Chapter 7 — The Will Nobody Had Seen
Chapter 7 — The Will Nobody Had Seen
The envelope arrived at 6:12 in the morning.
No courier.
No signature.
No warning.
It was simply sitting on the hood of Victor's car.
Victor stared at it through the mansion window.
Harris stood beside him.
“Did anyone see who left it?”
“No.”
“Cameras?”
“Nothing.”
Victor looked at the envelope again.
His name was written across the front.
VICTOR BLACKWOOD
The handwriting made his stomach tighten.
He had seen it before.
On his father's old documents.
On the note inside the vault.
He walked outside.
Harris immediately followed.
“Sir, don't touch it.”
Victor stopped.
“Why?”
“We don't know what's inside.”
Victor looked at him.
“If they wanted me dead, they wouldn't leave my name on the envelope.”
“That doesn't mean it's safe.”
Victor nodded.
“Then we'll be careful.”
Harris put on gloves.
He picked it up.
No wires.
No electronic device.
No unusual smell.
Just paper.
Harris opened it.
Inside was a single document.
He read the first line.
Then his expression changed.
“Sir…”
Victor took it.
The title was printed in faded black ink.
LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF CHARLES BLACKWOOD
Victor's father.
Victor stared.
“This is impossible.”
Harris looked at the date.
“It's dated three years after his death.”
Victor's eyes narrowed.
“Read it.”
Harris handed him the document.
Victor began.
To my son Victor, if you are reading this, the person who gave you this document has decided you are finally ready to know the truth.
Victor stopped.
His hands tightened around the paper.
He continued.
I did not leave you my fortune.
His eyes moved to the next line.
I left you the responsibility of protecting the person who will inherit it.
Victor's breath caught.
“Ethan.”
Harris said nothing.
Victor kept reading.
Your son will be watched. He will be tested. He will be hunted. But the greatest danger will not come from those who hate him. It will come from those who claim to love him.
Victor lowered the page.
Everything that had happened suddenly seemed connected.
Serena.
The surveillance.
The nanny.
The threats.
The hidden accounts.
The strange phone calls.
The Architect.
Victor turned the page.
There was another paragraph.
When the child is born, three people will come for him. One will pretend to love him. One will pretend to protect him. One will claim to be his family. Trust none of them.
Victor's face hardened.
“Three people.”
Harris nodded.
“Serena could be one.”
“Possibly.”
“Who are the others?”
Victor looked at the document.
“We find out.”
At 7:30 a.m., Samuel Crane was sitting in the study.
Victor placed the will in front of him.
Samuel didn't touch it.
He simply stared.
“Where did you get this?”
“It was left on my car.”
Samuel's face went pale.
“Who gave it to you?”
“I don't know.”
Samuel slowly reached for the document.
His fingers trembled.
“This is his handwriting.”
“You've seen it?”
“Yes.”
“Is it authentic?”
Samuel nodded.
“Yes.”
Victor leaned forward.
“Then explain something.”
Samuel looked at him.
“How did my father write a will three years after he died?”
Samuel didn't answer.
Victor's voice hardened.
“Tell me.”
“I can't.”
“You're running out of excuses.”
Samuel closed his eyes.
“Your father didn't die when you were told.”
Victor froze.
“What?”
“He disappeared.”
“You told me he died.”
“I told you what the family believed.”
“No.”
Victor stood.
“You told me he was dead.”
Samuel looked exhausted.
“Because that was the only way to protect you.”
“From whom?”
“The Architect.”
Victor stared at him.
“Who is he?”
Samuel shook his head.
“I don't know.”
“You worked for my father for twenty years.”
“I worked for Charles.”
“And Charles knew.”
“Yes.”
“Then you know something.”
Samuel looked at the will.
“I know that your father believed the Architect was inside the Blackwood family.”
Victor's expression changed.
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because it's true.”
Victor leaned closer.
“Then why are you still alive?”
Samuel looked at him.
That question silenced the room.
Finally, Samuel whispered:
“Because your father trusted me.”
Victor studied him.
“Or because the Architect wants me to trust you.”
Samuel's face tightened.
“You think I'm involved?”
“I think everyone is involved until proven otherwise.”
At 9:10 a.m., Serena received a copy of the will.
She read it in silence.
Then she laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because she understood.
The plan had changed.
She called Adrian.
“He found it.”
“What?”
“The will.”
Adrian stopped breathing.
“How?”
“I don't know.”
“You have to get it.”
“I can't.”
“Then make him give it to you.”
“He doesn't trust me.”
Adrian cursed.
“Then use the child.”
Serena looked toward the window.
“I don't have Ethan.”
“You don't need him.”
“What do you mean?”
Adrian's voice became cold.
“Make Victor believe you know where he is.”
Serena hesitated.
“He'll kill me.”
“Only if he discovers you're lying.”
“And if he does?”
Adrian paused.
“Then make sure he never gets the chance.”
Serena's hand trembled.
“You want me to kill him?”
“No.”
Adrian's voice was calm.
“I want you to make him disappear.”
Victor spent the next three hours reading the will.
It contained no direct explanation of Ethan's inheritance.
Instead, it contained instructions.
Seven pages.
Seven conditions.
The first:
The child must reach his first birthday.
The second:
No legal guardian other than his biological father may control his assets.
The third:
If the father dies before the child reaches eighteen, the estate must be transferred to an independent trust.
The fourth:
The trust must be managed by three individuals chosen before the child's birth.
Victor frowned.
“Who are they?”
The names were blacked out.
The fifth:
The child carries a genetic key.
The sixth:
The vault beneath Blackwood House contains the proof.
And the seventh:
The truth must never be revealed until the child is old enough to understand it.
Victor stared at the final line.
“What truth?”
Harris looked at him.
“We don't know.”
Victor closed the document.
Then he noticed something.
A small symbol in the bottom corner.
A triangle.
Inside it was a letter.
E.
Victor had seen it before.
On the old photograph of Elena.
On the security files.
On the financial records.
He picked up his father's old notebook.
The same symbol appeared on the cover.
Victor flipped through the pages.
Nothing.
Then he noticed a sentence written in the margin.
Three bloodlines. One inheritance. One survivor.
Victor whispered:
“Bloodlines.”
Harris frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Victor looked up.
“I think Ethan isn't the only heir.”
At 1:20 p.m., Lily woke.
Victor was beside her.
She blinked.
“Where am I?”
“Home.”
She looked confused.
“Ethan?”
Victor's expression softened.
“We're still looking.”
Lily began crying.
“I should have protected him.”
“You tried.”
“I failed.”
“No.”
Victor took her hand.
“You saved him before.”
“But not this time.”
“We'll bring him back.”
Lily looked at him.
“You promise?”
Victor nodded.
“I promise.”
She hesitated.
“There is something else.”
“What?”
“When I saw that woman…”
“Elena?”
Lily nodded.
“She wasn't alone.”
Victor's expression changed.
“Who was with her?”
“I don't know.”
“Man or woman?”
“A man.”
“What did he look like?”
Lily closed her eyes.
“I couldn't see his face.”
“Anything else?”
“He had a scar.”
“Where?”
“On his neck.”
Victor froze.
He remembered the photograph from the vault.
The man standing beside his father.
The supposed twin.
There had been a faint scar.
Victor immediately retrieved the photograph.
He placed it in front of Lily.
“Is this him?”
Lily stared.
Then nodded.
“Yes.”
Victor's blood ran cold.
“Alexander.”
That evening, Victor drove to the old Blackwood property.
The estate had been abandoned for fifteen years.
Trees covered the driveway.
The windows were broken.
The house looked dead.
But the security system was active.
Victor knew immediately.
Someone had been there.
He entered.
The old study was untouched.
The fireplace.
The books.
His father's desk.
Everything was exactly as Victor remembered.
Except one thing.
A drawer was open.
Victor pulled it out.
Inside was a second envelope.
This one contained a photograph.
Victor's father.
Elena.
And a baby.
Victor.
On the back:
THE FIRST CHILD FAILED.
Victor stared.
“The first child?”
Harris looked over his shoulder.
“Sir…”
Victor turned the photograph over.
There was another line.
THE SECOND CHILD WILL OPEN THE VAULT.
Victor's heart stopped.
“Second child.”
Harris looked at him.
“Who is the first?”
Victor shook his head.
“I don't know.”
Then he heard footsteps.
Both men turned.
Someone was walking upstairs.
Victor drew his weapon.
“Harris.”
“I heard it.”
They moved silently.
The footsteps stopped.
Victor entered the hallway.
Nothing.
Then a door slammed behind them.
Harris ran toward it.
Victor followed.
They entered an old bedroom.
Empty.
But on the wall was a message.
Written in black ink.
YOU WERE NEVER THE HEIR.
Victor stared.
Then another line appeared beneath it.
ETHAN IS.
At midnight, Victor returned home.
He couldn't sleep.
He sat in his office with the will in front of him.
Something about the document bothered him.
He reread the first paragraph.
The person who gave you this document has decided you are finally ready.
The person.
Not the lawyer.
Not the executor.
The person.
Someone had chosen to give it to him.
Someone who knew exactly when he would need it.
Victor opened the final page.
There was a handwritten signature.
Charles Blackwood.
Underneath it was another signature.
Victor stared.
Elena Blackwood.
His mother.
Both signatures were dated the same day.
Three years after their supposed deaths.
Victor's heart pounded.
“Impossible.”
Then he noticed a third signature.
The ink was almost faded.
But the name was still readable.
Alexander Blackwood.
Victor stared at the three names.
His father.
His mother.
His uncle.
All three had supposedly been dead or missing.
All three had signed the same document.
And all three had signed it after Victor believed they were gone.
Someone had been keeping the Blackwood family alive in secret.
Or someone had been forging their signatures.
Either possibility was terrifying.
At 2:00 a.m., Serena entered Victor's office.
She didn't knock.
Victor was awake.
He looked at her.
“Why are you here?”
She held up her phone.
“I know where Ethan is.”
Victor stood instantly.
“Where?”
“An old Blackwood property.”
“Which one?”
“The northern estate.”
Victor stared.
“How do you know?”
Serena's eyes filled with tears.
“Because they told me.”
“Who?”
She hesitated.
“Alexander.”
Victor studied her face.
“You spoke to him.”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
“What does he want?”
“He wants the will.”
Victor's expression hardened.
“And you?”
“I want Ethan back.”
Victor walked toward her.
“Why should I believe you?”
“Because I'm telling you the truth.”
“You've lied to me for two years.”
“I know.”
“You manipulated me.”
“I know.”
“You helped them.”
She began crying.
“Yes.”
Victor stopped.
The admission surprised him.
“You admit it?”
“I have no reason to lie anymore.”
“Why?”
“Because they're going to kill me.”
Victor stared.
“Who?”
She whispered:
“The Architect.”
Victor's face changed.
“Tell me where Ethan is.”
“I will.”
“When?”
“Come with me.”
Victor shook his head.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I don't trust you.”
She looked devastated.
Then smiled.
A tiny, almost invisible smile.
Victor noticed.
Too late.
The office door slammed shut.
The lights went out.
Victor reached for his weapon.
A voice came from the darkness.
“Good.”
Victor froze.
The voice was the same one from the phone.
“You finally stopped trusting her.”
Victor's heart pounded.
“Where is my son?”
“You're standing in front of the answer.”
Victor turned.
A projector flickered on.
The wall lit up.
A photograph appeared.
Ethan.
Then another.
Ethan with Serena.
Another.
Ethan with Lily.
Another.
Ethan with Victor.
Hundreds of photographs.
All taken secretly.
Victor stared.
The voice continued.
“Your son has been watched since the day he was born.”
Victor whispered:
“Why?”
“Because he is the final heir.”
The projector changed.
A family tree appeared.
Victor.
His father.
Alexander.
Elena.
And beneath them—
Ethan.
At the bottom of the screen appeared one final name.
THE ARCHITECT.
Victor stared.
Then the name slowly changed.
The letters rearranged.
And formed a name Victor recognized.
His own.
VICTOR BLACKWOOD.
Victor's blood ran cold.
The voice whispered:
“Now you understand.”
The projector went dark.
Serena disappeared.
Victor stood alone.
For years, he had believed he was protecting Ethan from the people hunting his family.
But the will had revealed something far more frightening.
The people hunting Ethan weren't trying to steal the Blackwood fortune.
They were trying to protect a secret.
And somehow, Victor himself was part of it.
The question was no longer who wanted Ethan.
It was why Ethan had been chosen.
And why his own father had written a will that seemed to predict every betrayal before it happened.
Outside the office window, a black car slowly disappeared into the darkness.
Inside it sat a woman with gray hair.
She watched the mansion for several seconds.
Then she whispered:
“I'm sorry, Victor.”
Beside her, Ethan slept peacefully.
The woman touched his cheek.
And then she looked at the man sitting in the driver's seat.
“Take us to the old house.”
The man turned.
A scar ran down the side of his neck.
May you like
Alexander Blackwood smiled.
“It's time he learned who his real family is.”
