Chapter 2 - MY GODFATHER STOLE MY SISTER’S CHILD—THEN ORDERED ME TO MURDER MY OWN BROTHER BEFORE SUNRISE
Damian had been ordered to kill men before.
He had never been ordered to kill his brother.
Claire’s sobbing came through the phone.
“Damian, please.”
“Where are you?”
“At home.”
“Are you alone?”
“Yes.”
“Security?”
“Two men downstairs.”
“Names?”
She told him.
Gabriel immediately checked.
Both men belonged to Vincent’s old security division.
Compromised.
Damian’s voice stayed level.
“Claire, go into the bathroom.”
“What?”
“Take the phone.”
She obeyed.
“Lock the door.”
“Okay.”
“Window?”
“Second floor.”
“Can you open it?”
“Yes.”
“Do it.”
Julian stared at Damian.
Norah had gone pale.
Damian continued.
“Gabriel is sending people.”
“Vincent said no police.”
“He doesn’t decide.”
“Damian—”
“Sophie comes home.”
He paused.
“So do you.”
Claire began crying again.
“Why is my name on those accounts?”
Damian’s gaze moved toward Norah.
“You know?”
“Vincent showed me.”
“Did you sign anything?”
“No.”
“Did you authorize anything?”
“No.”
“Then stop worrying about money.”
“He says you’ll think I betrayed you.”
“I don’t.”
Silence.
“Really?”
“Really.”
That mattered.
Vincent’s entire plan depended on suspicion.
Damian would not give him any.
Gabriel sent a team to Claire.
Within seven minutes, she was safe.
Sophie was not.
The girl was fourteen.
Smart.
Stubborn.
Loved horses.
Hated algebra.
Damian had given her a gold bracelet for her birthday.
GPS enabled.
Claire had called it paranoid.
Tonight, paranoia became useful.
Gabriel checked.
The bracelet had stopped transmitting at 9:16.
Last location:
Callaway Equestrian Center.
Norah looked at the map.
“Vincent knows you’ll check.”
“Yes.”
“So that location is deliberate.”
“Yes.”
Julian paced.
“We go there.”
“No.”
“Damian—”
“No.”
“She’s our niece.”
“And you’re the man Vincent ordered me to kill.”
Julian stopped.
“What?”
Damian told him.
Julian stared.
Then laughed.
Not because it was funny.
“Of course.”
“What?”
“He wants you to think I helped him.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve been questioning Vincent for months.”
Damian’s eyes narrowed.
“You never told me.”
“You don’t like people questioning him.”
That was true.
Painfully.
Norah looked between them.
“Stop.”
Both brothers looked at her.
“This is exactly what Vincent wants.”
She pointed.
“You’re already arguing about who failed to tell whom what.”
Damian closed his mouth.
Julian did too.
Norah continued.
“He forged Julian’s signature. Claire’s credentials. Damian’s biometrics.”
She looked at Damian.
“He doesn’t need to defeat your family.”
“He needs us to defeat each other.”
“Yes.”
Damian sat.
“Then we don’t.”
Simple.
Not easy.
At 1:13 a.m., Vincent called.
Video.
Sophie appeared.
Alive.
Unhurt.
Terrified.
Vincent stood behind her.
Gray-haired.
Elegant.
Calm.
“Damian.”
“Vincent.”
“Your father would be disappointed.”
“My father threatened to bury you.”
Vincent’s smile disappeared.
“So you found the recording.”
“Yes.”
“Then you know Patrick was becoming irrational.”
“You mean suspicious.”
“He wanted legitimacy.”
“So do I.”
“That disease infected you too.”
Sophie looked at the camera.
“Uncle Damian—”
Vincent placed a hand on her shoulder.
Damian’s eyes hardened.
“Take your hand off her.”
“Or?”
“Vincent.”
Something in Damian’s voice made the older man obey.
Good.
“You have until sunrise.”
“To kill Julian?”
“Yes.”
Julian stepped into view.
“Hi, Uncle Vince.”
Vincent’s face changed.
Julian smiled.
“Still alive.”
“For now.”
“Where’s Sophie?”
Vincent laughed.
“Nice try.”
Norah was recording everything.
Tracing.
Vincent noticed her.
“Ms. Whitfield.”
Norah’s expression hardened.
“You should have told Peter to stab deeper.”
Damian looked at her.
She shrugged.
“What? Too much?”
Vincent smiled.
“You’re clever.”
“Thank you.”
“That’s why you’ll die.”
Damian leaned toward the camera.
“No.”
One word.
Vincent’s smile faded.
Damian continued.
“You made a mistake.”
“Which one?”
“You touched someone I care about.”
Norah looked at him.
Vincent noticed.
That was dangerous.
Vincent smiled again.
“Interesting.”
Damian immediately regretted revealing it.
Vincent disconnected.
Norah looked at the trace.
“Got something.”
“Where?”
“Not the call location. Routing point.”
“Useful?”
“Maybe.”
She opened another file from the flash drive.
“Vincent has been paying a property company called Blue Chapel Development.”
Julian froze.
“I know that.”
“Where?”
“Old church outside Chester County.”
Damian looked at him.
“How?”
“Vincent took me there when I was a kid.”
“Why?”
Julian’s face changed.
“He said it was where our fathers settled problems.”
Of course.
They mobilized.
Police were informed through Damian’s attorney.
Federal agents too.
Damian hated involving them.
But Sophie mattered more than pride.
They found the church at 4:26 a.m.
Empty.
Except for Sophie’s bracelet.
And a note.
ONE BROTHER BEFORE SUNRISE.
Norah examined the room.
“No.”
Damian turned.
“What?”
“This isn’t a holding site.”
“How do you know?”
“No food. No restraints. No recent footprints except one set.”
Julian understood.
“Sophie was never here.”
“Correct.”
Damian looked at the bracelet.
“Then why bring this?”
Norah walked toward the altar.
“Because he wanted us away from somewhere else.”
Damian’s phone rang.
Gabriel.
“Boss.”
“What?”
“Callaway Tower.”
Damian went cold.
“What happened?”
“Fire alarm. Power failure.”
“The servers.”
“Exactly.”
Vincent was erasing records.
They drove back.
Norah worked from the car.
Then she found something.
A secondary transfer.
The $300 million was moving again.
“Where?”
She stared.
“Callaway Children’s Foundation.”
Damian frowned.
“That’s Claire’s charity.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To make her look like she stole it.”
Vincent’s plan was elegant.
Destroy Julian with forged transfers.
Destroy Claire with charity fraud.
Poison Damian.
Then take control while the Callaway siblings accused one another.
“Can you stop it?”
“Yes.”
“Do it.”
Norah hesitated.
“If I stop it, Vincent knows we can see him.”
“Let him know.”
She stopped the transfer.
Then another screen appeared.
A live login.
Someone inside Callaway Tower.
Norah traced the terminal.
Executive floor.
Damian’s private office.
They arrived at 5:31.
Gabriel’s men cleared the building.
Damian entered his office.
Empty.
His father’s portrait hung behind the desk.
Norah looked around.
Then noticed something.
“Painting.”
“What?”
“It’s crooked.”
Julian laughed.
“We’re hunting a kidnapper and you’re redecorating?”
Norah ignored him.
She lifted the portrait.
Behind it:
A safe.
Damian stared.
“I didn’t know that was there.”
“Your office.”
“My father’s before mine.”
They opened it using Patrick’s old birthday combination.
Inside were documents.
A second ledger.
Photographs.
And a letter.
DAMIAN.
His father’s handwriting.
Damian opened it.
Son,
If you are reading this, Vincent has finally moved against you.
I was too proud to admit I created the man who would betray us.
Vincent believes family weakness is love.
He will attack Julian because Julian wants freedom.
He will attack Claire because she has compassion.
He will attack you because you believe strength means carrying everything alone.
Do not give him what he expects.
Trust your brother.
Trust your sister.
And when someone outside this family risks herself to tell you the truth, do not punish her for seeing what you failed to see.
Damian stopped reading.
Norah looked away.
Julian whispered, “Dad knew.”
“Yes.”
The final line:
Vincent cannot inherit Callaway Holdings while all three of my children remain alive and united.
Damian understood.
The inheritance structure.
If Damian died or became incapacitated, control divided between Julian and Claire.
If one sibling was implicated in the death of another, their voting shares became frozen pending investigation.
Vincent controlled the trustee company.
He wanted legal control.
Not merely money.
Julian looked at Damian.
“He needs us broken.”
“Yes.”
“So?”
Damian folded the letter.
“We stay together.”
At 6:02, sunrise beginning over Philadelphia, Vincent called again.
He looked furious.
“You failed.”
Damian smiled.
“No.”
“Sophie dies.”
“No.”
Vincent raised the camera.
Sophie was there.
Behind her, a distinctive window.
Norah gasped.
Damian looked at her.
“What?”
“I know that room.”
“Where?”
“The Camden Regency.”
Damian froze.
“The ballroom?”
“No.”
Norah remembered.
“Twenty-third floor. Private accounting suites.”
The gala had never been merely a distraction.
Vincent had kept Sophie inside the same hotel all night.
They had been searching across Pennsylvania while she remained less than two hundred yards from the ballroom.
Damian looked into the camera.
“Vincent.”
“Yes?”
“You should have killed me when you had the chance.”
He ended the call.
They reached the Camden Regency twelve minutes later.
Police surrounded the building quietly.
Damian, Julian, and Gabriel went upstairs.
Norah refused to stay behind.
“Absolutely not.”
“I’m coming.”
“You were stabbed six hours ago.”
“And I’m still smarter than most of your men.”
Gabriel coughed.
Damian looked at him.
“Sorry, boss.”
Damian stared at Norah.
“You stay behind me.”
“I’ll stay somewhere sensible.”
“Norah.”
“Damian.”
Julian whispered to Gabriel, “Are they always like this?”
“Recently.”
They reached the twenty-third floor.
One guard.
Disarmed.
Second guard.
Surrendered.
Vincent waited inside the accounting suite with Sophie.
Gun against her shoulder.
Damian stopped.
Sophie cried.
“Uncle Damian.”
“I’m here.”
Vincent laughed.
“Family reunion.”
Julian stepped beside Damian.
Claire’s voice came through Damian’s earpiece.
Police had connected her.
“Tell Sophie I love her.”
Damian did.
Sophie cried harder.
Vincent said, “One last chance.”
“No.”
“Kill Julian.”
“No.”
“Then Sophie dies.”
Damian looked at his niece.
She looked terrified.
But then her eyes shifted.
Toward Norah.
Norah had moved along the glass wall.
Vincent did not notice.
Damian understood.
He kept talking.
“My father knew you betrayed him.”
“Patrick was weak.”
“He trusted you.”
“That was his weakness.”
“No.”
Damian’s voice softened.
“That was yours.”
Vincent frowned.
“You spent eleven years believing love makes people predictable.”
Damian glanced at Julian.
“My brother irritates me.”
“Frequently,” Julian said.
“My sister argues with me.”
Claire’s voice came through the earpiece.
“Constantly.”
“And Norah disobeys almost every instruction I give her.”
Norah whispered, “Because they’re usually bad.”
Even Sophie almost smiled.
Damian continued.
“But you never understood something.”
“What?”
“People who choose each other are stronger than people forced to obey.”
Norah pulled the fire alarm.
Lights flashed.
Sophie dropped.
Damian moved.
Gunshot.
Glass shattered.
Julian tackled Sophie behind a desk.
Gabriel fired.
Vincent fell.
Alive.
Wounded.
Disarmed.
Damian stood over him.
Vincent laughed weakly.
“Do it.”
Damian understood.
Kill him.
Become exactly what Vincent expected.
Damian lowered the gun.
“No.”
Vincent stared.
“You’re weak.”
Damian looked toward Norah.
Then Julian holding Sophie.
Police storming the room.
“No.”
He smiled.
“I’m finally strong enough not to need you dead.”
Vincent Mercer was arrested at 6:41 a.m.
Sophie returned to Claire.
Julian survived.
The $300 million was recovered.
Peter Lyle was arrested trying to board a flight to Switzerland.
And Norah Whitfield, still wearing the silver dress stained with her own blood, stood beside Damian as dawn broke over Philadelphia.
“You saved my life,” he said.
She shook her head.
“I saved your bourbon.”
“You saved Julian.”
“He helped.”
“You saved Sophie.”
“Technically, Sophie saved herself by dropping.”
Damian stepped closer.
“Norah.”
She stopped joking.
“Yes?”
“I don’t know what to do with what I feel for you.”
Her eyes softened.
“Good.”
“Good?”
“You’re usually terrifying when you know exactly what you want.”
He almost smiled.
“What do you want?”
“Breakfast.”
He stared.
“Breakfast?”
“I’ve been stabbed, danced for forty minutes, uncovered a financial coup, watched your family nearly implode, and helped rescue a teenager.”
She touched her stomach.
“I want pancakes.”
Damian laughed.
A real laugh.
Julian stared from across the room.
“Did Damian just laugh?”
Norah looked pleased.
“Apparently.”
Damian offered his hand.
“Breakfast.”
She took it.
And for the first time in eleven years, Damian Callaway walked away from a battlefield without thinking about who owned the city.
May you like
He was thinking about pancakes.
And the woman beside him.
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