receipts.
Letters.
Nothing.
The second contained photographs.
Adrian searched silently.
Then Clara found an envelope with her name on it.
Her hands trembled.
She opened it.
Inside was a letter.
Clara, if you're reading this, I failed to tell you something while I was alive.
Clara sat down.
Adrian remained standing.
She continued.
Your father was not a good man when I knew him. But he was not entirely the monster people believed him to be. His name was Victor Hale.
Clara covered her mouth.
Lily reached for her hand.
Adrian looked away.
The letter continued.
Anna had met Victor twenty-eight years earlier.
She had loved him before he became powerful.
Before Blackwood Industries.
Before the alliances, betrayals, and violence.
When Anna became pregnant, Victor begged her to stay.
She fled instead.
She didn't want her daughter raised near his world.
Then came the final paragraph.
If Victor ever returns, don't believe the first story he tells you. And if you ever meet Adrian Blackwood, remember this: his father destroyed Victor long before Victor tried to destroy Adrian. None of the children should have inherited their fathers' war.
Adrian read that sentence twice.
“My father?”
Clara looked up.
“You knew nothing about this?”
“No.”
A floorboard creaked.
Marcus drew his weapon.
“Stay here.”
He moved toward the kitchen.
A second later came a crash.
Adrian pushed Lily behind him.
Marcus returned dragging a man by his coat.
Samuel Pierce.
Blood covered one side of his face.
“Stop!” Pierce gasped.
Adrian crossed the room and slammed him against the wall.
“Where is Evelyn?”
Pierce stared at him.
“I was trying to bring her home.”
“You had six years.”
“You don't understand.”
“Then explain quickly.”
Pierce looked at Clara.
His eyes widened.
“Anna's girl.”
Clara stiffened.
“You knew my mother?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Pierce closed his eyes.
“Because she saved Adrian's life before he was old enough to remember.”
Silence.
Adrian released him slightly.
“What?”
“Your father, Richard Blackwood, and Victor Hale built the original company together. Richard wanted Victor gone. Anna discovered he was planning to have Victor killed.”
Clara stared.
“My mother?”
“She warned Victor. He survived. But he never forgave the Blackwoods.”
Adrian's jaw tightened.
“What does that have to do with Evelyn?”
“Everything.”
Pierce sank into a chair.
Six years earlier, Victor had learned that Richard Blackwood had hidden millions in illegal accounts under Evelyn’s family foundation.
Victor planned to expose the Blackwoods.
Evelyn discovered the evidence first.
“She came to me,” Pierce said. “She wanted to take Lily and leave Chicago until she understood what Adrian knew.”
“I knew nothing.”
“I know that now.”
“Did Evelyn?”
“Eventually.”
Adrian stepped closer.
“Where has she been?”
Pierce looked toward the window.
“Moving.”
“From whom?”
“Victor.”
Clara's heart stopped.
“My father?”
Pierce nodded.
“He didn't die five years ago. He staged it.”
Adrian's voice became dangerously quiet.
“Why?”
“Because dead men are difficult to hunt.”
“And Evelyn?”
“She escaped him three years ago. Since then, I've been helping her hide.”
Adrian punched the wall beside Pierce's head.
“You helped my wife hide from me?”
“She believed Victor had someone inside your security network.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
Adrian laughed once, without humor.
“You expect me to believe that?”
Pierce reached into his jacket.
Marcus aimed.
“Slowly.”
Pierce removed a flash drive.
“Evelyn gave me this tonight. She came to the nursery because she finally had proof.”
“Proof of what?”
“Who betrayed her.”
Adrian took the drive.
Clara opened her laptop.
The first folder contained financial records.
The second contained surveillance photographs.
The third held audio files.
Adrian clicked the newest.
Victor Hale's voice filled the apartment.
“He still trusts you?”
Another man answered.
“Yes.”
Adrian went still.
He knew that voice.
Marcus knew it too.
The security chief's face changed.
Pierce whispered, “That's why Evelyn came back.”
The recording continued.
Victor said, “Once the girl opens the room, Blackwood will start digging. Let him. He'll find Clara.”
“And then?”
“He'll think she was planted.”
“Wasn't she?”
Victor laughed.
“No. That was luck.”
Clara looked at Adrian.
The other man asked, “What about Evelyn?”
Victor’s answer was immediate.
“Bring her to the lake house.”
Adrian leaned closer.
Then came the sentence that changed everything.
“And Lily?”
A pause.
Victor replied.
“The child comes to me.”
Adrian’s face became stone.
The recording ended.
Clara looked toward Lily.
But the chair beside her was empty.
“Lily?”
Everyone turned.
The apartment door stood open.
On the floor lay Lily’s pink hair ribbon.
Marcus ran into the hallway.
Adrian followed.
No Lily.
No footsteps.
No scream.
Nothing.
Then Clara's phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered with shaking fingers.
“Hello?”
Victor Hale spoke.
“Hello, daughter.”
Clara went white.
“Where is Lily?”
“Safe.”
“If you hurt her—”
“She's my insurance.”
“Against what?”
“Adrian Blackwood.”
Adrian took the phone.
“If you touch my daughter, there isn't a grave deep enough.”
Victor laughed.
“You sound exactly like your father.”
“Where is she?”
“You'll know soon.”
The call ended.
Clara stared at Adrian.
He looked ready to tear Chicago apart brick by brick.
Then her phone chimed.
A photograph arrived.
Lily sat in the back seat of a car.
Terrified but unharmed.
Beside her was Evelyn.
May you like
And beneath the photograph were five words:
BRING CLARA. NO POLICE. MIDNIGHT.
