Chapter 9 — The Man Behind the Attack
Chapter 9 — The Man Behind the Attack
My grandfather's voice came through the speakers.
I had heard that voice only in old recordings.
Deep.
Measured.
Always calm.
Always certain.
The voice of a man who had controlled our family without ever raising it.
But he had been dead for eleven years.
At least, that was what everyone had told me.
My mother stared at the speaker as though it had become a living thing.
My father lowered his weapon.
Lucas stopped breathing.
Even Eleanor looked afraid.
Only Victor wasn't surprised.
That was the first thing I noticed.
He wasn't shocked.
He was angry.
“You knew,” I whispered.
Victor looked at me.
“No.”
“You knew he was alive.”
“No.”
“You recognized his voice.”
Victor's jaw tightened.
“I recognized the recording.”
I stepped closer.
“That's not what your face said.”
He didn't answer.
The speaker crackled.
Then my grandfather spoke again.
“Margaret.”
My entire body went cold.
“You've spent your whole life asking the wrong questions.”
I looked toward the ceiling.
“Where are you?”
A quiet laugh.
“Closer than you think.”
“Are you alive?”
Silence.
Then:
“Yes.”
My mother collapsed against the wall.
“No…”
My father closed his eyes.
I stared at him.
“You knew.”
He opened them.
“I suspected.”
“Suspected?”
“I saw him once.”
“When?”
“Three years ago.”
My heart pounded.
“Where?”
“The chapel.”
My grandfather's voice interrupted.
“Your father has always been a poor liar.”
I looked at the speaker.
“Why did you fake your death?”
“Because death was the only prison no one questioned.”
“Why?”
“Because I needed to disappear from the Covenant.”
“But you created it.”
“No.”
His voice became colder.
“I inherited it.”
I looked at Eleanor.
She nodded.
“Your grandfather was born into it.”
“Then why did you say Grandma created the rules?”
“She changed them.”
My grandfather laughed softly.
“And nearly destroyed everything.”
The tunnel door suddenly unlocked.
A heavy metallic click echoed through the passage.
Everyone froze.
The speaker went silent.
My father raised his gun.
“Don't move.”
I looked at him.
“I'm going.”
“No.”
“I need answers.”
“You'll get killed.”
“Then come with me.”
He hesitated.
I stared at him.
“You've lied to me enough.”
Finally, he nodded.
“We go together.”
Lucas stepped forward.
“I'm coming.”
My mother grabbed Grace.
“I'm not letting her go alone.”
Eleanor picked up her coat.
“Neither am I.”
Victor laughed.
“Wonderful.”
I looked at him.
“You're staying.”
He smiled.
“You can't keep me here.”
Lucas moved beside him.
“I can.”
Victor's smile disappeared.
For the first time, I saw fear in his eyes.
Good.
We left the archive through the tunnel.
The old passage led beneath the property and emerged behind the chapel.
Snow covered the ground.
The mansion stood in the distance, its windows glowing.
Police sirens sounded far away.
Somewhere in the city, the archive was transmitting.
Thousands of files.
Thousands of secrets.
The Covenant was collapsing.
But nobody seemed to care.
Because everyone was looking toward the chapel.
My grandfather's chapel.
The place where I had been told he was buried.
The doors were open.
A single light burned inside.
My father stopped.
“Don't go in.”
I looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because that's where he wanted you.”
“You're saying this is a trap.”
“Yes.”
“Then why did he tell me to come?”
My father looked at the chapel.
“Because he knows you'll come.”
I stepped forward.
“Then let him know he's right.”
The chapel smelled of dust and old candles.
The pews were empty.
At the front stood a black coffin.
My mother gasped.
“No.”
I walked closer.
“Is that him?”
My father shook his head.
“No.”
“Then whose is it?”
He didn't answer.
I lifted the lid.
Inside was a photograph.
Not a body.
A photograph of me as a child.
I stared.
I was six years old.
Standing beside my grandfather.
Behind us was the same chapel.
And beside him—
my mother.
But she was holding a baby.
Grace.
I looked at the date.
The photograph had been taken eleven years ago.
The year my grandfather supposedly died.
My mother stepped closer.
“I don't remember this.”
“You should.”
She shook her head.
“I don't.”
My father looked at the photograph.
His face changed.
“What?”
He touched the corner.
“That's impossible.”
“Why?”
“Because I took this photograph.”
I looked at him.
“You were there?”
“Yes.”
“Then why don't you remember?”
He stared at the image.
“Because someone altered it.”
“What?”
He pointed at the background.
“Look.”
I leaned closer.
There was another figure behind us.
A man standing in the doorway.
My blood ran cold.
It was my grandfather.
But he wasn't looking at the camera.
He was looking at me.
And in his hand—
was a gun.
A voice came from behind us.
“Now you understand.”
We turned.
A man stood at the chapel entrance.
Gray hair.
Black coat.
Older face.
But unmistakable.
My grandfather.
Richard Reynolds.
Alive.
My mother screamed.
My father raised his gun.
“Don't.”
My grandfather smiled.
“Put it down, son.”
My father didn't move.
“You're dead.”
“I know.”
“You killed yourself.”
“No.”
“You made us believe—”
“I made the world believe.”
I stared at him.
“Why?”
He looked directly at me.
“Because someone had to disappear.”
“Who?”
“Me.”
“Why?”
“Because I discovered who was behind the attacks.”
My heart raced.
“Which attacks?”
“The gala.”
“The bombing.”
“The fire.”
“The people who came after you.”
I swallowed.
“Who?”
He looked toward Victor.
Victor stepped backward.
“No.”
My grandfather smiled.
“Tell her.”
Victor shook his head.
“You're lying.”
My grandfather turned to me.
“The man behind the attacks is not Victor.”
I stared.
“Then who?”
He pointed at someone standing behind me.
My blood froze.
My father.
My grandfather said:
“Your father.”
Silence.
My mother shook her head.
“No.”
Lucas raised his gun.
“You're lying.”
My grandfather looked at him.
“You know better.”
Lucas stared at my father.
“Dad?”
My father didn't answer.
I stepped backward.
“Dad?”
He looked at me.
His face was empty.
Not angry.
Not afraid.
Empty.
“Tell me he's lying.”
My father whispered:
“I wanted to protect you.”
My stomach dropped.
“That isn't an answer.”
“No.”
“Did you order the attacks?”
“I ordered some.”
My mother covered her mouth.
“Richard…”
He looked at her.
“I had to.”
“You attacked your own daughter.”
“I never intended for her to be hurt.”
I laughed.
It came out broken.
“You locked me inside a ballroom.”
“To expose the people watching you.”
“You let that man attack me.”
“To identify who would intervene.”
“You used me.”
“Yes.”
My father looked at me.
“And I would do it again.”
My grandfather smiled.
“That is why he had to die.”
My father raised his gun toward him.
“You don't get to judge me.”
“I raised you.”
“You destroyed us.”
“I tested you.”
“You sacrificed Lucas.”
“I sacrificed one son to save three daughters.”
Lucas's face hardened.
“You never saved me.”
“No.”
My grandfather looked at him.
“You survived.”
“Because someone else saved me.”
“Eleanor.”
Lucas nodded.
My grandfather looked at Eleanor.
“You betrayed me.”
She smiled.
“I saved your grandson.”
“You broke the Covenant.”
“I broke your rules.”
“Same thing.”
“No.”
Eleanor stepped forward.
“Your rules were built on fear.”
“They kept this family alive.”
“They kept this family imprisoned.”
My grandfather laughed.
“Family?”
He looked around.
“Look at them.”
My mother.
My father.
Lucas.
Grace.
Rebecca.
Me.
“Do you think this is a family?”
Nobody answered.
He pointed at me.
“She is the only reason you are still standing.”
I stared at him.
“Why me?”
He stepped closer.
“Because you were born differently.”
“The mark.”
“Yes.”
“What does it mean?”
“You are the last carrier.”
“Carrier of what?”
“The original Reynolds bloodline.”
I frowned.
“What makes it different?”
“The Covenant was built around your bloodline.”
“Why?”
“Because your ancestors controlled the original trust.”
“What trust?”
“The one beneath the city.”
I shook my head.
“That makes no sense.”
He smiled.
“You've been looking at money.”
“What should I have been looking at?”
“Power.”
Victor suddenly fired.
The bullet struck the wall.
Everyone ducked.
My grandfather moved faster than I expected.
He grabbed my arm and pulled me behind the altar.
“Stay down.”
Victor fired again.
My father returned fire.
Lucas tackled Victor.
The chapel erupted.
My mother pulled Grace and Rebecca behind a pew.
Eleanor shouted orders.
Adrian appeared at the entrance with several armed men.
“Down!”
More gunfire.
I crouched beside my grandfather.
“You knew this would happen.”
“Yes.”
“You brought us here.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because the man behind the attacks is still alive.”
“Who?”
He looked toward the back of the chapel.
I followed his gaze.
A man stood there.
Not Victor.
Not my father.
Not Lucas.
Someone I had never suspected.
He stepped into the light.
My blood froze.
It was the man who had attacked me at the gala.
The one who had started everything.
The one I had believed was just another enemy.
He lowered his weapon.
Then looked directly at my grandfather.
“It's over.”
My grandfather smiled.
“No.”
The man looked at me.
“It begins now.”
I stared.
“Who are you?”
He answered:
“Your uncle.”
My mother screamed.
“No.”
The man smiled.
“The brother your father erased.”
My grandfather's expression changed.
For the first time, he looked afraid.
The man stepped closer.
“My name is Samuel Reynolds.”
I stared at him.
Another brother.
Another secret.
Another dead man who wasn't dead.
He looked at my father.
“You told them I died.”
My father whispered:
“You should have.”
Samuel laughed.
“You tried.”
I looked at my grandfather.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
He didn't answer.
Samuel raised his weapon.
“Because he was afraid you'd ask the right question.”
“What question?”
Samuel smiled.
“Who ordered the first attack.”
I swallowed.
“Who?”
He looked directly at my grandfather.
“Your grandfather.”
My heart stopped.
My grandfather closed his eyes.
Samuel continued.
“He ordered the first attack because he wanted to destroy the Covenant.”
I stared.
“But he created it.”
“Yes.”
“And my father?”
“Your father continued it.”
“And you?”
“I tried to stop both of them.”
I looked at the chaos around me.
“You're saying everyone has been fighting everyone?”
Samuel nodded.
“That's what families do when they keep secrets long enough.”
My grandfather stepped forward.
“Samuel.”
“Don't.”
“You don't know what you're doing.”
“I know exactly what I'm doing.”
He pointed toward the floor.
“There is something beneath this chapel.”
My grandfather's face went pale.
Samuel smiled.
“The original trust.”
I looked at the stone floor.
“The real one.”
“Yes.”
“What happens if we open it?”
Samuel looked at me.
“The Covenant ends.”
“And?”
He paused.
“Someone has to die.”
I stared.
“Who?”
Samuel looked at my grandfather.
“The founder.”
My grandfather stepped backward.
Samuel raised his gun.
But before he could fire—
my father stepped between them.
“Not him.”
Everyone froze.
My father turned toward me.
“I'll do it.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
He looked at me.
“Margaret.”
“You don't get to die for me.”
“I've spent my whole life trying to protect you.”
“You've spent your whole life lying to me.”
“I know.”
“Then tell me the truth.”
He lowered his weapon.
“I ordered the first attack.”
My mother began crying.
“I ordered the gala attack.”
I stared.
“I ordered the lockdown.”
Silence.
“I knew the attacker would hurt you.”
My heart broke.
“I knew.”
“You knew?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I needed the Circle to believe you were weak.”
I stared at him.
“You sacrificed me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He looked at the floor.
“Because if they knew you were strong…”
He looked at me.
“…they would have killed you.”
I couldn't speak.
Then he whispered:
“And I couldn't lose another daughter.”
Grace stepped forward.
“Another?”
My father looked at her.
“I already lost Elena.”
I froze.
“Elena?”
He nodded.
“She isn't hiding from us.”
“Then where is she?”
He looked toward the chapel floor.
“She is beneath us.”
My blood went cold.
“What?”
“The original trust wasn't protected by a lock.”
My father pointed toward the stone beneath the altar.
“It was protected by a person.”
A hidden mechanism clicked.
The floor began to move.
Stone slid aside.
A staircase appeared.
And from somewhere beneath the chapel—
I heard Elena's voice.
“Margaret.”
I stepped toward the opening.
Her voice trembled.
“Please.”
Then another voice answered.
A man's voice.
Cold.
Familiar.
The voice that had spoken through the speakers.
The voice of my grandfather.
But my grandfather was standing beside me.
I turned.
My grandfather looked terrified.
“That's not me.”
The voice below laughed.
And said:
“Of course it isn't.”
The staircase lights came on one by one.
At the bottom stood a man wearing my grandfather's face.
Same eyes.
Same voice.
Same scars.
But younger.
Stronger.
Alive.
He looked up at me.
And smiled.
“I've been waiting for you.”
My grandfather whispered:
“No.”
The man below raised his hand.
“Come downstairs, Margaret.”
Then he looked at my grandfather.
“And bring my brother.”
My grandfather's face turned white.
Because suddenly I understood.
There wasn't one Richard Reynolds.
May you like
There were two.
And one of them had been behind the attacks all along.
