Chapter 13 - THE SECRET FROM THE PAST
I stood frozen. My hand remained on the doorknob.
Martin.
My oldest friend. The man I trusted with my life. The man I had called for help from the very beginning.
He was Silas’s secret son. My brother.
The voice came again, calm and terrifyingly gentle.
“Vanessa… I know you’re in there. And I know Adrian is with you. Open the door. We have a great deal to discuss.”
Vanessa looked at me, eyes wide with horror. She mouthed: What do we do?
I thought fast.
The apartment was on the third floor. No fire escape. The windows looked down onto a busy street. We couldn’t jump. We couldn’t hide.
And Martin knew everything. He knew our plans. He knew where Sophie was. He knew Elena was recovering at the hospital. He knew every single move we had made from day one.
He had been standing beside me the entire time. Watching. Waiting. Reporting back to Silas.
I leaned close to the door.
“Go away, Martin,” I said. “We know who you are.”
Silence on the other side. Then a soft, humorless laugh.
“Took you long enough, brother. Father said you were slow. He said you let emotions cloud your judgment. He was right.”
The word brother hung in the air. Heavy. Unnatural.
“Why?” I said. “We were friends for twenty years. You were at my wedding. You held Sophie when she was a baby.”
“I was watching,” Martin said. “I was waiting for Father to give the word. He told me to be your shadow. To gain your trust. To take everything from you when the time was right.”
“And now?”
“And now Father has given the order,” Martin said. “Step aside, Adrian. I don’t want to hurt you. But I will do what must be done. Give me Vanessa. Tell me where Sophie is. And I will make your death quick.”
I gripped the doorframe.
“You will never touch Sophie.”
“Then you leave me no choice,” Martin said.
I heard the sound of a weapon being racked.
“Stand back,” I whispered to Vanessa.
I threw the door open.
Martin stood in the hallway. Gun in hand. He looked exactly like the man I had known for twenty years. But his eyes… they were different. Cold. Empty. Exactly like Silas’s.
He raised the gun.
“Step away, Adrian.”
I didn’t step away. I stared into his eyes.
“You can still choose differently. You don’t have to be Silas. You can walk away. We can expose him together. We can build something new.”
Martin hesitated. For just a fraction of a second, something flickered in his eyes. Doubt? Pain? The brother I had never known, trapped beneath Silas’s conditioning?
Then it was gone.
“Father is right,” Martin said. “You are weak. Feelings are weakness. And I do not share power with the weak.”
He raised the gun higher.
I lunged forward.
I slammed into him. We crashed against the hallway wall. The gun went off. The bullet buried itself into the ceiling. We struggled — two brothers, equal in strength, equal in fury.
I wrenched the gun from his hand. I sent it skittering across the floor.
We fell to the floor, grappling. He punched me in the face. I struck him in the ribs. He grabbed my throat. I twisted free.
We rolled over and over. Neither giving an inch.
“You don’t understand!” Martin shouted, breathless. “I have no choice! He owns me! He has owned me since the day I was born!”
“He does NOT own you!” I shouted back. “You are his son! Not his property! You can choose!”
I pinned him to the floor. I held him there, panting.
Martin looked up at me. Tears streamed down his face.
“He told me… if I failed… he would kill the only person I ever loved. He has my daughter, Adrian. My little girl. He took her from me three years ago. And he promised… if I did not bring him Sophie… he would kill her.”
I froze.
Martin had a daughter. A child Silas was holding hostage. Just like he had held Lucas. Just like he had held all of us.
I released my grip on his collar.
“Your daughter… what is her name?”
“Lily,” Martin whispered. “She is five years old. And she is all I have.”
I sat back on my heels. The fight drained out of me.
Silas had done the one thing he always did. He had taken the people we loved. And he had forced us to do his bidding.
I held out my hand.
“Stand up, Martin. We’re not going to fight each other. We’re going to get your daughter back. And we’re going to take Silas down. Together.”
Martin stared at my hand. For a long moment, he didn’t move. Then slowly, trembling, he reached up and took it.
I pulled him to his feet.
“Why are you doing this?” he asked quietly. “I tried to kill you. I betrayed you. I have been lying to you for twenty years.”
“Because we are brothers,” I said. “And blood does not have to mean evil. It just means we have to try harder to be good.”
Martin looked at me. His eyes were red.
May you like
“Silas will kill us both.”
“Then let him try,” I said. “Because now he has two sons fighting against him. And that is a war he cannot win.”
