Chapter 3 - The Man My Daughter Remembered
By sunrise, Ashford House was locked down.
Nobody entered.
Nobody left.
Cole Brennan was missing.
That told me almost everything.
But not enough.
I wanted proof.
More importantly, I wanted my daughters alive.
Emma sat at the breakfast table between Claire and Harper.
Ava entered on crutches.
“You’re supposed to be resting.”
“So are you.”
“I'm not seventeen.”
“Exactly. You're old.”
Harper laughed.
For half a second, the house felt normal.
Then Emma looked at me.
“Daddy?”
Every sound stopped.
Three years.
I had dreamed about hearing that word again.
I crouched beside her.
“Yes, sweetheart.”
“Is the bad man coming?”
I wanted to lie.
Claire answered first.
“No.”
Emma looked at her.
“Promise?”
Claire hesitated.
I saw it.
So did Emma.
Claire took her hand.
“I promise we won’t let him hurt you.”
That was different.
Not that he wasn’t coming.
That we would stop him.
Ava noticed too.
“Dad.”
“I know.”
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
“Vale.”
Cole’s voice came through.
“Welcome home.”
Every guard in the room stiffened.
“Where are you?”
He laughed.
“You always did skip the polite part.”
“You shot my daughter.”
“No. Peter did.”
“Peter is dead.”
“He was careless.”
My grip tightened.
“You killed Isabella.”
Silence.
Then—
“Claire told you.”
I looked across the table.
Claire’s face changed.
Cole continued.
“She always was difficult to kill.”
Claire took the phone.
“Hello, Daniel.”
Nobody moved.
Cole’s voice lost its amusement.
“You should have stayed dead.”
“You should have checked.”
“Give the phone back to Vale.”
“No.”
“Claire.”
“You murdered his wife because she found your accounts.”
A pause.
Then Cole laughed.
“She found more than accounts.”
I took the phone.
“What did she find?”
“The same thing you’re looking for now.”
“What?”
“The person above me.”
My blood chilled.
Cole had been my security chief.
If he was answering to someone—
“Who?”
“You think I’m stupid?”
“I think you’re a dead man negotiating for time.”
“Maybe.”
He paused.
“But I have something you want.”
My office screen suddenly turned on.
Security footage appeared.
My garage.
One of my guards was tied to a chair.
Cole stood behind him.
“Come alone.”
Claire shook her head immediately.
Cole smiled into the camera.
“Bring Claire, actually.”
“No.”
“Then your man dies.”
The screen went black.
Ava slammed her hand on the table.
“You’re not going.”
“I am.”
“That’s exactly what he wants.”
“I know.”
Claire stood.
“I’m going with you.”
“No.”
She stared at me.
“You don't command me.”
“In this house, I command everybody.”
“Then fire me.”
“This isn’t funny.”
“I’m not joking.”
Emma suddenly grabbed Claire’s hand.
“No.”
Claire knelt.
“Emma—”
“He hurts you.”
The child was shaking.
Claire wrapped both hands around hers.
“Look at me.”
Emma did.
“I survived him once.”
“You got hurt.”
“Yes.”
Emma touched the scar on Claire’s arm.
Claire smiled faintly.
“But I’m still here.”
I watched them.
Something uncomfortable moved through my chest.
My daughters trusted Claire.
Maybe more than they trusted me.
Because I had spent years protecting them with walls, guns, guards, and fear.
Claire had protected them by listening.
“We do this my way,” I said.
Claire stood.
“What’s your way?”
“We make Cole believe I’m coming alone.”
Ava raised an eyebrow.
“And then?”
I looked toward the six men waiting by the door.
May you like
“Then we remind him whose house he broke into.”
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