Chapter 6 - THE BOY WHO TOOK THE BULLET
“Stay with me!”
Iris pressed both hands against Ethan’s wound as hospital staff rushed into the safe room.
There was too much blood.
Far too much.
“Ethan!”
A trauma surgeon pulled her away.
“We need space.”
“He needs me.”
“He needs surgery.”
Victoria wrapped her arms around Iris from behind as doctors loaded Ethan onto a stretcher.
Iris fought against her.
“Let me go!”
“Evelyn.”
That name stopped her.
Victoria whispered against her hair.
“Let them save him.”
Iris collapsed.
The bullet had entered Ethan’s upper abdomen.
It missed his heart.
Missed his lungs.
But damaged his liver and severed a major vessel.
For three hours, Iris sat outside surgery wearing Ethan’s blood.
Victoria remained beside her.
Neither spoke much.
At one point Iris whispered, “This happened because of me.”
“No.”
“If he hadn’t been here—”
“Thomas did this.”
“He was protecting me.”
“Yes.”
“That means it was because of me.”
Victoria turned toward her.
“When I lost you, I spent years blaming myself. Every decision. Every meeting. Every person I trusted.”
She paused.
“Blame feels like control. If we caused something, then maybe we can believe we could have prevented it. But sometimes evil belongs entirely to the person who chose it.”
Iris said nothing.
Victoria took her hand.
“Do not carry Thomas Vale’s guilt for him.”
At one twenty-seven in the morning, the surgeon appeared.
“He made it.”
Iris sobbed.
The surgeon continued.
“He lost significant blood, but we repaired the vessel. The next twenty-four hours matter.”
Iris hugged him before realizing what she was doing.
The surprised surgeon laughed.
“I’ll take that as a thank-you.”
By sunrise, federal agents had identified the shooter.
He worked for a private security contractor connected to Thomas Vale.
But Thomas himself had vanished.
His mansion was empty.
Private jet unused.
Phones abandoned.
Bank accounts untouched.
“He had another escape plan,” Victoria said.
Agent Laura Bennett nodded.
“And probably help.”
The investigation expanded.
Then another surprise came.
Ian Kensington requested to speak with Iris.
She refused.
He asked again.
Refused.
On the third attempt, the agent said, “He claims he has information about Thomas Vale.”
That changed things.
Ian sat inside an interview room looking nothing like the confident boy from the competition.
His eyes were swollen.
His hands shook.
Iris sat across from him with Victoria and Agent Bennett nearby.
“You have five minutes,” Iris said.
Ian looked at her.
“I’m sorry.”
“No. Information.”
He flinched.
“I didn’t know they were dangerous.”
“Who?”
“Isabella’s father.”
Victoria straightened.
“Richard Morgan?”
Ian nodded.
“Mr. Morgan contacted me two months ago. He knew you were helping me with the design.”
“Helping?”
Ian looked ashamed.
“He knew it was yours.”
Iris’s jaw tightened.
“He offered to make sure I won if I submitted it under my name.”
“Why?”
“I thought because Isabella wanted me.”
“And?”
Ian swallowed.
“He asked questions about you.”
Victoria’s expression changed.
“What questions?”
“Where she lived. Who her friends were. Whether she remembered her parents.”
Iris went cold.
Ian continued.
“I thought it was because he was checking scholarship backgrounds.”
“Did you tell him about the accident?”
“Yes.”
“What else?”
“The birthmark.”
Victoria stood so abruptly her chair scraped across the floor.
Agent Bennett leaned forward.
“How did you know about her birthmark?”
Ian looked at Iris.
“You showed me once.”
She remembered.
A summer afternoon.
Ian tracing it with his thumb.
Telling her it was beautiful.
Now the memory made her sick.
“What did Morgan say when you told him?”
Ian whispered, “He said, ‘Interesting.’”
Agent Bennett immediately left to make a call.
Victoria stared at Ian.
“Anything else?”
“Yesterday, after the competition, Mr. Morgan called me. He was furious. He said I had ruined everything.”
“Did he mention Thomas?”
“No. But…”
Ian hesitated.
“What?”
“I once saw them together.”
“Who?”
“Mr. Morgan and Thomas Vale.”
Victoria’s face went still.
“Where?”
“At Isabella’s house.”
Richard Morgan was not merely protecting Thomas.
He might have been part of the network for years.
Within an hour, agents arrived at the Morgan residence.
Empty.
Isabella had disappeared with her father.
Their phones were found in the kitchen sink.
On Richard’s desk was a shredded document.
Technicians reconstructed enough to read several lines.
ARCHER SUCCESSION CONTINGENCY.
EVELYN ARCHER — STATUS UNKNOWN.
IF CONFIRMED ALIVE, CONTROL TRANSFERS—
Victoria stared at it.
“What does that mean?”
Her attorney answered.
“It means your father’s original trust may contain a clause nobody knew about.”
They retrieved the sealed Archer family trust from a private legal archive.
The clause was stunning.
If Evelyn Archer were alive and reached twenty-one, twenty-five percent of Archer Group voting control transferred directly to her.
Victoria held another forty-one percent.
Together, mother and daughter would control sixty-six percent.
Thomas had spent decades acquiring proxy influence over the remaining shares.
If Iris were legally confirmed as Evelyn, everything Thomas had built toward would collapse.
“That’s why he needs her dead,” Agent Bennett said.
Victoria’s eyes turned to steel.
“Then make the DNA result public.”
Everyone stared at her.
Her attorney spoke first.
“That could increase the danger.”
“No.”
Victoria looked toward Iris.
“It changes the battlefield.”
“How?”
“Thomas is hiding because he thinks secrecy protects him. If the world knows Evelyn Archer is alive, then every law-enforcement agency, every journalist, every investor, and every employee will watch what happens to her.”
Iris understood.
“You want to make me impossible to disappear.”
Victoria nodded.
The press conference was scheduled for noon.
At eleven fifty-eight, hundreds of reporters waited outside Archer Tower.
Victoria and Iris stood behind the curtain.
“You ready?” Victoria asked.
“No.”
“Good. Me neither.”
Iris almost smiled.
Then Margaret approached holding a phone.
“There’s a livestream.”
“From who?”
“We don’t know.”
She turned the screen.
Isabella Morgan appeared.
She was crying.
A man stood behind her.
Thomas Vale.
He held a gun.
Richard Morgan knelt nearby with blood on his face.
Thomas smiled into the camera.
“Victoria.”
Iris’s breath caught.
Thomas continued.
“You wanted the world watching.”
His smile widened.
“Now it can.”
May you like
He lifted the gun toward Isabella.
“Bring Evelyn to me.”
