Chapter 5: The Price of Silence
Richard didn't point the gun directly at me.
He didn't need to.
He held it loosely at his side, as if threatening people were simply another part of his evening routine.
Margaret climbed out of the sedan.
“Richard, please.””
He glanced at her.
“Get back in the car.””
“She has nothing to do with this.””
Richard laughed.
“That's adorable, Margaret. You've been lying to the girl for twelve years, and now you're pretending to be her guardian angel.””
Margaret stepped between us.
“Leave Evelyn alone.””
He raised the photograph of Marta.
“Do you know what happens when people interfere with private property?””
I stared at the image.
Marta lay beside the chapel pew, her silver hair spread across the stone floor. A dark stain marked the collar of her jacket.
My stomach twisted.
“Is she alive?””
Richard tilted his head.
“That depends on how cooperative you become.””
I forced myself to breathe slowly.
“What do you want?””
“The bottle.””
I shook my head.
“You can buy a hundred bottles of Valmont Reserve.””
“Not that one.””
“Then tell me why.””
Richard's expression hardened.
“Because the bottle is evidence of a transaction that never happened. Its existence could trigger investigations into the estate, my company, and several people who would prefer their names remain out of public records.””
“Counterfeit wine?””
“Don't insult me with amateur guesses.””
“Then what?””
He took a step toward me.
“Your father made a mistake twelve years ago. He believed he could expose a network of wealthy men who used his vineyard for more than wine. He thought his records would protect him.””
“And you killed him.””
Richard's face went still.
“Your father was not the innocent man you remember.””
“Did you lock him inside the cellar?””
He smiled faintly.
“You should ask your mother what happened that night.””
The words struck harder than I expected.
“What did she do?””
“Your mother made a choice. One that cost a man his life.””
I felt the ground shift beneath me.
“You're lying.””
“Perhaps.””
He opened the rear door of the SUV.
“Perhaps not. You can spend the rest of your life wondering, or you can give me the bottle and go back to your little apartment.””
I looked at the photograph in his hand.
Then at the pistol.
Then at Margaret, who was shaking so violently she could barely stand.
I had spent twelve years surviving on the belief that my father had been a good man, that his death was a tragedy, and that the rest of the world had simply moved on without me.
Now the truth was standing in front of me, dressed in a thousand-dollar suit.
I couldn't afford to be brave.
I had to be clever.
“Fine,” I said.
Richard's eyebrows rose.
“Fine?””
“I'll give you the bottle. But first, I want proof Marta is alive.””
He studied me.
“You're in no position to negotiate.””
“Then shoot me and take it.””
Margaret gasped.
Richard's smile disappeared.
For a moment, I thought he might actually pull the trigger.
Instead, he took out his phone and made a call.
“Bring her around.””
Thirty seconds later, a second vehicle pulled up beside the SUV.
A man in a black jacket stepped out, supporting Marta by the arm. She was conscious, but her face was bruised, and she struggled to keep her balance.
I took a step forward.
Richard raised the pistol.
“Stay where you are.””
Marta looked at me.
“Don't give him the bottle,” she said.
The man holding her struck her across the face.
I lunged forward.
Richard caught my shoulder and shoved me backward.
“Enough!””
Marta stumbled but remained standing.
I tasted metal where I'd bitten the inside of my cheek.
“You said you'd let her go,” I snapped.
“I said I'd show you she was alive.””
He extended his hand.
“The bottle.””
I reached into my bag and removed the padded carrier.
For a moment, I considered smashing it against the pavement.
But if the bottle contained the only proof of my father's secret, destroying it would mean losing everything.
I handed it over.
Richard examined the black stamp and exhaled.
“You have no idea how long I've waited for this.””
He turned the bottle slowly.
Then he looked at me.
“Did you open it?””
“No.””
“Did anyone?””
“Ashley pulled the cork.””
His face tightened.
“Did she drink any?””
“No.””
“Good.””
He handed the bottle to the man beside him.
“Take it to the estate. Don't let anyone touch the label.””
The man nodded.
Richard turned back to me.
“Now we're going to have a little conversation about your mother.””
He opened the SUV's rear door.
I refused to move.
“Where is she?””
He glanced at Margaret.
“Tell her.””
My aunt stared at the wet pavement.
“Margaret,” I said.
She pressed both hands against her mouth.
“Your mother was at the vineyard the night Lorenzo died.””
“I know.””
“No, Evelyn. You don't understand. She wasn't there to save him.””
The words seemed to drain all the warmth from the night.
Richard's smile returned.
“Go on, Margaret. Tell your niece what you saw.””
Margaret shook her head.
“Please don't make me.””
“Tell her.””
She looked at me, tears streaming down her face.
“I saw your mother standing outside the cellar. She had blood on her hands.””
I stepped backward.
“No.””
“Richard told me she had stabbed someone. He said your father had discovered her involvement in the scheme, and that she had attacked him when he tried to stop her.””
“That isn't true.””
“I don't know what was true!”” Margaret cried.
“I only know what I saw.””
Richard's voice softened.
“Your mother disappeared because she knew what she had done.””
I looked at the photograph of Marta, at the pistol in Richard's hand, and at my aunt, who could barely meet my eyes.
He wanted me confused.
He wanted me frightened.
And most of all, he wanted me to stop asking questions.
“Why didn't you have me killed?”” I asked.
Richard blinked.
Margaret stopped crying.
I stepped closer to him.
“If you wanted to bury the truth, why let me grow up? Why send me away instead of making sure I never found out?””
His expression changed.
For the first time, he looked genuinely irritated.
“Because your father made me promise something.””
My heart lurched.
“What promise?””
Richard stared at me for several seconds.
Then he leaned close.
“He said if I ever harmed you, he would destroy everything I had built.””
A cold shiver moved through me.
“You're afraid of my father.””
Richard's face hardened.
“Your father is dead.””
“Then why are you still afraid of him?””
He struck me across the face.
My head snapped sideways.
Margaret screamed.
Richard grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him.
“Listen carefully. You will leave California tonight. You will never return to this estate. You will never contact your mother, Marta, or anyone connected to the Valmont family.””
His fingers tightened.
“If you disobey, your aunt will be charged with falsifying a death certificate, Marta will disappear, and you will spend the rest of your life wondering which one of them died because of you.””
He released me.
I stumbled against the sedan.
Richard climbed into his SUV.
Before shutting the door, he looked at me through the open window.
“One last thing, Evelyn. Your father wasn't the only person who knew about Vault 17.””
The vehicle pulled away.
The second car followed.
For several minutes, nobody spoke.
Then Margaret reached for my hand.
I pulled away.
“Don't touch me.””
She lowered her head.
“I deserve that.””
“Yes.””
I looked at the road where Richard had disappeared.
“But I need you to answer one more question.””
She nodded miserably.
“Anything.””
I took my mother's letter from my pocket.
“She wrote that the man who died in the fire didn't have my father's hands. She also said someone inside our family betrayed him.””
I stared at Margaret.
“Who else knew the secret passage beneath the cellar?””
Her face went white.
She whispered a name.
And when I heard it, I realized the betrayal had begun long before the night my father supposedly died.
“Your grandfather,” she said.
“Lorenzo's father.””
I had never known my grandfather.
He had supposedly died before I was born.
Margaret opened her mouth to say more.
Then a phone rang inside her coat.
She looked at the screen and began to tremble.
May you like
It was a video call.
The caller's name was *Lorenzo Valmont*.
