Chapter 5 - THE SECRET BENEATH HER SKIN
The X-ray showed something that should not have been there.
A tiny metallic cylinder.
Four millimeters long.
Embedded beneath the scar on Hannah’s wrist.
She stared at the image inside Vincent’s private medical facility while a surgeon explained that the object had likely been inserted when she was an infant.
Hannah heard only half the words.
Foreign body.
Old surgical scar.
No immediate danger.
Removal possible.
She looked at Sarah.
“You knew?”
Sarah sat nearby with her shoulder bandaged.
“Yes.”
Hannah laughed bitterly.
“Of course you did.”
“Hannah—”
“What else?”
Sarah lowered her eyes.
“What else have you lied about?”
“I lied so you could have a childhood.”
“I had a childhood built around someone else’s secrets.”
“You had school. Friends. Christmas mornings.”
“And a mother who faked her death.”
Sarah flinched.
Vincent stood near the window.
He had barely spoken since the cemetery.
Hannah looked at him.
“And apparently my biological father is your secret half-brother.”
“Correct.”
“Who may be trying to kidnap me.”
“Correct.”
“Anything else?”
Vincent thought.
“My father may have helped murder your mother.”
Hannah stared.
“Thank you. Very reassuring.”
Marcus almost smiled.
The surgeon removed the cylinder under local anesthetic.
Inside it was not a key.
It was a strip of microfilm.
Marcus held it beneath magnification.
Numbers.
Bank accounts.
Dates.
Initials.
Vincent recognized several immediately.
Judges.
Police commanders.
Two former mayors.
Men who had built Chicago fortunes.
Sarah whispered, “Clara’s part of the Ledger.”
Vincent looked at her.
“You said there were three.”
“Yes.”
“Where is mine?”
Sarah stared at him.
“Your father gave it to you.”
“No.”
“He did.”
“When?”
“The night Clara died.”
Vincent froze.
Memory moved behind his eyes.
Fire.
Sirens.
His father pulling him into a car.
Vincent screaming Clara’s name.
Then his father pushing something into his hand.
A gold Saint Christopher medal.
Vincent reached beneath his shirt.
He still wore it.
Every day.
For twenty-four years.
Marcus stared.
“You’re kidding.”
Vincent removed the chain.
Sarah nodded.
“That’s it.”
He cracked open the back.
Another strip of microfilm rested inside.
Vincent looked furious.
“He made me carry evidence of his crimes around my neck.”
“No,” Sarah said.
Vincent looked at her.
“He made you carry evidence against the men above him.”
“What?”
“Your father wasn’t innocent.”
Sarah’s voice remained calm.
“But he tried to get out.”
Vincent stared at her.
“He agreed to help Clara expose them.”
“Then why did she say he arranged the fire?”
“Because when Clara made that recording, she believed he had betrayed her.”
“And later?”
“She learned the truth too late.”
Hannah rubbed her bandaged wrist.
“What’s the third piece?”
Sarah looked toward her.
“Gabriel has it.”
Vincent laughed coldly.
“Convenient.”
“He stole it before the fire.”
“So he has spent twenty-four years waiting for the other two.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because the complete Ledger doesn’t only expose corruption.”
Sarah looked frightened.
“It leads to money.”
Marcus frowned.
“How much?”
“Enough to start wars.”
Vincent’s phone rang.
He checked the screen.
Dominic.
Everyone went silent.
Vincent answered.
“Where are you?”
Dominic laughed.
“You sound upset.”
“You burned Clara’s photograph.”
“So you found the fireplace.”
“I’ll find you next.”
“That’s why I called.”
Vincent’s eyes narrowed.
Dominic continued.
“You’ve been asking the wrong question.”
“Which is?”
“Why did Hannah get assigned to Duca Manor?”
Vincent looked at Hannah.
Dominic said, “I arranged it.”
Hannah’s face changed.
“Why?”
“Because Sarah asked me to.”
Everyone turned toward Sarah.
Vincent’s gaze became deadly.
Sarah whispered, “Dominic…”
Dominic laughed.
“She didn’t tell you?”
Vincent stepped toward Sarah.
“Explain.”
Sarah stood.
“I needed Hannah near you.”
“Why?”
“Because Gabriel found her.”
Hannah felt sick.
“When?”
“Six months ago.”
Sarah continued.
“He had photographs. Her apartment. Her work. Her friends.”
“So you put me in the house of a mafia boss?”
“I put you beside the only man Gabriel was afraid to challenge openly.”
Vincent looked at the phone.
“Dominic.”
“Yes?”
“Why are you helping Gabriel now?”
Silence.
Then Dominic sighed.
“I’m not.”
Vincent frowned.
“Then what are you doing?”
“Trying to keep you alive.”
A crash came from the corridor.
Marcus turned.
The lights died.
Emergency alarms began screaming.
Vincent grabbed Hannah.
“Stay behind me.”
Smoke poured beneath the door.
Sarah’s face went white.
“No.”
Hannah looked at her.
“What?”
Sarah stared at the smoke.
“He always does this.”
“Who?”
“Gabriel.”
The door exploded inward.
Two armed men entered.
Vincent fired.
Marcus tackled another.
Hannah dropped behind the examination table.
Sarah screamed.
Gunfire filled the room.
Then a hand grabbed Hannah from behind.
A cloth covered her mouth.
She kicked.
Fought.
Bit someone.
A needle entered her neck.
The room tilted.
The last thing Hannah saw was Vincent reaching for her through smoke.
“Hannah!”
Then darkness.
When she opened her eyes, she was inside a moving car.
Her wrists were bound.
A man sat opposite her.
Late forties.
Gray at his temples.
Dark eyes.
Her eyes.
He smiled.
“Hello, Hannah.”
Her breath stopped.
He leaned forward.
“I’m Gabriel.”
Hannah stared at the father she had never known.
Gabriel’s smile disappeared.
“And Vincent Duca has lied to you about the most important part.”
“What part?”
May you like
Gabriel looked directly into her eyes.
“Clara Vale isn’t dead.”
