CHAPTER 7 — THE BROTHER BEHIND THE CURTAIN
CHAPTER 7 — THE BROTHER BEHIND THE CURTAIN
The photograph remained on Ethan's phone.
Two newborn girls.
His mother holding them.
And behind them—
a man Ethan had never seen before.
The message beneath it was worse.
ASK WHO YOUR FATHER IS.
Ethan stared at the screen until the letters blurred.
For forty years, he had known exactly who his father was.
Richard Blackwood.
The man whose name was carved into every Blackwood building.
The man whose portrait hung in every boardroom.
The man Ethan had spent his childhood trying to impress.
The man who had supposedly died fifteen years ago.
The man who had apparently been alive all along.
And now someone was telling him Richard wasn't his biological father.
Ethan looked at Amelia.
She was staring at the photograph.
Her face had gone completely white.
“You know him.”
It wasn't a question.
Amelia didn't answer.
“Amelia.”
She swallowed.
“Yes.”
Ethan's chest tightened.
“Who is he?”
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“I swear I'm not.”
“You said that about Emma.”
“I was terrified.”
“You said that about the fire.”
“I was protecting you.”
“And now?”
Amelia looked at him.
“Now I'm terrified of what you'll discover.”
Ethan stepped closer.
“Then tell me.”
Amelia shook her head.
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Because your brother will kill you.”
Ethan stopped.
“Which brother?”
Amelia looked toward the dark road.
“The one you've never met.”
THE SECOND BROTHER
Ethan drove through the night.
Marcus sat in the passenger seat.
Amelia remained in the back with Eleanor.
Nobody spoke.
The old Blackwood estate was almost three hours away.
It had been abandoned after Richard's supposed death.
But Ethan now knew that meant nothing.
Every dead person in his life seemed to be alive.
Every empty building seemed to hide a laboratory.
Every family photograph seemed to contain someone who had been erased.
Marcus finally broke the silence.
“Sir.”
“What?”
“We found something.”
Ethan kept his eyes on the road.
“What?”
“A file on the old Blackwood server.”
“About whom?”
“Richard.”
Ethan's hands tightened around the steering wheel.
“Open it.”
Marcus hesitated.
“There's a problem.”
“What?”
“It requires your father's biometric authorization.”
Ethan laughed bitterly.
“My father is dead.”
Marcus glanced at him.
“That's the problem.”
A second later, the computer screen lit up.
BIOMETRIC MATCH FOUND.
Ethan's blood went cold.
“What?”
“Someone just accessed the file.”
“Where?”
Marcus stared at the coordinates.
“The old estate.”
Ethan pressed the accelerator.
THE HOUSE THAT REMEMBERED
The estate appeared through the fog just before dawn.
Massive.
Dark.
Silent.
Ethan had not been there since he was seventeen.
He remembered his mother crying on the front steps.
He remembered Richard shouting.
He remembered being sent upstairs.
He remembered a boy's scream.
Then nothing.
Ethan stepped from the car.
The front door was already open.
Marcus raised his weapon.
“Stay behind me.”
“No.”
“Sir—”
“This is my family's house.”
Marcus looked at the darkness beyond the doorway.
“That doesn't mean it's safe.”
Ethan walked inside.
The air smelled of dust.
And something else.
Antiseptic.
Fresh.
Someone had been using the house.
They entered the main hall.
The portraits stared down at them.
Richard.
Margaret.
Ethan.
And then—
another portrait.
A boy.
Approximately twelve years old.
Dark hair.
Sharp eyes.
The Blackwood family crest beneath him.
Ethan stopped.
“Who is that?”
Eleanor whispered:
“Alexander.”
Ethan stared.
He had seen photographs of Alexander as a baby.
Never as a child.
He looked at the portrait.
The boy had Ethan's eyes.
His mother's face.
But there was something darker in his expression.
Something wounded.
Ethan touched the frame.
“Why did I never see this?”
“Because Richard destroyed the originals.”
Ethan looked closer.
A name was written beneath the portrait.
ALEXANDER BLACKWOOD — FIRST SON
Then beneath it, scratched into the wood:
HE WAS NEVER SUPPOSED TO RETURN.
THE HIDDEN CURTAIN
A sound came from the ballroom.
A soft metallic click.
Ethan turned.
The curtains moved.
He walked toward them.
Marcus followed.
Ethan pulled the curtain aside.
Nothing.
Only a wall.
Then he noticed a small switch.
He pressed it.
The wall opened.
Behind it was a narrow corridor.
At the end stood a man.
Ethan stopped.
The man stepped into the light.
Older.
Scarred.
Thin.
But unmistakably familiar.
Alexander.
The brothers stared at each other.
Neither spoke.
For years, Ethan had imagined meeting his brother.
He had imagined anger.
Questions.
Perhaps even forgiveness.
He had never imagined silence.
Alexander finally said:
“You look like him.”
“Like Richard?”
“No.”
Alexander's eyes narrowed.
“Like our real father.”
Ethan's stomach tightened.
“Who?”
Alexander smiled without warmth.
“You still don't know.”
Ethan stepped forward.
“Tell me.”
Alexander shook his head.
“Not yet.”
“Where are my daughters?”
“Safe.”
“Where is Amelia?”
“Safe.”
“Then why bring me here?”
“Because you're finally ready.”
“Ready for what?”
Alexander turned.
“Your family history.”
THE ROOM OF BROKEN NAMES
Alexander led Ethan through the corridor.
The walls were covered with photographs.
Some were torn.
Some burned.
Others had names scratched out.
Ethan saw Margaret.
Richard.
His grandfather.
Alexander.
Himself.
Amelia.
Lily.
Emma.
Then—
another woman.
A young woman Ethan didn't recognize.
He stopped.
“Who is she?”
Alexander didn't answer.
Ethan grabbed his arm.
“Who?”
Alexander looked at the photograph.
“Our grandmother.”
Ethan stared.
“She was alive?”
“Until she wasn't.”
“What happened?”
“Richard killed her.”
Ethan's jaw tightened.
“Why?”
“Because she knew the truth.”
“What truth?”
Alexander opened a metal cabinet.
Inside was a stack of documents.
“Your father wasn't Richard.”
Ethan stared.
“I know what you said.”
“No.”
Alexander handed him a document.
“This is different.”
Ethan opened it.
A DNA analysis.
PATERNAL MATCH: NOT RICHARD BLACKWOOD
His hands began shaking.
“Who?”
Alexander handed him another document.
PATERNAL MATCH: UNKNOWN
Ethan looked up.
“Unknown?”
“Because the man was never recorded.”
“Who was he?”
Alexander looked at him.
“Our mother's first love.”
Ethan's breath caught.
“Who?”
Alexander whispered:
“Daniel Vale.”
Ethan froze.
His attorney.
His trusted adviser.
The man who had stood beside him for years.
“No.”
Alexander nodded.
“Yes.”
THE ATTORNEY'S BLOOD
Ethan's mind raced.
Daniel had known everything.
He had protected the trust.
He had helped expose the board.
He had warned Ethan about Richard.
He had delivered documents.
He had appeared loyal.
But if Daniel was his biological father—
everything changed.
“Why would Daniel hide this?”
“Because Richard forced him to.”
“Why?”
“Because Richard wanted the Blackwood name.”
Alexander explained.
Daniel had been a young lawyer working for the family.
He had fallen in love with Margaret.
She became pregnant.
Richard discovered the affair.
Instead of divorcing Margaret, Richard made a deal.
Daniel would disappear.
Margaret would marry Richard.
The child would be raised as a Blackwood.
Alexander was the first child.
Ethan was the second.
But Richard eventually learned that both boys carried genetic traits that could destroy his plans.
So he erased Alexander.
And raised Ethan as his heir.
Ethan sat down.
“You're saying Daniel is my father.”
“Yes.”
“And he knew?”
“Yes.”
“Does he know I'm his son?”
Alexander looked at him.
“He always knew.”
THE BETRAYAL
Ethan pulled out his phone.
He called Daniel.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Then a message appeared.
Don't trust anyone at the estate.
Ethan stared.
Alexander laughed softly.
“He knows you're here.”
“How?”
“Because he put cameras everywhere.”
Ethan looked up.
“Then he knows we're together.”
“Yes.”
“Why hasn't he come?”
Alexander's expression became serious.
“Because he's afraid.”
“Of Richard?”
“No.”
“Of whom?”
Alexander looked directly at Ethan.
“Me.”
WHAT HAPPENED TO ALEXANDER
Alexander removed his jacket.
Scars covered his back.
Some old.
Some surgical.
Some looked like burns.
Ethan stared.
“What did they do to you?”
Alexander's voice was emotionless.
“Everything.”
“Who?”
“Richard.”
“Why?”
“To understand the disease.”
“You were a child.”
“I was useful.”
Ethan felt sick.
“Did Mother know?”
“She tried to stop them.”
“And Richard?”
“He punished her.”
Alexander looked toward the photograph of Margaret.
“He told her that if she resisted, he would kill you.”
Ethan closed his eyes.
“So she surrendered.”
“Yes.”
“She sacrificed herself.”
“Yes.”
“And you?”
“I escaped.”
“How?”
Alexander smiled faintly.
“A nurse helped me.”
“Eleanor?”
“Yes.”
Ethan looked toward the older woman.
She nodded.
“I thought you were dead.”
“That's what Richard wanted.”
“Why did you come back?”
Alexander looked at Ethan.
“Because of Lily.”
“What about her?”
“She has something I need.”
“What?”
“The part of me that can finally be free.”
THE SECRET IN ALEXANDER'S BLOOD
Alexander led Ethan into another room.
A medical scanner stood in the center.
A computer displayed genetic sequences.
One was labeled:
ALEXANDER
Another:
LILY
Another:
EMMA
Ethan looked at the three profiles.
“What is this?”
“The cure.”
Samuel's voice suddenly came from behind them.
Ethan turned sharply.
The doctor stood in the doorway.
His clothes were stained with blood.
“Samuel?”
Alexander raised a weapon.
“Don't.”
Ethan stepped between them.
“Where have you been?”
“Trying to keep your daughters alive.”
“Where are they?”
Samuel looked at Alexander.
“Ask him.”
Alexander's expression darkened.
“I gave them to the only person Richard couldn't control.”
Ethan's heart stopped.
“Who?”
Alexander didn't answer.
Then a monitor switched on.
Lily appeared.
She was sitting in a room.
Emma sat beside her.
Both girls were unharmed.
Ethan stepped toward the screen.
“Lily!”
She looked up.
“Daddy!”
Ethan nearly collapsed.
“Where are you?”
The girl looked toward someone off-screen.
Then back.
“We're safe.”
“Who is with you?”
Lily smiled.
“Grandma.”
Ethan froze.
“Margaret?”
The camera shifted.
Margaret appeared.
Alive.
Standing beside the girls.
Ethan stared.
“But she's at the hospital.”
The woman on the screen smiled.
“She isn't.”
Ethan's blood ran cold.
He looked toward Eleanor.
Eleanor whispered:
“There are two Margarets.”
THE WOMAN WHO LOOKED LIKE HIS MOTHER
The screen went dark.
Ethan turned to Alexander.
“What did she mean?”
Alexander looked tired.
“You saw your mother tonight.”
“Yes.”
“That was her.”
“Then who was the woman on the screen?”
Alexander's expression became grim.
“Her twin.”
Ethan stared.
“My mother had a twin?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't I know?”
“Because she was the original scientist behind the foundation.”
“What was her name?”
Alexander answered:
“Elizabeth.”
Ethan's mind raced.
Two sisters.
Two brothers.
Two daughters.
Everything in his family seemed to exist in pairs.
But there was one more question.
“Why is everyone obsessed with bloodlines?”
Alexander looked at him.
“Because your great-grandfather discovered something.”
“What?”
“A genetic inheritance.”
Ethan waited.
Alexander whispered:
“Every generation, one child carries the ability to cure the Blackwood disease.”
Ethan frowned.
“And one child carries the disease itself.”
Alexander pointed to the profiles.
“You.”
“Me?”
“You carry the disease.”
Ethan froze.
“That's impossible.”
“You were tested as a child.”
“I've never been sick.”
“Because you're not old enough.”
Ethan's face went pale.
Alexander continued.
“The disease activates after forty.”
Ethan stared at him.
He was forty.
His hand instinctively went to his chest.
“And Lily?”
“She carries the resistance.”
“Emma?”
“The stabilizer.”
“And you?”
“The original mutation.”
Ethan swallowed.
“Then what does that make Richard?”
Alexander's eyes hardened.
“The man who has spent forty years trying to control all three.”
THE CURTAIN OPENS
A loud explosion shook the estate.
Glass shattered.
Marcus shouted:
“DOWN!”
Ethan dropped.
Gunfire erupted outside.
Alexander grabbed him.
“They found us.”
“Who?”
“Richard's men.”
Ethan looked toward the screen.
Lily and Emma were gone.
The camera had cut out.
“Where are my daughters?”
Alexander grabbed his coat.
“There's one place they can't reach.”
“Where?”
Alexander looked at him.
“The original laboratory.”
“Where is it?”
Alexander smiled.
“Under the cemetery.”
THE LAST PHOTOGRAPH
They escaped through an underground tunnel.
As they ran, Ethan's phone vibrated.
One final photograph.
This time it showed Daniel.
Standing beside Richard.
Both men were alive.
Both were smiling.
And between them stood a third man.
Ethan recognized him immediately.
Alexander.
But this Alexander was much younger.
The photograph had been taken twenty years earlier.
Beneath it were four words:
YOUR BROTHER NEVER ESCAPED.
Ethan stopped.
He looked at the real Alexander running beside him.
Then at the photograph.
“Alexander.”
His brother turned.
“What?”
Ethan held up the phone.
“You said you escaped.”
“I did.”
“Then who is this?”
Alexander looked at the photograph.
For the first time since Ethan had met him, genuine fear appeared in his eyes.
“That…”
He stopped.
Ethan waited.
Alexander whispered:
“That's not me.”
A gunshot echoed through the tunnel.
Alexander grabbed Ethan and pushed him against the wall.
“Run.”
“Why?”
“Because now I know who took Lily.”
“Who?”
Alexander looked toward the darkness behind them.
“The brother who died.”
Ethan's heart stopped.
“That's impossible.”
Alexander shook his head.
“No.”
He stared into the darkness.
“We were never two brothers.”
May you like
A pause.
“We were three.”
