CHAPTER 7 — THE MAN BEHIND VICTOR
CHAPTER 7 — THE MAN BEHIND VICTOR
For several seconds, I forgot how to breathe.
The church was silent.
No traffic outside.
No wind against the stained-glass windows.
Nothing except the faint ticking of an old clock near the altar.
Daniel Hartwell stood beneath a single yellow light, looking at me as though he had been carrying the weight of my mother's secret for twenty-three years.
My father was the first to speak.
"Say that again."
Daniel didn't look at him.
He looked at me.
"Your mother is alive."
The words should have sounded impossible.
Instead, they sounded like the final piece of a nightmare I had been living without understanding.
I shook my head.
"No."
Daniel stepped closer.
"Olivia—"
"No."
I backed away.
"My mother died."
"I know what the records say."
"I saw her."
"I know."
"I was at her funeral."
"I know."
My voice cracked.
"Then how can you stand there and tell me she's alive?"
Daniel's expression broke.
"Because I was there when she disappeared."
My father went completely still.
"You told me she died."
Daniel finally looked at him.
"I told you what Adrian wanted you to believe."
Arthur's face hardened.
"You let me bury an empty coffin?"
Daniel closed his eyes.
"I had no choice."
"You always had a choice."
Arthur's voice shook with anger.
"You let me believe my wife was dead."
"I let you believe it because the alternative was your daughter dying too."
Silence.
I looked between them.
"What does that mean?"
Daniel turned toward me.
"Your mother wasn't killed."
"She was taken."
"By Adrian?"
Daniel shook his head.
"No."
"Then who?"
He hesitated.
"Someone you already know."
My heart began pounding.
"Victor?"
"No."
"Kendra?"
"No."
"Who?"
Daniel looked at my father.
Arthur's face had gone pale.
"Tell her."
Daniel whispered:
"Charles Whitmore."
I stared at him.
"The board member?"
Daniel nodded.
"He's been working for Blackridge for more than twenty years."
My father shook his head.
"Impossible."
"Arthur—"
"Charles was with us when Sarah died."
"Exactly."
Daniel's voice was bitter.
"He made sure you never looked in his direction."
I remembered the boardroom.
Charles standing across from my father.
His calm expression.
His sudden accusation.
His knowledge of confidential information.
He hadn't looked afraid when the audit began.
He had looked prepared.
Because he knew.
"Why would Charles take Mom?" I asked.
Daniel looked at me.
"Because your mother discovered the truth."
"What truth?"
"That Blackridge wasn't trying to destroy Hartwell."
"They were trying to control it."
"She found the original acquisition plan."
"What plan?"
"The one we're fighting now."
Daniel pointed toward the floor.
"Your mother discovered that Adrian intended to control Hartwell by manipulating its debt."
My father said nothing.
Daniel continued.
"She also discovered someone inside Hartwell was helping him."
"Charles."
"Yes."
"And Daniel?"
He looked at my father.
"I tried to warn Arthur."
Arthur's jaw tightened.
"You accused me."
"I begged you to listen."
"You told me Adrian had infiltrated the company."
"Because he had."
"You said Charles was involved."
"I had evidence."
"Where was it?"
Daniel's voice lowered.
"With Sarah."
I looked at him.
"My mother had the evidence?"
"Yes."
"Where is it now?"
Daniel stared at me.
"That's why she's still alive."
I felt dizzy.
"Where is she?"
"I don't know."
"You just said she's alive."
"She is."
"Then where?"
Daniel looked toward the dark windows.
"She's been moved many times."
"By whom?"
"Charles."
"Why would he keep her alive?"
"Because she knows something he needs."
"What?"
Daniel hesitated.
"Where the Hartwell Family Trust's original control documents are hidden."
I frowned.
"I thought the trust was just money."
"It isn't."
"What is it?"
Daniel looked at my father.
Arthur finally spoke.
"Control."
I stared at him.
"Control over what?"
"Hartwell Group."
My father's voice was quiet.
"Your mother created a trust that could override the board if the company were ever threatened by hostile acquisition."
I understood.
"The trust can stop Blackridge."
"Yes."
"And Mom is the only person who knows where the original documents are."
"Yes."
I whispered:
"So that's why they kept her alive."
Daniel nodded.
"And that's why they needed you."
Everything suddenly made sense.
Victor's marriage.
The divorce.
The forged documents.
The financial fraud.
The fake transfer agreement.
The attempt to isolate me.
They hadn't wanted my inheritance.
They wanted access to the trust.
And because I was my mother's daughter, they assumed I would eventually inherit control.
I looked at Daniel.
"Why Victor?"
"Because he was perfect."
"For what?"
"Manipulation."
Daniel's expression hardened.
"Victor was ambitious, insecure, and desperate to be respected."
"He wanted money."
"He wanted status."
"He wanted to be important."
"So Blackridge gave him everything."
"Promotions."
"Connections."
"Money."
"Women."
"Access."
"And in return?"
"Information."
I remembered every night Victor had come home late.
Every time he had asked careless questions about my father.
Every time he had tried to convince me to sign something.
Every time he had complained that Hartwell Group treated him unfairly.
He had never loved me.
Not really.
He had loved what he believed I could give him.
"How much did Victor know?"
Daniel answered:
"Less than he thought."
"Then why did he participate?"
"Because people like Victor don't need to understand the whole plan."
"They only need to believe the next step benefits them."
I swallowed.
"What was his final assignment?"
Daniel looked at me.
"Get you to sign the divorce settlement."
I nodded.
"And if I refused?"
"Then he was supposed to destroy your reputation."
"How?"
"By making everyone believe you were unstable."
My stomach turned.
"The rumors."
"Yes."
"The stories about me."
"Yes."
"He told people I was obsessed."
"Yes."
"He told his mother I was mentally unstable."
"Yes."
"Who gave him that story?"
Daniel's eyes hardened.
"Charles."
My father suddenly sat down.
For the first time since I had known him, Arthur Hartwell looked old.
Not powerful.
Not untouchable.
Just tired.
"I should have seen it."
Daniel looked at him.
"You couldn't."
"I trusted him."
"We all did."
"I should have protected Sarah."
Daniel's voice softened.
"You tried."
"No."
Arthur shook his head.
"I failed."
I walked toward him.
"Dad."
He looked at me.
"I blamed you for leaving."
His eyes filled with something I had never seen before.
Regret.
"I thought you chose your pride over me."
"I chose distance because I thought it would keep you alive."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because every person who knew the truth became a target."
I stared at him.
"Daniel."
"Your mother."
"Who else?"
Daniel answered:
"Everyone who helped us."
Then a sound came from outside.
A car door.
Daniel turned instantly.
"Someone followed us."
Arthur stood.
"How many?"
"At least two."
Russell wasn't with us.
Neither were security officers.
We had followed Daniel's instructions.
No protection.
No backup.
For the first time, I understood why.
Because Daniel wasn't paranoid.
He was terrified.
The church lights suddenly went out.
I heard glass shatter.
Arthur grabbed my arm.
"Down."
A gunshot struck the wooden door.
Daniel pushed us behind the altar.
Another shot.
Then another.
My heart pounded.
Someone shouted outside:
"Daniel!"
Daniel froze.
The voice was familiar.
He whispered:
"Charles."
A second later, the doors exploded inward.
Three armed men entered.
Charles Whitmore stood behind them.
He wasn't frightened.
He wasn't angry.
He looked almost disappointed.
"Daniel."
Daniel stood slowly.
"Charles."
"You should have stayed dead."
My father stepped forward.
"You."
Charles smiled.
"Arthur."
"You took my wife."
"I saved your company."
"You kidnapped Sarah."
"Your wife was going to destroy everything."
I stared at him.
"You've been doing this for twenty-three years."
Charles looked at me.
"Your mother was brilliant."
"She discovered everything."
"She would have exposed Adrian."
"And then?"
"Blackridge would have collapsed."
"That was the point."
Charles shook his head.
"You don't understand power, Olivia."
"I understand enough."
"No."
He smiled.
"You understand money."
"Power is different."
Daniel moved toward him.
"Where is Sarah?"
Charles laughed.
"You still care."
"Where is she?"
"Safe."
"Where?"
"Somewhere you will never find."
My father stepped forward.
"If you hurt her—"
Charles interrupted.
"I didn't."
"Then who did?"
Charles looked at me.
"Victor."
I froze.
"What?"
"Victor knew where she was."
"No."
"He didn't know her identity."
"But he knew the location."
"You're lying."
Charles smiled.
"Ask him."
"He is under arrest."
"Then visit him."
Charles turned toward the door.
"Ask him what he was paid to deliver."
Daniel shouted:
"Don't let him leave!"
The armed men raised their weapons.
Charles walked backward.
"One more thing."
He looked directly at me.
"The plan was never to destroy Hartwell."
I stared.
"What was it?"
He smiled.
"To make Olivia Hartwell voluntarily give it away."
Then he disappeared into the darkness.
The police arrived fifteen minutes later.
But Charles was gone.
Again.
By the time they secured the church, there was no trace of him.
Daniel sat on the floor beside the altar.
Blood covered his sleeve.
He had been grazed by a bullet.
I knelt beside him.
"Are you okay?"
He nodded.
"I've survived worse."
"Where is my mother?"
"I don't know."
"But Charles said Victor knows."
Daniel looked at me.
"Then you need to talk to Victor."
We returned to Chicago before dawn.
Victor was being held in a federal detention facility.
My father wanted to send an attorney.
I refused.
"I'll speak to him myself."
"Absolutely not."
"Why?"
"Because Victor is dangerous."
"He's already lost everything."
"That's when people become most dangerous."
I looked at my father.
"He knows something."
Arthur was silent.
Then he nodded.
"Fine."
"But I'm coming with you."
I shook my head.
"No."
"Olivia."
"If Victor is still connected to Charles, he'll shut down the moment he sees you."
Arthur considered that.
"Then Russell stays nearby."
"Fine."
Victor looked different when I saw him.
The expensive suit was gone.
The perfect hair was messy.
His face was pale.
He sat behind a glass partition.
For several seconds, he couldn't look at me.
Then he whispered:
"Olivia."
I sat down.
"Where is my mother?"
His face changed.
"You know?"
"Everything."
He closed his eyes.
"They said you would never find out."
"Who?"
"Charles."
"What did he tell you?"
Victor swallowed.
"That your father was dangerous."
"That Daniel was a traitor."
"That your mother died."
"And that you were the only person who could save yourself."
I stared at him.
"You believed him."
"I wanted to."
"Why?"
"Because I wanted your life."
I said nothing.
Victor looked at me.
"I hated you."
"Why?"
"Because you had everything."
"I thought I had nothing."
"You had Arthur."
"You had Hartwell."
"You had people who would die for you."
He laughed bitterly.
"I had nobody."
"You had me."
Victor looked away.
"No."
"Not really."
I leaned forward.
"Where is my mother?"
He closed his eyes.
"I don't know."
"You're lying."
"I swear."
"Then tell me what you do know."
He hesitated.
"Three months ago, Charles gave me a package."
"What was inside?"
"An address."
"Whose address?"
"Your mother's."
My heart stopped.
"Where?"
"I never went."
"Why?"
"Because I was afraid."
"Of Charles?"
"Of the man who was keeping her."
"What man?"
Victor looked at me.
"I never saw his face."
"Then how do you know?"
"Because Charles told me."
"What did he call him?"
Victor whispered:
"The Keeper."
The word chilled me.
"The Keeper."
"Yes."
"Where is he?"
"I don't know."
"What was I supposed to do with the address?"
"Give it to you."
"Why?"
Victor stared at me.
"Because once you found your mother, you would sign the trust documents."
I understood.
"They wanted me to rescue her."
"Yes."
"And in exchange?"
"You would give up control of Hartwell."
I stared at him.
"They planned everything."
Victor nodded.
"Everything."
I stood.
"One last question."
He looked up.
"Did you ever love me?"
Victor's eyes filled with tears.
"I don't know."
That was the only honest thing he had ever said to me.
I walked away.
Outside the detention center, my father waited.
He didn't ask what Victor said.
He simply looked at my face.
"You found something."
I nodded.
"The plan was to make me rescue Mom."
"And then force you to surrender the trust."
"Yes."
Arthur's expression hardened.
"Did he give you the location?"
I held up a piece of paper.
An address.
My father's eyes widened.
"Where is this?"
"Indiana."
He stared at it.
"That's impossible."
"Why?"
Arthur looked at me.
"Because that property belongs to Daniel."
I looked at him.
"Daniel?"
"Yes."
"Then my mother has been hidden on my uncle's property."
"Apparently."
My phone vibrated.
A message.
Unknown number.
I opened it.
A photograph appeared.
My mother.
Older.
Paler.
But alive.
She was sitting beside a window.
Her eyes were turned toward the camera.
Below the photograph:
SHE KNOWS YOU'RE COMING.
Then another message appeared.
BUT DANIEL DOESN'T KNOW WHO I AM.
I stared at the words.
My blood ran cold.
Because there was one detail in the photograph that none of us had noticed.
On the table beside my mother was a newspaper.
Today's date.
And beside the newspaper—
a wedding ring.
A man's hand rested over it.
The message arrived.
THE MAN BEHIND VICTOR IS NOT CHARLES.
Then:
YOU HAVE FIVE HOURS TO FIND THE REAL ONE.
I looked at my father.
He saw the screen.
His face went pale.
"Olivia."
"What?"
He whispered:
"Charles is only the middleman."
"Then who is the man behind him?"
Arthur stared at the photograph.
And for the first time, I saw genuine fear in my father's eyes.
"I think..."
He stopped.
"Tell me."
May you like
He looked at me.
"I think we've been searching for the wrong enemy for twenty-three years."
