CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 13
THE BLACKWOOD NAME
Ethan screamed again.
The sound tore through the underground chamber.
Victor turned toward the stairs.
“Ethan!”
He ran.
Clara followed.
Thomas grabbed Victor's shoulder.
“Wait.”
Victor spun around.
“My son is upstairs.”
Thomas's face was grim.
“If that woman is Mara, then the boy is exactly where she wants him.”
Victor shoved his hand away.
“I don't care what she wants.”
“You should.”
Victor stopped.
Thomas pointed toward the floor.
“Look.”
A thin red light was blinking beneath the door.
Victor stared.
“A laser?”
“No.”
Thomas crouched.
“A trigger.”
Clara's face went pale.
“What kind?”
Thomas looked at Victor.
“Pressure.”
Victor's eyes widened.
“Where is Ethan?”
Thomas whispered:
“Probably above us.”
“And if I run upstairs?”
“The house may come down.”
Silence.
Victor's breathing became shallow.
The screaming stopped.
That was worse.
“Ethan!”
Nothing.
Victor looked at Clara.
“Stay here.”
“No.”
“I need you to watch my mother.”
Clara shook her head.
“She isn't your mother.”
Victor stared at the woman lying on the floor.
“Mara.”
The woman slowly opened her eyes.
“I told you.”
Victor stepped toward her.
“You killed Eleanor.”
Mara smiled faintly.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because she knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That the Blackwood name was never supposed to belong to you.”
Victor stared.
“What does that mean?”
Mara struggled to sit upright.
“The Blackwood name belonged to me.”
Thomas looked away.
Victor noticed.
“You knew.”
Thomas didn't answer.
“You knew who she was.”
“Yes.”
“And you let me believe she was my mother.”
“She was.”
Mara laughed.
“No.”
Her eyes met Victor's.
“Eleanor was the woman who raised you.”
Victor frowned.
“But you said you killed her.”
“I killed the woman everyone called Eleanor.”
“Then who are you?”
Mara whispered:
“The original Eleanor Blackwood.”
Victor went completely still.
Clara covered her mouth.
Thomas closed his eyes.
The truth was finally becoming more monstrous than any lie.
Mara continued.
“My real name was Eleanor Blackwood.”
Victor stared.
“Then who was the woman I called Mom?”
“My sister.”
“Your sister?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did she look exactly like you?”
“Because we were twins.”
Victor shook his head.
“No.”
“She took my identity after I disappeared.”
“Why?”
“To protect you.”
Victor laughed bitterly.
“Everyone keeps saying they protected me.”
Mara looked at him.
“And yet you're still alive.”
“That's not enough.”
“No.”
She nodded.
“It isn't.”
Victor looked toward the ceiling.
“What happened to my real mother?”
Mara's expression changed.
“She died protecting you.”
“And you killed her.”
“Yes.”
“Then you aren't much better.”
“No.”
Mara didn't defend herself.
“I never claimed to be.”
Victor stared at her.
“Why?”
“Because she had the last copy of the Blackwood ledger.”
“What ledger?”
“The one that proves who owns everything.”
Thomas stepped forward.
“The original estate registry.”
Mara nodded.
“Land. Companies. Trusts. Offshore accounts. Everything Augustus stole.”
Victor understood.
“The will.”
“Yes.”
“You want the will because it gives you control.”
“No.”
Mara looked at Ethan's purple elephant lying on the floor.
“I want the will because it gives Ethan protection.”
Victor frowned.
“You kidnapped my son to protect him?”
“I removed him from the people who were going to kill him.”
“You could have told me.”
“You would never have believed me.”
Victor's voice cracked.
“Try me.”
Mara looked at him.
“You trusted Serena.”
Victor went silent.
“You trusted Adrian.”
He looked away.
“You trusted Thomas.”
Thomas lowered his head.
“And you trusted the man who raised you.”
Victor clenched his fists.
“Augustus.”
“Yes.”
Mara's voice became softer.
“Every man in this family learned to survive by lying.”
“And you?”
“I learned to survive by becoming the lie.”
A heavy thud shook the ceiling.
Victor looked up.
“Ethan.”
Mara grabbed his wrist.
“Don't.”
Victor looked at her.
“Let go.”
“You have ninety seconds.”
“For what?”
“The house is rigged.”
Thomas stepped forward.
“How many charges?”
“Enough.”
“Where?”
Mara looked toward the corridor.
“Every entrance.”
Clara's face went pale.
“You're going to kill all of us.”
“No.”
Mara looked at Victor.
“I'm going to destroy the last room.”
Victor understood.
“The evidence.”
“Yes.”
“You want to burn it.”
“I want to bury it.”
“Why?”
“Because if it survives, the Blackwood name survives.”
Victor stared at her.
“And you want it to die.”
Mara nodded.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
She looked toward the ceiling.
“Because every person who has carried that name has been destroyed by it.”
Victor whispered:
“Not Ethan.”
“No.”
“Then let me save him.”
Mara released his wrist.
“Go.”
Victor ran.
The staircase shook beneath his feet.
Smoke was beginning to rise through the cracks.
Clara followed.
Thomas stayed behind with Mara.
Victor reached the upper floor.
“Ethan!”
A small voice answered.
“Daddy!”
Victor followed the sound.
He entered the dining room.
Ethan was sitting beneath the table.
His hands were tied loosely with a strip of cloth.
Victor dropped to his knees.
“I'm here.”
Ethan ran into his arms.
“Daddy!”
Victor held him.
“Are you hurt?”
Ethan shook his head.
“Who brought you here?”
“A lady.”
“What lady?”
“She said her name was Mara.”
Victor looked around.
“Where is she?”
Ethan pointed toward the hallway.
“She went downstairs.”
Victor picked him up.
“Then we're leaving.”
A loud explosion shook the house.
Glass shattered.
Ethan screamed.
Victor covered his head.
Smoke filled the room.
Clara appeared.
“Victor!”
“I'm here.”
“Get him out.”
They ran.
The front hall was burning.
Victor saw the main doors.
They were blocked.
A steel gate had dropped over them.
Clara pulled at it.
“It's locked.”
Victor turned.
“Back entrance.”
“Blocked too.”
Thomas appeared through the smoke.
“Mara stayed behind.”
Victor stared.
“Why?”
“She said the house belongs to her.”
“What about you?”
Thomas coughed.
“I told her she was wrong.”
Victor looked at him.
“What did she say?”
Thomas smiled sadly.
“She said the Blackwood name belongs to the dead.”
Another explosion shook the house.
Thomas pointed toward the basement.
“There's one way out.”
Victor stared.
“Through the underground rooms?”
“Yes.”
Ethan began crying.
Victor held him tighter.
“Let's go.”
The underground chamber was filling with smoke.
Mara was still sitting beside the first-room door.
Victor stopped.
“You're coming with us.”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“You'll die.”
“Yes.”
“Then come.”
“I can't.”
“Why?”
Mara looked at Ethan.
“Because someone has to stay.”
Victor stepped closer.
“Why?”
She reached into her coat.
A small metal key rested in her palm.
She handed it to him.
“Because the last room has another door.”
Victor took it.
“Where does it go?”
“To the original Blackwood vault.”
“What is inside?”
“The real will.”
Victor stared.
“The will I have isn't real?”
“It's a copy.”
“Then why did everyone fight over it?”
“Because they thought it was real.”
Mara smiled.
“That's what I wanted.”
Victor looked at her.
“You created all of this.”
“I created a way for the truth to survive.”
Thomas stared at her.
“You manipulated everyone.”
“Yes.”
“You nearly got Ethan killed.”
Mara's expression hardened.
“I never intended him to die.”
Victor stepped forward.
“You still used my son.”
“Yes.”
“And you expect forgiveness?”
“No.”
“Then what do you want?”
Mara looked at him.
“One thing.”
“What?”
“Change the name.”
Victor frowned.
“What?”
“Don't let Ethan become a Blackwood.”
Victor stared.
“You want him to carry my name.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“I want him to carry his own.”
The ceiling cracked.
Mara looked up.
“We're out of time.”
Victor turned toward the passage.
“Come with us.”
She smiled.
“I already lost one life.”
“You can have another.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because the woman who comes out of this house cannot be Eleanor.”
Victor stared.
“Then who will she be?”
Mara looked at him.
“Someone who died twenty-three years ago.”
She pushed him toward the passage.
“Go.”
Victor hesitated.
Mara shouted:
“Go!”
He ran.
Clara followed.
Thomas came last.
The door slammed behind them.
Then the underground house exploded.
We reached the chapel seconds before the ground collapsed.
Victor fell to his knees.
Ethan cried against his chest.
Clara stood beside him, covered in ash.
Thomas stared at the burning ruins.
“She stayed.”
Victor nodded.
“She knew.”
Thomas looked at him.
“Your mother always did.”
Victor turned.
“She wasn't my mother.”
Thomas shook his head.
“You still don't understand.”
“What?”
“The woman who died wasn't Eleanor.”
Victor stared.
Thomas pointed toward the ruins.
“She was Mara.”
Victor's face tightened.
“Then Eleanor…”
Thomas whispered:
“Still alive.”
Police arrived minutes later.
Firefighters surrounded the chapel.
The underground structure collapsed completely.
No body was recovered.
No sign of Mara.
The first room was gone.
The evidence was gone.
But the truth wasn't.
Because Victor still had the key.
And the key opened the final vault.
Three hours later, we returned to the manor.
The house was silent.
Too silent.
Ethan slept upstairs with Clara beside him.
Victor sat in the study.
Thomas stood by the window.
Neither spoke.
Finally Victor asked:
“Who is Eleanor?”
Thomas answered:
“The woman you thought was dead.”
“Where is she?”
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
Thomas turned.
“I wish I were.”
Victor placed the key on the table.
“You said this opens the vault.”
“Yes.”
“Then let's open it.”
They went downstairs.
Behind the library fireplace was a hidden lock.
Victor inserted the key.
The stone wall moved.
A small room appeared.
Inside was a safe.
Victor opened it.
There was no gold.
No jewelry.
No money.
Only documents.
And one envelope.
His name was written across it.
VICTOR.
He opened it.
The handwriting was Eleanor's.
My son,
If you have found this, then the Blackwood name has finally lost its power over you.
There is one last truth.
You were never the heir.
You were the key.
Victor stopped reading.
Thomas leaned closer.
“What does it say?”
Victor continued.
Augustus believed blood made a person powerful.
He was wrong.
The inheritance was never the money.
It was the evidence.
Every crime committed by this family was recorded.
Every murder.
Every child taken.
Every identity stolen.
Every name erased.
And now you possess it.
Victor looked inside the envelope.
A small flash drive was attached to the letter.
Thomas stared.
“What is that?”
“The truth.”
Victor connected it to the computer.
Hundreds of files appeared.
Photographs.
Bank records.
Videos.
Confessions.
Names.
Dates.
Then one folder caught his attention.
PROJECT BLACKWOOD — FINAL SUBJECT.
Victor opened it.
The first photograph was Ethan.
The second was Victor.
The third was Thomas.
The fourth was Eleanor.
Then came a fifth photograph.
A woman Victor had never seen.
Underneath:
SUBJECT ZERO — MARA BLACKWOOD.
Victor froze.
“She wasn't the beginning.”
Thomas stared.
“No.”
Victor opened the file.
A video started automatically.
Mara appeared on screen.
But she looked younger.
Much younger.
She looked directly into the camera.
“If you're watching this, Victor, then I failed.”
Victor's breathing stopped.
Mara continued:
“You believe Adrian is the mastermind.”
A pause.
“He isn't.”
“You believe Augustus was.”
“He wasn't.”
“You believe I was.”
She smiled sadly.
“I wasn't.”
Victor stared.
“Then who?”
Mara leaned toward the camera.
“The person behind everything has been standing beside you for years.”
The video ended.
Victor slowly turned.
Thomas was standing behind him.
His face was pale.
Victor whispered:
“Dad?”
Thomas didn't answer.
The computer screen flickered.
One final file opened.
A photograph appeared.
Thomas.
Adrian.
Augustus.
Eleanor.
And a fifth person.
Victor recognized him.
Graves.
The butler.
Victor's heart stopped.
Under the photograph was a single sentence:
THE BUTLER WAS THERE FIRST.
Thomas whispered:
“No.”
Victor looked at him.
“What?”
Thomas backed away.
“You don't understand.”
“Then explain.”
Thomas's eyes filled with fear.
“Graves wasn't the butler.”
Victor stared.
“What was he?”
Thomas whispered:
“He was the architect.”
Upstairs, Ethan began crying.
Victor ran.
But before he reached the staircase, the phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered.
A man's voice spoke.
Calm.
Cold.
Familiar.
“Victor.”
He froze.
“Who is this?”
The voice laughed.
“You already know.”
Victor's blood ran cold.
“Graves?”
“No.”
The caller paused.
“Your grandfather.”
Victor stared into the darkness.
“Augustus.”
“Yes.”
“You're dead.”
“No.”
“Where are you?”
A pause.
Then:
“Behind you.”
Victor slowly turned.
No one was there.
The voice whispered:
“Look at the portrait.”
Victor turned toward the old Blackwood portrait hanging above the fireplace.
He stared.
The painting had always shown Augustus standing beside Eleanor.
But now he noticed something he had never seen before.
A small boy stood behind them.
Victor.
And beside him—
another child.
A girl.
Mara.
Victor whispered:
“That isn't Mara.”
The voice laughed.
“No.”
Victor looked closer.
The little girl had Eleanor's face.
And the boy beside her had his own.
The caller whispered:
“That's your sister.”
Victor's eyes widened.
“Mara was never your sister.”
The line went silent.
Then the voice returned.
“She was your daughter.”
Victor dropped the phone.
The room seemed to disappear around him.
Upstairs, Ethan screamed again.
Victor looked toward the staircase.
And suddenly the entire family history rearranged itself in his mind.
Mara.
Eleanor.
Thomas.
Augustus.
Ethan.
Every lie.
Every death.
Every missing child.
Every stolen name.
There was only one question left.
If Mara was his daughter—
May you like
who was Ethan's mother?
And why had everyone spent twenty years pretending she was dead?
