Chapter 4 - The Man Who Came Back
Darkness transformed the apartment.
One second, Elena could see Damian near the window.
The next, she could see nothing.
“Down,” Damian ordered.
Elena crouched behind the kitchen island.
Marisol dropped beside her.
Somewhere near the hallway, a man shouted.
Then came a crash.
A gunshot sounded from the foyer.
Marisol grabbed Elena’s hand.
“Stay low.”
Emergency lights flickered on.
Red strips along the floor illuminated the room.
Dominic appeared near the hall.
“Service stairwell breached.”
“How many?” Damian asked.
“At least three.”
Eric looked toward Elena.
“This is because of me.”
“No,” Damian said. “It’s because someone on my payroll gave them the building.”
Another gunshot.
Glass shattered near the entry.
Damian moved toward Elena.
“There’s a secondary exit behind the pantry.”
“You have a secret exit behind the pantry?”
“This is not the time.”
“It is an insane apartment.”
“I agree.”
He pushed open a narrow panel.
A service corridor waited behind it.
Dominic sent two guards ahead.
They moved quickly.
Elena’s breathing became shallow as they descended two flights through a concrete stairwell.
She kept one hand against her stomach.
Please stay okay.
Please stay okay.
They reached the parking level.
A black SUV waited.
Then one of Damian’s guards suddenly raised his weapon.
Not toward the garage entrance.
Toward Damian.
Dominic reacted first.
He slammed the man’s arm aside.
The gun fired into the ceiling.
Everyone screamed.
Dominic drove the traitor against a concrete pillar.
The weapon clattered away.
Damian stared at the man.
“Michael.”
The guard spat blood.
“Victor says you were never strong enough.”
Damian’s face went cold.
“You’ve worked for me for nine years.”
“I worked for the Cross family.”
“No.”
Damian stepped closer.
“You worked for the man who paid you.”
Police sirens approached.
Michael smiled.
“You’re still too late.”
A vehicle engine roared from the far end of the garage.
A van accelerated toward them.
Damian shoved Elena behind a pillar.
The van passed within feet before smashing through a security gate and disappearing into traffic.
Inside it sat the men who had entered the apartment.
They had escaped.
But Michael had not.
Dominic restrained him until police arrived.
By sunrise, Elena was exhausted.
They relocated again, this time to an old hotel suite secretly owned by one of Damian’s legitimate partners.
Elena refused to sleep until Eric told her everything.
“No more protecting me with lies.”
Eric nodded.
“All right.”
“Why did your recording say the money wasn’t the real secret?”
“Because Victor’s network is bigger than Cross Urban.”
He explained that the payment records connected Victor to judges, police officers, union officials, private investigators, doctors, and city inspectors.
Some were bribed.
Some blackmailed.
Some simply loyal.
Northstar Medical Consulting had been particularly useful.
Medical records could expose addiction.
Pregnancy.
Illness.
DNA.
Anything people wanted hidden.
Elena felt sick.
“So whoever accessed my ultrasound—”
“May have done it through Victor’s network.”
Damian shook his head.
“No. The screenshot came from my archive.”
Eric looked at him.
“Then Victor had both.”
Both methods.
Both systems.
Both sides of Elena’s life.
She looked at Damian.
“Why are you fighting him now?”
His expression remained steady.
“Because I should have done it sooner.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
Damian walked to the window.
“My father taught me that family loyalty mattered more than law.”
Eric watched silently.
Damian continued.
“When I was twenty-two, I believed him. When I was twenty-eight, I knew better but still told myself I could change things from inside.”
“And now?”
“Now an innocent woman is being hunted because someone used my phone to manufacture a story.”
He turned.
“And a child who has nothing to do with us is being treated like property.”
Elena did not know what to say.
Eric did.
“You could walk away.”
Damian looked at him.
“So could you.”
The words landed hard.
Eric lowered his eyes.
Later that morning, Eric asked Elena to speak privately.
They stood beside the hotel room window while snow drifted over the Chicago River.
“I did love you,” he said.
Elena folded her arms.
“Past tense?”
“I don’t know what I’m allowed to say anymore.”
“You’re allowed to tell the truth.”
He nodded.
“I loved you. I probably still do.”
Her chest tightened.
“But when Victor threatened you, I panicked.”
“You disappeared.”
“Yes.”
“You left me pregnant and alone.”
“Yes.”
“You don’t get to turn that into sacrifice.”
“I know.”
For once, he did not ask forgiveness.
That helped more than excuses would have.
“I want to be part of the baby’s life,” Eric said.
Elena looked at him.
“If you’re the father, you have responsibilities.”
“If?”
“After fake documents and stolen blood tubes, I am not trusting anything without an independent test.”
Eric almost smiled.
“That sounds fair.”
Their conversation ended when Damian entered carrying Eric’s silver compass.
“We found a second compartment.”
Eric’s head snapped up.
“There isn’t one.”
“There is.”
Inside the compass was a narrow strip of paper.
Not digital.
Handwritten.
A sequence of numbers.
Eric stared.
“I’ve never seen that.”
Damian studied him.
“I believe you.”
They eventually realized it was a bank deposit-box number.
The bank was less than two miles away.
Eric suddenly remembered something.
“Victor’s father used private deposit boxes for original documents. He never trusted digital records.”
Damian looked at Elena.
“The original ledger.”
They went to the bank under heavy security.
The manager initially refused access.
Then Elena noticed the name attached to the box.
CARTER, ELENA M.
Her blood turned cold.
“I never opened a deposit box.”
The manager checked again.
“It was opened seven weeks ago.”
“By whom?”
“Identification was presented in person.”
Eric whispered, “That was before I disappeared.”
The manager brought security footage.
A man in a baseball cap entered the bank.
When he looked toward the camera, Elena recognized Eric.
She slowly turned.
“You opened it.”
Eric stared at the screen.
“No.”
“That’s you.”
“I have never been inside this bank.”
Damian leaned closer.
Something bothered him.
“Freeze it.”
The image stopped.
Damian pointed to the man’s left hand.
“No scar.”
Eric looked down.
A white scar crossed his left thumb from a childhood accident.
The man in the footage had none.
“Someone impersonated him,” Elena whispered.
The box required Elena’s signature.
The bank compared it to her driver’s license.
It matched.
Except Elena had never signed it.
Victor had created a box in her name.
Why?
The manager opened it under police supervision.
Inside sat one envelope.
Elena’s name was written across the front.
She opened it.
There were photographs.
Dozens.
Elena entering work.
Elena buying groceries.
Elena visiting Camille.
Eric meeting Damian.
Damian meeting federal investigators.
And one photograph taken outside Elena’s obstetric clinic.
On the back, someone had written:
THE CHILD CHANGES EVERYTHING.
Beneath the photographs was a single document.
A copy of Damian Cross’s father’s will.
Damian read one paragraph.
Then his face went pale.
“What?” Elena asked.
He handed it to Eric.
Eric read it.
Then looked at Elena.
“Damian’s father changed the trust before he died.”
“How?”
Damian answered.
“If I have a legally recognized child before age thirty-five, control of the family voting trust transfers from Victor to me.”
Elena stared.
“And when do you turn thirty-five?”
Damian looked at his watch as though the answer itself disgusted him.
“In nineteen days.”
Everything suddenly made sense.
Victor did not need Elena’s baby forever.
He needed a baby that could publicly be called Damian’s long enough to manipulate the trust.
A forged DNA test.
A public scandal.
A desperate mother.
Then once Damian gained control, Victor could force him to surrender it—or destroy him and control the assets through the supposed heir.
Eric cursed quietly.
But Elena was still staring at the photographs.
One picture was different.
It had been taken only hours earlier.
It showed the hotel where they were currently hiding.
The timestamp was 9:14 a.m.
Elena looked at the clock.
9:31.
Seventeen minutes ago.
Damian’s phone rang.
He answered.
No one spoke.
Then a photograph appeared on his screen.
Camille.
Elena’s sister.
Sitting in a chair.
Terrified.
A man stood behind her.
Victor Cross.
A message followed.
May you like
BRING ELENA AND THE LEDGER.
OR HER SISTER DOESN’T COME HOME.
