Chapter 4 - The Vale Heir
The countdown reached twenty-nine seconds.
Julian did not move.
His dead father’s voice was coming from inside the locker.
“If you opened this locker, then Elena brought you exactly where I needed you.”
“Julian!” Marcus grabbed his shoulder. “Move!”
Twenty-four seconds.
The security officers hammered against the locked door from outside.
Julian forced himself backward, but his eyes remained fixed on the blinking device.
Thomas Vale’s recorded voice continued calmly.
“And now, Julian, you finally get to learn why I chose her to carry the Vale heir.”
Twenty seconds.
Marcus dragged Julian behind a concrete support column.
“Get down!”
Fifteen.
Julian covered his head.
Ten.
Nine.
Eight.
The pounding on the door stopped.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
A sharp hiss filled the room.
Julian braced for an explosion.
None came.
Instead, white vapor blasted from the locker.
“Don’t breathe it!” Marcus shouted.
They rushed toward the far wall.
The emergency ventilation system activated almost immediately, pulling the vapor upward.
Within seconds, the cloud thinned.
Then the lights returned.
The locker door stood open.
The electronic device displayed a new message.
TRANSFER COMPLETE.
Marcus stared at it.
“It wasn’t a bomb.”
Julian stepped from behind the column.
“No.”
His gaze moved toward the black leather case.
“It was destroying something.”
Marcus opened the case.
The passports remained.
So did the printed documents.
But the digital recorder was dead.
Its indicator light had vanished.
Marcus pressed the power button.
Nothing.
“He wiped it remotely.”
“Not remotely,” Julian said.
Marcus looked at him.
Julian pointed at the countdown device.
“He knew someone would eventually open the locker.”
The security door finally released.
Two guards rushed inside.
“Sir, are you all right?”
Julian ignored them.
He picked up the recorder.
The device had been deliberately destroyed.
But why destroy only the digital evidence while leaving the documents?
Because Thomas wanted Julian to see them.
The thought disturbed him more than if everything had burned.
The medical report.
The succession protocol.
The photographs.
His supposed infertility.
They had not discovered evidence.
They had been given evidence.
Which meant they were being manipulated.
“Bag everything,” Julian ordered.
One security officer nodded.
“No.”
Marcus stepped forward.
Julian looked at him.
Marcus pointed toward the papers.
“We don’t know who in your security team is compromised.”
The two guards exchanged uneasy looks.
Julian understood.
“Everyone out.”
“Sir?”
“Now.”
The guards obeyed.
When the door closed again, Julian turned toward Marcus.
“You’re taking the documents.”
Marcus almost laughed.
“You just read a message telling you not to trust me.”
“Exactly.”
“I don’t understand.”
“If my father wanted me to distrust you, I want to know why.”
Marcus studied him.
“That could be exactly what he expects you to think.”
“Then we’re already playing his game.”
Julian picked up the photograph of Thomas.
“And I intend to change the rules.”
***
At the hospital, Elena woke to darkness.
For several seconds she did not know where she was.
Then she heard the fetal monitor.
Her hand immediately moved to her belly.
The baby shifted beneath her palm.
She exhaled.
Safe.
For now.
A nurse sat near the window.
“Elena?”
“Yes?”
“Where’s Julian?”
The nurse looked confused.
“Mr. Vale?”
“Yes.”
“He stepped out.”
Elena’s heart accelerated.
“How long ago?”
“I’m not sure.”
She reached for the cheap phone.
It was gone.
Then she remembered.
Julian had it.
“Elena, you need to rest.”
“I need my husband.”
The word escaped before she could stop it.
Husband.
Despite everything, he still was.
And that frightened her.
Because seeing Julian again had reopened something she had spent eight months trying to bury.
Hope.
Hope was dangerous.
Hope had almost destroyed her once.
The nurse stood.
“I’ll contact security.”
“No.”
Elena caught her wrist.
The nurse looked down.
Elena immediately released her.
“Sorry.”
“It’s all right.”
“Please don’t tell anyone I asked.”
“Mrs. Vale—”
“Elena.”
The nurse hesitated.
“Elena, you’re safe here.”
Elena almost laughed.
That was what people always said before something happened.
She looked toward the window.
Twenty floors below, Manhattan glittered beneath the night sky.
Then she noticed something on the glass.
A reflection.
Someone stood outside her room.
A man.
Tall.
Gray hair.
Elena stopped breathing.
She turned toward the door.
No one was there.
When she looked back at the window, the reflection was gone.
“Are you okay?” the nurse asked.
Elena’s voice barely worked.
“Lock the door.”
***
Julian returned forty minutes later.
He found two security guards outside Elena’s room and a nurse arguing with them.
“What happened?”
The nurse turned.
“Mr. Vale. She became frightened.”
“Why?”
“She thought someone was outside.”
Julian entered immediately.
Elena was sitting upright.
“You left.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Where?”
He closed the door.
“The hotel.”
Her expression changed.
“You went back?”
“I needed to check something.”
“You shouldn’t have.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s what he wants.”
Julian stopped.
“How do you know?”
Elena looked toward the door.
“He was here.”
Julian crossed the room.
“Who?”
“The man.”
“My father?”
“I saw him.”
“When?”
“A few minutes ago.”
Julian opened the door.
“Security!”
The guards entered.
“Check every camera on this floor. Every elevator. Every stairwell. No one leaves until I see the footage.”
“Yes, sir.”
Elena shook her head.
“You won’t find him.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do.”
“How?”
“Because I tried before.”
Julian closed the door again.
“When?”
“In Boston.”
She looked exhausted suddenly.
“I stayed in a women’s shelter for twelve days. One night I saw him across the street.”
“What happened?”
“I told the staff.”
“And?”
“They checked their cameras.”
Julian waited.
“He wasn’t there.”
“That doesn’t mean—”
“The camera covered the exact place where he was standing.”
Julian fell silent.
Elena continued.
“The next morning, there was an envelope under my pillow.”
A chill crawled through him.
“What was inside?”
“A photograph of me sleeping.”
Julian’s jaw tightened.
“That’s why I kept moving.”
“How many places?”
“Seven.”
“In eight months?”
She nodded.
“And every time?”
“Something happened.”
“What?”
“A message. A photograph. Someone asking questions about me. Once I found my apartment door unlocked.”
“Why didn’t you go to the police?”
“I did.”
Julian blinked.
“You did?”
“In Philadelphia.”
“What happened?”
“The detective took my statement.”
“And?”
“Two hours later, he came back.”
She looked at Julian.
“He told me there was no crime.”
“That’s not unusual if—”
“He knew about the baby.”
Julian stopped.
“I never told him I was pregnant.”
Silence.
Elena’s hand moved protectively over her belly.
“That’s when I understood.”
“Understood what?”
“It wasn’t one man.”
Julian thought of the documents in Locker 317.
The surveillance photographs.
The security footage deleted minutes after Elena had been found.
She was right.
This was infrastructure.
Money.
Access.
People.
A network.
“Why work at my hotel?” he asked.
Elena looked at him.
“You think that was an accident?”
His stomach tightened.
“I thought you were hiding.”
“I was.”
“At a hotel I own?”
“I didn’t apply there.”
Julian stared at her.
“What?”
“The agency assigned me.”
“What agency?”
“BrightStar Hospitality Staffing.”
Julian had never heard of it.
“They called me four months ago. Better pay. Meals included. They said I could work evenings.”
“And they placed you at the Vale Imperial?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you leave?”
“I tried.”
“What happened?”
“The next agency sent me to another Vale property.”
Julian felt cold.
“Which one?”
“The Regent.”
Another hotel owned through a Vale subsidiary.
Elena watched realization spread across his face.
“I wasn’t hiding from you anymore, Julian.”
She swallowed.
“Someone was moving me toward you.”
***
Marcus called ten minutes later.
“I found BrightStar.”
Julian stepped into the hallway.
“Who owns it?”
“That’s complicated.”
“Make it simple.”
“BrightStar is owned by a Delaware holding company. That company is owned by another corporation registered in Luxembourg.”
“And that one?”
“A private trust.”
Julian already knew the answer.
“Vale?”
“No.”
That surprised him.
“What trust?”
“The Laurent Family Trust.”
Julian said nothing.
Marcus continued.
“Camila’s family.”
Julian looked through the glass door at Elena.
“Are you certain?”
“Yes.”
“When did they acquire BrightStar?”
“I’m checking.”
“Check faster.”
“Julian, there’s something else.”
“What?”
“Remember the genetic report from the locker?”
Julian’s expression hardened.
“Yes.”
“I had someone verify the laboratory.”
“And?”
“The laboratory exists.”
Julian felt something unpleasant tighten in his chest.
“But?”
“But the doctor who supposedly signed your report died six months before the test was performed.”
Julian closed his eyes.
Fabricated.
The infertility report had been planted.
“Someone wanted me to doubt Elena.”
“Yes.”
“And the baby.”
“Yes.”
Julian looked through the glass again.
Elena was touching her belly.
A wave of shame passed through him.
For even those few seconds in the basement, he had allowed the doubt to enter.
His father—or whoever was controlling this—had known exactly where to strike.
Trust.
“Find Camila.”
“I’m already trying.”
“What do you mean, trying?”
“She left the hotel.”
“When?”
“Seven minutes after we did.”
“Call her.”
“I have.”
“And?”
“Phone’s off.”
Julian’s expression darkened.
“Find her.”
***
Camila Laurent was not at home.
She was not at her penthouse.
She was not at the Vale Imperial.
Her driver claimed she had dismissed him after the gala.
Her assistant said Camila had canceled all meetings for the next forty-eight hours.
At 2:17 a.m., Marcus found something else.
A flight plan.
Private aircraft.
Destination: Geneva.
Passenger: Camila Laurent.
Departure: 3:00 a.m.
Julian looked at the time.
2:24.
“She’s running.”
“Maybe.”
“Stop the plane.”
“We can’t legally—”
“Marcus.”
“I’ll handle it.”
Julian disconnected.
Behind him, Elena spoke.
“You think Camila did this?”
He turned.
She had heard.
“I don’t know.”
“She hates me.”
“She disliked you.”
“No.”
Elena shook her head.
“She hated me.”
“Why?”
“You really never knew?”
Julian frowned.
“Knew what?”
Elena stared at him.
“Camila was in love with you.”
Julian almost dismissed it.
Then memories surfaced.
Camila’s constant presence.
Her hostility toward Elena disguised as concern.
Her insistence that Elena was unsuitable for Julian’s world.
The merger gala tonight.
Camila’s hand on his jacket.
People had photographed them together for years.
“You’re wrong.”
“Am I?”
“She’s my business partner.”
“She wanted to be your wife.”
Julian said nothing.
Elena looked toward the window.
“Three weeks before I left, she came to see me.”
Julian’s attention sharpened.
“Where?”
“Our apartment.”
“What did she want?”
“To warn me.”
“About what?”
“You.”
Julian’s expression hardened.
“What did she say?”
Elena hesitated.
“She told me your family would never allow me to have your child.”
Julian felt the room tilt.
“She knew?”
“I hadn’t told anyone yet.”
“Then how—”
“I didn’t understand either.”
The monitor continued its steady rhythm.
Julian moved closer.
“What else did she say?”
“That if I ever became pregnant, I should run before the Vale family found out.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because she made me promise.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“I know.”
“Why would you promise Camila anything?”
Elena looked at him for a long moment.
Then she said something he did not expect.
“Because she showed me what happened to your mother.”
Julian’s face emptied.
“My mother?”
Elena immediately seemed to regret speaking.
“What did she show you?”
“Julian…”
“My mother died of cancer.”
Elena said nothing.
“Elena.”
“She showed me medical records.”
“What records?”
“I don’t know whether they were real.”
“What did they say?”
Elena’s eyes filled with uncertainty.
“That your mother wasn’t sick.”
Julian stared at her.
“That’s ridiculous.”
“I thought so too.”
“She had pancreatic cancer.”
“That’s what you were told.”
Anger flashed through him.
“My mother died in a hospital. I was there.”
“I know.”
“I watched her die.”
“I know.”
“Then what exactly are you suggesting?”
“I’m not suggesting anything.”
Elena’s voice softened.
“I’m telling you what Camila showed me.”
Julian turned away.
This was becoming absurd.
His dead father alive.
His mother’s death questioned.
Camila connected to Elena’s employer.
Marcus secretly meeting Thomas.
Every answer produced another impossible question.
His phone vibrated.
Marcus.
Julian answered.
“Tell me you stopped the plane.”
Silence.
“Marcus?”
“The plane never existed.”
“What?”
“The flight plan was fake.”
“Then where is Camila?”
“I don’t know.”
Julian rubbed his forehead.
“Keep looking.”
“Wait.”
Marcus sounded distracted.
“What?”
“I just received something.”
“From whom?”
“No sender.”
Julian’s body tensed.
“What is it?”
“A video file.”
“Don’t open it.”
Too late.
Marcus went silent.
“Marcus?”
Nothing.
“Marcus!”
When he finally answered, his voice had changed.
“You need to see this.”
***
The video arrived on Julian’s phone seconds later.
The timestamp was eleven years old.
The image was grainy.
Hospital security footage.
Julian recognized the corridor immediately.
St. Catherine’s Medical Center.
The hospital where his mother had died.
His hands began to tremble.
A younger Julian appeared briefly in the footage.
Twenty-two years old.
Devastated.
Walking away from his mother’s room.
The timestamp showed 11:43 p.m.
Julian remembered that night.
His father had told him to go home.
Thomas promised he would stay with her.
Julian had kissed his mother goodbye.
She had died before sunrise.
The footage continued.
11:51 p.m.
A man entered the corridor.
Thomas Vale.
Julian stopped breathing.
His father entered his mother’s room.
Twelve minutes passed.
Then Thomas emerged.
He was carrying something.
A small medical case.
Another person entered the frame.
A young woman.
Julian leaned closer to the screen.
She was much younger, but unmistakable.
Camila Laurent.
“What the hell?”
Elena watched from the bed.
The video continued.
Camila handed Thomas an envelope.
Thomas opened it.
Then both of them walked away.
The timestamp jumped.
12:17 a.m.
A nurse ran into Julian’s mother’s room.
Then another.
Then a doctor.
Julian remembered the call.
His mother had gone into cardiac arrest.
She never recovered.
The video ended.
A line of text appeared on the screen.
ASK RICHARD WHAT WAS IN THE ENVELOPE.
Julian’s phone rang immediately.
Unknown number.
He stared at it.
Elena whispered, “Don’t answer.”
Julian answered.
“Who is this?”
Silence.
Then a familiar voice.
His uncle.
“Julian?”
“Richard?”
“Thank God.”
Richard sounded terrified.
“Where are you?”
“Why?”
“Because Camila came to my house.”
Julian’s blood ran cold.
“What does she want?”
“She wants the original medical file.”
“What medical file?”
A crash sounded through the phone.
Richard gasped.
Then Julian heard a woman’s voice in the background.
Camila.
“Give me the phone, Richard.”
“Julian,” Richard whispered urgently, “your mother didn’t die from cancer.”
Another crash.
The connection crackled.
“What happened to her?” Julian shouted.
Richard’s next words came out in a desperate rush.
“Your father killed her.”
Then the line went dead.