Chapter 11 — Victoria’s Real Plan
Chapter 11 — Victoria’s Real Plan
I didn't open Richard Hale's confession.
Not immediately.
My finger hovered over the screen while my mother's words echoed in my head.
Richard pulled the trigger.
Daniel stood across the room, watching me.
“Open it.”
I looked at him.
“You knew.”
“I suspected.”
“That's not the same thing.”
“No.”
“Then tell me what you know.”
Daniel glanced toward my mother.
Florence was awake.
She looked exhausted, but there was something different in her expression now.
Fear.
Not for herself.
For me.
“Richard was at the estate that night,” she said.
“I know.”
“He wasn't supposed to be.”
“Why was he there?”
My mother closed her eyes.
“Because your father asked him to come.”
I stared.
“Dad asked his own lawyer to come to the meeting?”
“Yes.”
“Then why did Richard shoot him?”
“He didn't.”
I looked at Daniel.
He said nothing.
My mother continued.
“Richard fired the gun.”
“That's what you said.”
“But he didn't kill Jonathan.”
I froze.
“What?”
“Your father was already dying.”
“From the crash.”
“Yes.”
“Then Richard shot him afterward.”
“Into the air.”
I stared at her.
“That makes no sense.”
“It will.”
She reached for my hand.
“Your father and Richard had planned it.”
“Planned what?”
“Your father's death.”
The room went silent.
I couldn't understand.
“You're telling me Dad planned to die?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To make William believe he had won.”
I shook my head.
“That is insane.”
“It was the only way.”
“Dad could have disappeared.”
“He tried.”
“And?”
“William found him every time.”
I looked at Daniel.
“He had resources.”
“More than that,” Daniel said.
“He had surveillance everywhere.”
“Exactly.”
“So Dad staged his own death.”
“Yes.”
“And Richard fired the shot.”
“Yes.”
“But William believed Richard killed him.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Richard had to become a traitor.”
I stared at the microfilm.
“Then why did Mom say Richard pulled the trigger?”
“Because he did.”
“But he didn't kill him.”
“No.”
My head was spinning.
The night my father died had been a performance.
The crash.
The gunshot.
The evidence.
The funeral.
The grieving family.
All of it.
A lie.
A lie designed to make William believe Jonathan Bennett was dead.
I whispered:
“Is my father alive?”
My mother looked away.
I already knew the answer.
“No.”
Her voice broke.
“He died later.”
“How?”
“Cancer.”
I stopped.
“What?”
“He had been sick for years.”
“And nobody told me?”
“You were a child.”
“Dad knew?”
“Yes.”
“He knew he was dying.”
“Yes.”
“And he still did all of this?”
“He wanted to make sure William couldn't destroy you after he was gone.”
I sat down.
For thirty years, I had believed my father died in a crash.
Now I knew he had survived it.
He had lived long enough to disappear.
Long enough to protect me.
Long enough to build the final trap.
And then he had died quietly, without ever coming home.
I looked at the microfilm.
“Then what's in Richard's confession?”
My mother whispered:
“The truth about Victoria.”
I frowned.
“What does Victoria have to do with Richard?”
“Everything.”
Daniel stepped forward.
“Victoria was never supposed to inherit the Swiss account.”
“I know.”
“She was supposed to inherit something else.”
“What?”
“The network.”
I stared.
“William's network?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because William wanted a successor.”
“And he chose Victoria?”
“Yes.”
“Why her?”
Daniel's expression hardened.
“Because she was easier to control than anyone else.”
I remembered Victoria's behavior.
Her obsession.
Her desperation.
Her hatred of my mother.
Her willingness to destroy anyone standing between her and the estate.
Suddenly, her actions made more sense.
But not enough.
“She knew about the money.”
“Yes.”
“She knew about the trust.”
“Yes.”
“She knew about the Swiss account.”
“No.”
I frowned.
“Then what did she think she was taking?”
“The Bennett estate.”
“Why?”
“Because William told her it was hers.”
I stared.
“He lied.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he needed Victoria to attack Florence.”
“Why would that help him?”
Daniel looked at my mother.
“Because Florence was the only person who could identify the original beneficiary.”
Me.
I felt a chill.
“So Victoria was being used to pressure Mom.”
“Yes.”
“And if Mom died…”
“William would force the trust open through legal proceedings.”
“And discover me.”
“Yes.”
I looked toward the window.
“Then Victoria wasn't trying to steal the estate.”
“She thought she was.”
“She was being manipulated.”
“Yes.”
“But she still tried to force Mom to sign.”
Daniel nodded.
“She chose to do that.”
I didn't defend her.
I couldn't.
Manipulation explained her actions.
It didn't excuse them.
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
“Hello?”
Victoria.
“I know you're with Florence.”
I looked at Daniel.
He immediately reached for his weapon.
“Where are you?”
“Safe.”
“Are you alone?”
“No.”
“Who is with you?”
“You know.”
A pause.
“Daniel.”
“Yes.”
She laughed bitterly.
“Of course.”
“What do you want?”
“I want the truth.”
“You've been lied to your entire life.”
“So have you.”
That stopped me.
“What does that mean?”
“Your father lied about who you were.”
“My mother told me.”
“She told you half the truth.”
I frowned.
“What are you talking about?”
“Meet me.”
“Where?”
“The old estate.”
“No.”
“You're afraid.”
“I'm cautious.”
“Then be cautious.”
She paused.
“Come alone.”
“I won't.”
“Then don't come.”
The call ended.
I stared at the phone.
Daniel shook his head.
“It's a trap.”
“I know.”
“But you're considering going.”
“Yes.”
My mother grabbed my wrist.
“No.”
I looked at her.
“Why?”
“Because Victoria is desperate.”
“So are we.”
“No.”
Her voice trembled.
“You don't understand what she has.”
“What?”
“The final piece.”
“Of what?”
“The night your father died.”
I went anyway.
Not alone.
Daniel followed me from a distance.
The old estate looked exactly as I remembered it.
Except it wasn't the same anymore.
Every room held a secret.
Every wall had witnessed something.
Victoria stood in the garden.
She wasn't wearing the expensive clothes I'd seen in photographs.
She wore a simple black coat.
Her hair was loose.
Her face was pale.
She looked exhausted.
“You came.”
“Yes.”
“Where's Daniel?”
“Not here.”
She smiled.
“You've always been a terrible liar.”
I didn't answer.
She looked toward the house.
“Do you know what happened here?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“You know what your mother told you.”
“Then tell me your version.”
Victoria looked at me.
“My father told me I was special.”
“Daniel?”
“Yes.”
“He said I would inherit everything.”
“Everything?”
“The company. The estate. The trust.”
“Why?”
“Because I was the only person strong enough to carry the family.”
I almost laughed.
“He used you.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because I finally found out what he was protecting me from.”
She reached into her coat.
I tensed.
She pulled out a small photograph.
It was old.
A teenage Victoria.
Standing beside a younger man.
Michael.
I stared.
“You remember him.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“But my body does.”
“What?”
“I don't remember his face.”
She touched the photograph.
“But when I look at it, I feel afraid.”
“Why?”
“Because I remember the gun.”
My heart tightened.
“What gun?”
“The one in Daniel's hand.”
She looked at me.
“Daniel shot Michael.”
I froze.
“You said your father did.”
“I was wrong.”
“Then what happened?”
“Daniel shot him because William ordered him to.”
“And Michael survived.”
“Yes.”
“Where is he now?”
Victoria shook her head.
“I don't know.”
“Then why did you call me?”
“Because Michael contacted me.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
“What did he say?”
“He told me the real beneficiary was alive.”
I stared.
“Me.”
“Yes.”
“What else?”
“He told me William wants you dead.”
I already knew.
“What is your plan?”
Victoria looked away.
“To kill William.”
I went silent.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“You're going to kill him?”
“He destroyed my life.”
“He destroyed mine too.”
“He killed my mother.”
I frowned.
“Your biological mother.”
“Yes.”
“Evelyn.”
Victoria nodded.
“He killed her because she tried to leave.”
I understood.
“You've known.”
“For three days.”
“How?”
“Michael showed me the files.”
“What files?”
“Everything.”
She pulled out a flash drive.
“The network. The accounts. The names.”
I looked at it.
“Why give it to me?”
“Because I can't expose William alone.”
“You want me to help you.”
“Yes.”
“Why should I trust you?”
“You shouldn't.”
Her honesty surprised me.
“You should verify everything.”
I stared at her.
Then she said:
“And then you should help me destroy him.”
A branch cracked behind us.
Victoria reached for a weapon.
Daniel stepped out of the shadows.
“Put it down.”
Victoria raised the gun.
“You lied to me.”
Daniel's face tightened.
“I was trying to protect you.”
“You shot my brother.”
“I was ordered to.”
“You shot him!”
“I didn't know he would survive.”
Victoria's hand shook.
Daniel slowly lowered his weapon.
“Your mother would never forgive me.”
“You don't know anything about my mother.”
“I knew Evelyn.”
Victoria froze.
“How?”
Daniel looked at her.
“She asked me to protect you.”
Victoria's face changed.
“What?”
“She knew William was coming.”
“Why didn't you save her?”
“I tried.”
“You failed.”
“Yes.”
Victoria lowered the gun.
For a moment, she looked like a frightened teenager again.
Then she whispered:
“My mother left me a letter.”
Daniel's face went pale.
“Where?”
Victoria reached into her coat.
“She said I should open it when I finally met my brother.”
I looked at her.
“Michael.”
She nodded.
“But I haven't met him.”
She looked directly at me.
“I think you are the brother she meant.”
My heart stopped.
“No.”
She smiled sadly.
“Your mother told you Michael was your brother.”
“He is.”
“Then why did he send me a photograph of you?”
I froze.
“What photograph?”
Victoria handed me her phone.
On the screen was a picture of me.
Standing outside the hospital.
Taken that morning.
Beneath it was a message.
That's not Michael.
Another message appeared.
That's David.
I stared.
My real name.
Then:
And David is the one they have been trying to kill.
Victoria looked at me.
“Michael is alive.”
I swallowed.
“Where?”
She whispered:
“Inside William's network.”
I looked at the flash drive.
“What does Michael want?”
“Your help.”
“Why?”
“Because he found the original Swiss account.”
My heart stopped.
“Where?”
“Under a different name.”
“Whose?”
Victoria hesitated.
Then:
“Evelyn Cross.”
I stared.
“Your mother?”
“Yes.”
“That means…”
“The money was never meant for me.”
She shook her head.
“It was meant for my mother.”
“And after she died?”
“Your father transferred it.”
“To me.”
“Yes.”
I finally understood.
The Swiss account wasn't simply an inheritance.
It was a protection fund.
Created by my father.
Funded by my grandfather.
Originally intended to protect Evelyn and Victoria.
Then transformed into a weapon against William.
And now it had become the key to exposing the entire network.
Victoria looked at me.
“There's one problem.”
“What?”
“The account has a second beneficiary.”
“Who?”
She handed me another document.
I read the name.
David Elias Bennett.
My name.
But beneath it was another line.
Contingent beneficiary: Victoria Evelyn Cross.
I looked at her.
She stared back.
“So if you die…”
“I inherit everything.”
“And if you don't?”
“You control it.”
I understood.
Victoria had a choice.
She could kill me.
Take the fortune.
Or help me expose William.
She had finally reached the moment where she had to choose who she wanted to become.
A car appeared at the end of the road.
Black.
No license plate.
Victoria looked toward it.
“They found us.”
Daniel stepped forward.
“How many?”
“Four.”
I grabbed the flash drive.
“Run.”
We moved toward the house.
The first bullet struck the stone wall.
Daniel returned fire.
Victoria grabbed my arm.
“This way!”
We ran through the back entrance.
Inside, she led me down a narrow corridor.
“You know this place?”
“My father brought me here.”
“Why?”
“To teach me how to survive.”
She stopped beside a wooden panel.
Pressed three times.
A hidden door opened.
Behind it was a staircase.
We descended.
The walls were covered with photographs.
Hundreds of them.
Politicians.
Bankers.
Judges.
Police officers.
Businessmen.
Every powerful person in the state.
William's network.
Victoria whispered:
“He keeps records on everyone.”
I stared.
“Then this is enough to destroy him.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because the files are encrypted.”
“How do you know?”
“Michael tried.”
“Can we decrypt them?”
Victoria nodded.
“With the Swiss account.”
I looked at her.
“Then the account is the key.”
“Yes.”
“And William knows.”
“Yes.”
“So what's his plan?”
She stopped.
“He's going to force you to open it.”
“How?”
She looked at me.
“By killing Florence.”
My blood ran cold.
“No.”
“He already sent people to the hospital.”
“We moved her.”
“He knows.”
“How?”
Victoria's eyes filled with tears.
“Because I told him.”
I stepped back.
“You?”
“I had no choice.”
“You betrayed us.”
“I was trying to protect my father.”
“Daniel?”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“Then who?”
Victoria whispered:
“William has my mother.”
I stared.
“Evelyn is dead.”
“No.”
My entire body went cold.
“That's impossible.”
“She survived.”
“What?”
“She survived the attack.”
“Where is she?”
Victoria looked at me.
“William has kept her alive for twenty years.”
I couldn't speak.
“Why?”
“To control me.”
I stared at Victoria.
Then I understood her real plan.
She hadn't come to the estate to kill William.
She had come to find her mother.
She wanted to rescue Evelyn.
But she also wanted the Swiss account.
Because without it, she couldn't buy Evelyn's freedom.
Without the evidence, she couldn't expose William.
And without me, she couldn't access either.
Victoria looked at me.
“Help me save my mother.”
I stared at her.
“Then help me save mine.”
She nodded.
“For the first time…”
Her voice broke.
“…we might actually be on the same side.”
A sound echoed from above.
Footsteps.
They had found the hidden entrance.
Daniel raised his weapon.
“Time to go.”
Victoria looked at me.
“There is one more thing.”
“What?”
She reached into her pocket and handed me a folded letter.
It was addressed to her.
From Evelyn.
I opened it.
Only one sentence had been written.
Victoria, if David ever finds you, trust him.
I looked up.
“Why would your mother trust me?”
Victoria's eyes filled with tears.
“Because she knew your father.”
“How?”
“She wasn't just his friend.”
I frowned.
“What was she?”
Victoria whispered:
“She was the woman your father loved before Florence.”
I froze.
And suddenly, the entire family history shifted again.
The trust.
The Swiss account.
Victoria.
Michael.
My mother.
My father.
William.
Evelyn.
Everyone had been connected long before I was born.
And if Evelyn had truly been the woman my father loved—
then there was one final question.
Why had he married Florence?
Victoria looked at me.
“Because Florence wasn't your mother.”
She paused.
“She was protecting the woman who was.”
The footsteps above us grew louder.
Daniel shouted:
“They're here!”
Victoria grabbed my hand.
“Come on.”
We ran deeper into the tunnel.
Behind us, the hidden door burst open.
And for the first time, I realized Victoria's real plan had never been about inheritance.
It was about finding the woman William Hart had spent twenty years convincing the world was dead.
Her mother.
Evelyn Cross.
And if Victoria was telling the truth, the woman who had raised me as her own mother had spent my entire childhood hiding the fact that my real mother was still alive.
Somewhere beneath the city.
May you like
Somewhere inside William Hart's empire.
Waiting.
