Chapter 3 - The Men Beneath the Tower
Victor was sitting at the head of the underground conference table when I entered.
Harrison sat beside him.
The golden falcon gleamed on his finger.
Victor removed his glasses.
“What is this nonsense, Sebastian?”
“We have a succession problem.”
Harrison straightened.
“The trusts are perfectly managed.”
“Not all of them.”
I threw the black envelope onto the table.
Harrison looked at it.
His jaw tightened.
Barely.
But I saw it.
“Recognize it?”
“No.”
“It was printed in your office.”
Victor leaned back.
“Digital records can be manipulated.”
I placed Luca’s journal beside it.
Harrison went pale.
Victor remained motionless.
“Luca survived the attack thirteen years ago.”
Victor laughed.
“Your brother died.”
“Not that night.”
Harrison leaned forward.
“Who gave you that journal?”
Silence.
Then I smiled.
“You just made your first mistake.”
His face changed.
“You didn’t ask whether it was Luca’s. You asked who gave it to me.”
Victor turned sharply toward him.
“Enough.”
I continued.
“Clara Morgan gave it to me.”
Harrison looked at Victor.
It lasted less than a second.
Mateo, standing in the shadows, noticed too.
“Luca had a daughter,” I said.
Harrison’s fingers began trembling.
“Her name is Emma.”
“That’s impossible.”
“DNA says otherwise.”
Victor stood.
“Where is she?”
I looked directly at him.
“That’s the first honest question you’ve asked.”
“You cannot introduce some unknown child into this family and destabilize everything we built.”
“She isn’t unknown.”
“She’s illegitimate.”
“She’s Luca’s daughter.”
“A technical distinction.”
“A direct heir.”
Harrison interrupted.
“Her forty-percent interest cannot activate until eighteen.”
The room became silent.
Victor turned toward him.
“Shut up.”
Too late.
I hadn’t known the percentage.
I had guessed there was a significant stake.
Harrison had just told me exactly how significant.
“You knew about her.”
Victor’s face hardened.
“We knew Luca might have produced an heir.”
“How long have you been watching Emma?”
Nobody answered.
Mateo stepped behind Harrison.
“Answer him.”
Harrison looked at Victor.
“Don’t,” Victor said.
Harrison closed his eyes.
“Three months.”
My anger became cold.
“How did Luca die?”
Victor said, “Sebastian—”
I slammed my palm against the table.
“How did my brother die?”
Harrison finally broke.
“They found him in Prague six years ago.”
“Who?”
“A team Victor hired.”
“What happened?”
“They took him to a house outside the city.”
“Was he alive?”
Harrison stared at the table.
“Yes.”
The word landed harder than any blow.
“How long?”
“Two days.”
I looked at Victor.
He didn’t even look ashamed.
“Luca could have handed over the evidence,” Victor said. “He refused.”
“You ordered his death?”
“I protected this family.”
“He was your nephew.”
“He was an idealist who would have destroyed generations of power.”
“He was better than us.”
“He was weak.”
“No.”
I leaned toward him.
“He simply knew the difference between power and corruption.”
Harrison started talking faster.
“After Luca died, we traced transfers to Clara. That eventually led us to Emma.”
“Why wait until now?”
“The succession clauses.”
Emma’s sixth birthday.
Eight days ago.
“What was the plan?” I asked.
Harrison didn’t answer.
Mateo placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Speak.”
“Move the girl out of the country before you could legally recognize her.”
“And then?”
Silence.
“Harrison.”
“We were going to stage an accident.”
The red cross over Emma’s photograph suddenly had a different meaning.
It wasn’t intimidation.
It was a death sentence.
Victor reached toward his pocket.
Mateo stopped him instantly.
“Don’t move.”
Victor smiled at me.
“You would turn against your own blood for a child you met this morning?”
“You stopped being my blood when you murdered Luca.”
My phone vibrated.
SECURITY BREACH: MOUNTAIN RESIDENCE
Mateo checked his communicator.
His face drained.
“The convoy never arrived.”
“Where is it?”
“We lost contact seven minutes ago.”
Victor smiled.
“You’re too late.”
My phone rang from an unknown number.
A live video opened.
Inside an armored SUV, the driver was unconscious.
Clara’s wrists were restrained.
Emma sat beside her, still wearing the yellow raincoat.
Her notebook was pressed against her chest.
A gloved hand entered the frame.
A gun pointed toward her.
A distorted voice spoke.
“Give us Luca’s journal and publicly surrender the girl’s claim to the trust.”
The camera moved closer to Emma.
She was terrified.
But she wasn’t crying.
“You have thirty minutes.”
Victor watched me.
The voice continued.
“After that, we separate the wolves forever.”
The call ended.
Mateo looked at me.
“What do we do?”
I stared at Victor.
Then at Harrison.
May you like
“We stop playing defense.”
The kidnapping, Victor and Harrison’s confession, the 40-percent interest, and the thirty-minute demand preserve the supplied plot’s central confrontation.
