Chapter 3 - THE GRANDSON I NEVER KNEW EXISTEDI thought I had misheard her.
“My grandson?”
Victoria nodded.
“He's alive.”
Julian looked like someone had struck him.
“That's impossible.”
“I know.”
“You told me your family was gone.”
“I lied.”
Arthur stared at Victoria.
“Explain.”
Victoria looked at Julian.
“I was twenty-two when Ethan was born.”
Julian's face hardened.
“You had a child?”
“Yes.”
“Who is the father?”
Victoria looked at him.
“Not you.”
The words hung in the room.
Julian stepped backward.
Arthur remained completely still.
“Then who?”
Victoria looked at me.
“Your son.”
I couldn't breathe.
Arthur's eyes narrowed.
“Which son?”
“Julian.”
Julian's face went white.
“No.”
Victoria began crying.
“We were together before I met you.”
Julian shook his head.
“That was fifteen years ago.”
“I know.”
“You told me Ethan was your cousin.”
“He was.”
“Then why didn't you tell me?”
“Because your mother didn't know.”
I stared at her.
“Why would you hide my grandson from me?”
Victoria's voice broke.
“Because I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
“Of Julian.”
My son stared.
“Me?”
“You were twenty-five. You had just started your company. You told me you weren't ready for a family.”
Julian shook his head.
“I don't remember.”
“You told me to give the baby up.”
His eyes filled with confusion.
“I never said that.”
“You did.”
“I wouldn't.”
“You did.”
Arthur stepped between them.
“Enough.”
Everyone fell silent.
Arthur looked at Victoria.
“Where is Ethan now?”
“I don't know.”
“Thomas has him?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Ethan knows where the ledger is.”
Arthur frowned.
“How would a child know?”
“He isn't a child anymore.”
“How old?”
“Fourteen.”
My heart broke.
Fourteen.
I had a grandson who had lived fourteen years without knowing me.
I looked at Julian.
He was staring at the floor.
Then he whispered:
“Why did you marry me?”
Victoria looked at him.
“I loved you.”
“And now?”
“I still do.”
“Then why steal from Mom?”
She began crying.
“Because Thomas threatened Ethan.”
Arthur turned away.
He was visibly struggling with his emotions.
Then he asked:
“Where did you last see him?”
“At an old warehouse.”
“Which one?”
“The one near the river.”
Arthur immediately looked at Marco.
“Find it.”
Marco nodded.
“We will.”
Victoria grabbed Arthur's sleeve.
“Wait.”
He looked at her.
“There's something else.”
“What?”
“Thomas isn't working alone.”
Arthur's eyes narrowed.
“Who?”
Victoria whispered:
“Your father's old partner.”
Arthur froze.
“My father's dead.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“He isn't.”
Arthur's face went pale.
“Who?”
Victoria looked at me.
Then whispered:
“Richard Hayes.”
I stared.
That name meant nothing to me.
But Arthur knew it.
“My uncle.”
Victoria nodded.
Arthur's jaw tightened.
“Uncle Richard died twenty years ago.”
“He faked his death.”
“Why?”
“To disappear with the ledger.”
Arthur looked at the hidden box.
“And Dad knew.”
“Yes.”
Arthur opened the old cassette recorder.
A voice filled the room.
Michael.
My husband.
His voice was older.
Tired.
Afraid.
Eleanor, if you're hearing this, I failed.
My eyes filled with tears.
Richard isn't dead.
Arthur closed his eyes.
The recording continued.
He knows about Ethan.
Julian covered his mouth.
He knows Ethan is your grandson.
My hands trembled.
And if Richard ever returns, he will try to use the boy to find the ledger.
The recording stopped.
Nobody spoke.
Then the basement door slammed downstairs.
Everyone jumped.
Marco immediately moved toward it.
Arthur raised his hand.
“Wait.”
A soft sound came from below.
Three knocks.
Then silence.
Arthur looked at me.
“Mom, stay here.”
But before he could move, the basement door slowly opened.
A man stood at the bottom of the stairs.
Older.
Gray-haired.
Wearing a dark coat.
He looked directly at Arthur.
Then at me.
And smiled.
“Eleanor.”
I couldn't breathe.
Arthur whispered:
“Uncle Richard.”
The man smiled wider.
“You've grown into your father's son.”
Arthur stepped forward.
“Where is Ethan?”
Richard laughed softly.
“Still asking the wrong question.”
Arthur's jaw tightened.
“What do you want?”
Richard looked at the hidden box.
“The ledger.”
Arthur moved in front of it.
“You're not getting it.”
Richard's smile disappeared.
“Then perhaps you should ask your mother what happened the night your father died.”
I stared at him.
Arthur turned toward me.
“Mom?”
Richard smiled.
“She knows.”
I shook my head.
“I don't.”
Richard looked directly at me.
“You were there.”
Arthur froze.
“What does he mean?”
Richard's eyes remained on me.
“Tell your sons the truth, Eleanor.”
My hands began shaking.
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
Richard smiled.
“You know exactly what happened.”
Then he stepped backward into the darkness.
Marco rushed down the stairs.
But Richard was already gone.
Only a small envelope remained on the floor.
Arthur picked it up.
Inside was a photograph.
It showed my husband, Michael.
Standing beside Richard.
And between them was a teenage boy.
I recognized him immediately.
It was Julian.
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But on the back of the photograph were five words that made my blood run cold:
YOUR HUSBAND DIDN'T DIE NATURALLY.
