Chapter 5 - THE NIGHT DOMINIC DIED
Smoke climbed the staircase faster than Marcus expected.
“Sophia!”
He grabbed her arm.
She was staring at the speaker on the bed.
Lily's recorded voice played again.
“Mommy?”
Sophia reached for it.
Marcus pulled her away.
“Leave it.”
“That recording came from tonight.”
“How do you know?”
“She sounds scared.”
Another explosion shook the house.
Marcus dragged Sophia toward the back hallway.
The estate had been built by his grandfather.
Marcus knew every hidden corridor.
Or at least he used to.
“There.”
He kicked open a narrow service door.
A staircase descended behind the wall.
Sophia coughed.
“What about Victor?”
“He knows the house.”
“That's your father.”
Marcus looked back toward the fire.
“Yes.”
For the first time in eighteen years, the word felt real.
He led Sophia downstairs.
They emerged through an old wine cellar and into the backyard.
Cold air struck their faces.
Marcus turned toward the mansion.
Flames glowed through the windows.
Sophia grabbed his arm.
“Someone's coming.”
Victor stumbled from a side entrance.
His jacket was burning.
Marcus ran toward him and threw him onto the wet grass, smothering the flames.
Victor coughed violently.
“You could have warned me Mercer wired the house.”
“I didn't know.”
Marcus helped him sit.
“You expect me to believe that?”
Victor looked toward Sophia.
“Ask her what she remembers about November second.”
Sophia froze.
Marcus turned.
“The night Dominic died?”
Sophia shook her head.
“I wasn't there.”
Victor laughed weakly.
“You were closer than you think.”
Sophia stared at him.
“What does that mean?”
Victor reached into his coat and removed a small metal key.
“Dominic rented a storage box under your name.”
Sophia's eyes widened.
“I never—”
“He knew Mercer was watching him. Anything under his own name would be found.”
Victor handed Marcus the key.
A number was engraved on it.
“Where?”
“Union Station.”
Marcus recognized the old private storage facility beneath the terminal.
“What's inside?”
“The reason Dominic died.”
Sirens approached.
Victor looked toward the road.
“Those yours?”
Marcus shook his head.
“No signal.”
Victor struggled to stand.
“Then they're Mercer's.”
Three black SUVs appeared beyond the gates.
Marcus grabbed Sophia.
“Move.”
They ran toward the trees behind the estate.
Victor followed slower.
Gunshots cracked through the night.
A tree splintered beside Marcus.
Sophia ducked.
“Keep moving!”
They reached the old boathouse near the lake.
Marcus shoved open the door.
An antique speedboat sat inside.
Victor laughed.
“That thing hasn't run in twenty years.”
Marcus climbed in.
“You said the same thing about yourself.”
He turned the ignition.
Nothing.
Gunfire hit the wooden wall.
Sophia crouched.
“Marcus!”
He tried again.
The engine roared.
Victor smiled despite himself.
“Your mother always loved that boat.”
Marcus drove it through the boathouse doors and onto the dark lake.
Bullets struck the water behind them.
Sophia held tightly to the seat.
Marcus didn't slow until the estate disappeared.
Twenty minutes later, Rafael met them at a private marina.
His face changed when he saw Victor.
“Well.”
Victor smiled.
“Rafael Ortega.”
“You're supposed to be dead.”
“So people keep telling me.”
Rafael looked at Marcus.
“Lily?”
“Mercer.”
“I traced the ambulance.”
“Where?”
“Abandoned near Waukegan.”
“Driver?”
“Gone.”
“Cameras?”
“Working on it.”
Marcus showed him the key.
“Union Station. Locker 317.”
Victor corrected him.
“Not locker. Private vault.”
Marcus looked at Sophia.
“You stay with Rafael.”
“No.”
“Sophia.”
“My daughter is missing because of something connected to Dominic. I'm going.”
Victor watched her.
“She has more of Dominic in her than I expected.”
Sophia turned on him.
“You don't get to talk about him like you cared.”
Victor's expression tightened.
“You know nothing about what I did for my sons.”
“I know one died while you disappeared.”
Victor said nothing.
Marcus stepped between them.
“Enough.”
They drove downtown.
At 1:07 a.m., Marcus, Sophia, and Rafael entered Union Station through a maintenance entrance Victor remembered.
Beneath the terminal was a corridor of old private storage vaults once rented to wealthy travelers.
Vault 317 opened with the metal key.
Inside sat one object.
A small leather bag.
Sophia recognized it.
“Oh my God.”
“What?”
“Dominic had that bag.”
Marcus opened it.
Inside was an old digital recorder.
A flash drive.
And an envelope.
SOPHIA.
Her hands shook as she opened it.
The letter was handwritten.
Sophia,
If you're reading this, I failed to come back.
I'm sorry for lying about my name.
I'm sorry for leaving you with questions.
And I'm sorry because I know you're pregnant.
Sophia stopped reading.
Tears fell onto the paper.
Marcus looked away, giving her what privacy he could.
She continued.
I saw the test in your bathroom. You hadn't told me yet. I think you were waiting until I came home from Milwaukee.
I was going to tell you everything.
My name.
My family.
What I was trying to stop.
If our baby is born, keep him or her away from my world.
Do not trust Ethan Cross.
Sophia gasped.
Marcus turned.
She read aloud.
“He approached you because of me.”
Her voice shook.
“He works for Caleb Mercer.”
Rafael swore quietly.
Sophia continued.
Ethan knows I care about you. He may believe I gave you evidence.
I didn't.
I couldn't put you in that danger.
The evidence is somewhere only my brother can unlock.
Marcus looked at the flash drive.
Sophia kept reading.
Marcus will seem cold.
He isn't.
He's spent his entire life believing protecting people means standing far enough away that his enemies cannot see what he loves.
If you ever meet him, tell him he was wrong about me.
Tell him I wasn't running from the family.
I was trying to save it.
Sophia lowered the letter.
Marcus stood motionless.
Rafael looked away.
Victor had remained outside, refusing to enter the vault.
Marcus picked up the digital recorder.
He pressed play.
Dominic's voice filled the room.
“November second. 8:43 p.m.”
Marcus closed his eyes.
His brother.
After six years.
“If this recording survives and I don't, Caleb Mercer is operating a trafficking and money-laundering network through Cross Meridian. Ethan Cross manages financial records.”
Sophia covered her mouth.
Dominic continued.
“My father knows Mercer betrayed him. That's why Victor staged his death. He believed disappearing would expose Mercer's partners.”
Marcus looked toward the corridor.
Victor had told the truth.
Part of it.
“But Victor doesn't know everything.”
Marcus frowned.
“Mercer has someone inside the family.”
The recording crackled.
“I don't know who.”
A noise sounded in the background.
Dominic whispered.
“Someone's here.”
Then a second voice entered.
Sophia stiffened.
She knew that voice.
Ethan.
“David?”
The recording captured footsteps.
Dominic said, “You shouldn't be here.”
Ethan answered, “Neither should you.”
Then another voice spoke.
A woman's voice.
Marcus went pale.
“No.”
Sophia looked at him.
“You recognize her?”
Marcus took the recorder.
He replayed it.
The woman said:
“Dominic, give us the drive.”
Marcus's hand shook.
Rafael whispered, “Who is that?”
Marcus couldn't answer.
Because the voice belonged to someone he had mourned almost as deeply as Dominic.
His mother.
Evelyn Voss.
Sophia stared.
“Your mother?”
Marcus pressed play again.
The recording continued.
Dominic sounded devastated.
“Mom?”
Evelyn replied.
“You don't understand what you've found.”
“You're working with Mercer?”
“No. I'm trying to keep both of you alive.”
A gunshot exploded through the recording.
Sophia jumped.
Then chaos.
Dominic breathing hard.
Ethan shouting.
A car engine.
Another gunshot.
The recording ended.
Marcus stared at the device.
His mother had died three years after Dominic.
Cancer.
At least that was what Marcus had been told.
Now every certainty in his family history seemed rotten.
Rafael examined the flash drive.
“We need to open this.”
Marcus connected it to an isolated laptop.
Password request.
Sophia whispered, “Grace.”
He typed it.
Wrong.
“Lily's birthday.”
Wrong.
Marcus remembered Dominic's letter.
The evidence is somewhere only my brother can unlock.
Something only Marcus knew.
He thought about childhood.
Two brothers hiding from their father's arguments.
A treehouse.
A secret phrase.
Marcus typed:
NEVERBOW.
The drive opened.
Thousands of documents appeared.
Names.
Payments.
Politicians.
Judges.
Police officers.
Business executives.
Mercer's entire network.
Then Sophia saw a folder.
LILY.
“How could that folder exist? Dominic died before she was born.”
Marcus opened it.
The files had been added recently.
Someone else had accessed Dominic's drive.
Photographs of Lily.
Medical records.
School records.
Custody filings.
And one DNA report.
Marcus opened it.
Probability of biological relationship:
99.98%.
Dominic Voss.
Sophia began crying.
There was no longer any doubt.
Lily was Dominic's daughter.
Marcus's niece.
Then Rafael pointed toward another file.
“Marcus.”
A document had been created that evening.
TRANSFER AUTHORIZATION.
Marcus opened it.
It was a private aviation manifest.
One passenger.
LILY BENNETT.
Departure:
Chicago Executive Airport.
2:00 a.m.
Destination:
Montréal.
Sophia checked the time.
1:31.
“We have twenty-nine minutes.”
Marcus grabbed the drive.
They ran.
But as they reached the corridor, Victor was gone.
In his place lay his cane.
And a note.
Marcus picked it up.
Two sentences.
MERCER KNOWS ABOUT THE AIRPORT.
DON'T FOLLOW ME.
Then Marcus's phone regained signal.
A video call appeared.
Ethan.
Sophia answered before Marcus could stop her.
Lily appeared on the screen.
Crying.
“Mommy!”
Sophia's heart broke.
“Baby, I'm here.”
Ethan moved into view.
He smiled.
“Hello, Sophia.”
“Don't hurt her.”
“I've never wanted to hurt Lily.”
“You took her from a hospital.”
“I saved her from people far more dangerous than me.”
Marcus stepped into view.
Ethan's smile disappeared.
“So,” he said.
“The famous Marcus Voss.”
“Where are you?”
“You already know.”
“Airport.”
Ethan laughed.
“You have twenty-eight minutes.”
“For what?”
“To decide.”
“Decide what?”
Ethan turned the camera toward Lily.
Then back.
“Bring me Dominic's drive.”
Sophia whispered, “And you give me Lily?”
“No.”
Ethan smiled.
“I give you a choice.”
He leaned closer to the camera.
“Your daughter…”
A pause.
May you like
“Or Marcus Voss.”
The screen went black.
