This one was standing behind Richard.

He had dark hair, a narrow face, and a scar beneath his left eye.

Julian recognized him too.

Arthur Blackwell.

But Arthur was supposed to be with them.

Julian's phone rang.

Arthur's name appeared.

He answered.

"Where are you?"

Arthur's voice was quiet.

"Julian, listen carefully."

"Where are you?"

"Not where you think."

Julian's eyes narrowed.

"Explain."

Arthur took a breath.

"Richard is alive."

"I can see that."

"And he isn't working with Henry."

Julian stopped walking.

"What?"

Arthur continued.

"Richard and Henry have been enemies for twenty years."

Julian looked toward Marcus.

"Then why is he here?"

"Because Richard wants Charlotte."

Julian's voice became cold.

"Why?"

"Because she is the only person who can identify the original trustee."

Julian stared at the elevator doors.

"Margaret."

"Yes."

"Where is she?"

Arthur hesitated.

Then answered:

"Inside the tower."

Julian froze.

"What?"

"She has been there for three days."

Julian's expression changed.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because she asked me not to."

"Where?"

Arthur's voice dropped.

"Penthouse 801."

Julian looked toward the elevator.

The doors opened.

Inside stood a woman.

She wore a simple cream blouse and dark trousers.

Her silver hair fell to her shoulders.

Her face was pale.

But her eyes were unmistakable.

Margaret Vance.

She looked at Julian.

And whispered:

"My son."

Julian stood motionless.

For seven years, he had believed she was dead.

For seven years, he had visited her grave.

For seven years, he had placed flowers beside a stone bearing her name.

Now she was standing in front of him.

Alive.

He stepped forward.

"Mother?"

Margaret began crying.

"I'm sorry."

Julian looked at her.

"Why?"

She reached for his face.

He stepped back.

"Why did you let me believe you were dead?"

Margaret's hand fell.

"Because I was afraid."

"Of Henry?"

She nodded.

"And Richard?"

Margaret closed her eyes.

"Especially Richard."

Julian stared at her.

Then he asked the question that had haunted him since childhood.

"Did you kill Thomas?"

Margaret's face crumpled.

"Yes."

The elevator doors slowly began closing.

Julian held them open.

"Tell me everything."

Margaret looked past him.

At the security monitors.

At the image of Richard.

Then she whispered:

"Your father isn't the man you think he is."

Julian's expression hardened.

"Which one?"

Margaret looked directly into his eyes.

"Both."

Chapter 19: The Last Mother

Margaret sat in the private conference room.

Julian stood across from her.

Neither had touched the coffee Rachel had brought.

For several minutes, the only sound was the rain striking the windows.

Finally, Margaret spoke.

"Richard wasn't always cruel."

Julian said nothing.

"He was a brilliant businessman. He loved your father like a brother."

"Then why did he raise me?"

"Because Thomas was dead."

Julian looked at her.

"You said you killed him."

Margaret nodded.

"I did."

She folded her hands.

"Twenty-eight years ago, Thomas and Richard built the Meridian Group together. They were young, ambitious, and convinced they could create something that would outlast their families."

"What happened?"

"Henry wanted control. He believed the company should belong to the Cross family alone."

Margaret looked toward the window.

"Thomas refused."

"And Richard?"

"He supported Thomas."

Julian leaned against the table.

"Until?"

"Until Henry threatened to expose a financial arrangement that could destroy Richard's family."

Margaret closed her eyes.

"Richard had a son."

Julian's expression changed.

"What?"

"Before you were born, Richard had a biological son with another woman."

Julian stared.

"Who?"

Margaret hesitated.

"Daniel."

Julian felt his stomach tighten.

"Daniel Cross?"

"Yes."

"But Daniel was Vivienne's brother."

Margaret nodded.

"Richard and Eleanor had a relationship before Thomas married her."

Julian looked away.

The family tree was becoming a labyrinth of betrayal.

"Then why did Richard give me his name?"

"Because he lost his son."

"Daniel was alive."

"Daniel was taken from him. Henry raised him as his own."

Julian stared.

Margaret continued.

"Richard believed you could become the heir he had lost."

Julian laughed bitterly.

"So I was a replacement."

"No."

"Then what was I?"

Margaret stood.

"You were a child."

Her voice trembled.

"A beautiful, innocent child who deserved a family."

Julian looked at her.

"And you?"

She approached him.

"I loved you."

He remained still.

"I loved you from the moment I held you. I didn't care whose blood ran through your veins."

Margaret reached for his hand.

"You were my son."

Julian slowly withdrew it.

"Then why did you disappear?"

Margaret began crying.

"Because Richard discovered the truth."

"What truth?"

"That Thomas had left behind a second archive."

Julian frowned.

"What did it contain?"

"Evidence that Henry had murdered his own brother. Evidence that Richard had helped conceal the crime. Evidence that I had fired the gun."

She looked down.

"I couldn't let you find it."

"Why?"

"Because the archive contained something else."

Julian waited.

Margaret raised her eyes.

"Your biological father had another child."

Julian went still.

"Who?"

Margaret whispered:

"Emma."

Julian stared at her.

"Emma is my daughter."

Margaret shook her head.

"Not only yours."

She took a breath.

"Emma was born before Charlotte."

Julian frowned.

"That's impossible."

"She was adopted."

"By whom?"

Margaret looked toward the door.

"By Henry Cross."

Julian felt his blood turn cold.

The little girl they had been searching for had been raised by the man threatening to destroy them.

Margaret continued.

"Henry took Emma because he believed she carried the original trustee sequence. He raised her under a different identity."

Julian stared.

"Does she know?"

Margaret shook her head.

"She believes Henry is her father."

Julian turned toward the window.

Outside, the rain had become heavier.

He thought of Charlotte.

Of the drawing.

Of the little girl standing apart because she did not know what her sister looked like.

He had promised to find Emma.

He had not known that she might be living with the enemy.

His phone vibrated.

A message appeared.

UNKNOWN NUMBER.

YOU WANT YOUR DAUGHTER?

COME ALONE.

A photograph followed.

Emma.

Standing beside Henry Cross.

She looked approximately seven years old.

And she was wearing the matching silver bracelet.

Chapter 20: The House of Two Daughters

Blackwater Point was located on a narrow stretch of coastline beyond the northern highway.

The estate had been built into the cliffs, its modern glass architecture overlooking a violent stretch of dark ocean.

At night, the building resembled a floating fortress.

Security lights illuminated the surrounding grounds.

Two armed guards stood beside the entrance.

A black helicopter rested on the private landing platform.

Julian watched the estate through a pair of binoculars.

Marcus stood beside him.

"Four guards at the main gate. Two near the garage. We have identified at least six more inside."

Julian lowered the binoculars.

"Any sign of Emma?"

Marcus checked the tablet.

"One child-sized heat signature on the second floor."

"Charlotte?"

"No. Charlotte remains at Apex Tower."

Julian nodded.

"Then it's Emma."

Marcus hesitated.

"Sir, we should wait for additional support."

Julian looked at the building.

"How long?"

"Twenty minutes."

"Henry could move her in ten."

"Then we'll need a different approach."

Julian turned toward Vivienne.

She had insisted on accompanying them.

"Do you know the internal layout?"

Vivienne nodded.

"I visited once when I was a child."

"Entrance?"

"There's a service tunnel beneath the eastern retaining wall."

Marcus looked surprised.

"How do you know?"

"My grandfather used it to move documents."

Julian studied her.

"Can we reach the second floor?"

"Yes. It connects to the old library."

Marcus nodded.

"We'll take that route."

Julian looked toward Vivienne.

"One thing."

She met his eyes.

"If we find Emma, you don't approach her until I say so."

Vivienne frowned.

"She's my niece."

"And she's been raised by Henry. She may not trust us."

Vivienne lowered her gaze.

"Understood."

The team moved toward the tunnel.

Inside the estate, Emma sat at a large wooden desk.

A book lay open before her.

She was drawing a house.

A big house with a garden.

A man stood in front of it.

Henry Cross.

She had always called him Grandpa.

He had told her that her parents had died in an accident.

He had told her that she was special.

That one day she would inherit something important.

And that she must never trust strangers.

The door opened.

Henry entered.

"Still awake?"

Emma nodded.

"Grandpa?"

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"Do I have a sister?"

Henry stopped.

For a moment, the room became completely silent.

Then he smiled.

"Why do you ask?"

"I had a dream."

"What kind of dream?"

"A little girl was holding my hand."

Henry approached.

"Dreams are strange things."

"She looked like me."

Henry placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Perhaps she was only a reflection."

Emma shook her head.

"She said her name was Charlotte."

Henry's smile disappeared.

He looked toward the window.

Then back at the child.

"Where did you hear that name?"

Emma lowered her eyes.

"I don't know."

Henry crouched.

"Listen to me carefully, Emma."

His voice was gentle.

But his eyes were cold.

"There are people who will try to take you away from me."

Emma looked frightened.

"Who?"

"People who don't understand how much I love you."

He touched her cheek.

"Do you trust me?"

Emma nodded.

"Good."

Henry stood.

"Then tomorrow, we'll begin your lessons."

"What lessons?"

"The lessons that will make you the most powerful girl in the world."

He left the room.

Emma looked down at her drawing.

She picked up a pencil.

And beneath the house, she wrote one word.

CHARLOTTE.

At 11:43 p.m., Julian entered the old library.