Chapter 10
Chapter 10
The Secret Society
Rain lashed against the glass walls of the greenhouse as the estate's emergency sirens echoed through the night.
Grace instinctively stepped away from the window.
Dark figures moved with military precision across the Blackwood grounds. They wore identical black raincoats without insignias, communicating only through silent hand signals. Within seconds, the estate's outer security lights went dark.
Someone had deliberately cut the power.
Jonathan Blackwood rushed into the greenhouse, his clothes soaked from the rain.
"They're here," he said, his voice unusually tense.
Eleanor closed the old ledger.
"You knew this day would come."
Jonathan nodded.
"I've been expecting them for years."
Grace looked from one to the other.
"Who are they?"
Jonathan didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he walked to the fireplace and pressed a hidden switch beneath the mantel. A steel shutter slid over the greenhouse entrance with a heavy clang.
Only then did he speak.
"They call themselves the Circle."
No one in the room spoke.
Jonathan placed both hands on the table.
"My grandfather helped create the Circle nearly seventy years ago."
Grace frowned.
"A secret society?"
"They never used that name."
"What did they call themselves?"
"The Custodians."
Eleanor gave a bitter laugh.
"Guardians of power."
Jonathan nodded.
"That's how they introduced themselves to politicians, industrialists, judges, and bankers."
He looked toward the rain-soaked gardens.
"But they weren't protecting the country."
"They were protecting themselves."
Jonathan unlocked the leather briefcase Eleanor had recovered.
Hidden beneath the false bottom was a thin metal box.
Inside lay dozens of old membership cards.
Each carried the same symbol.
A black raven inside a silver circle.
Grace recognized it immediately.
"The key."
Jonathan looked at her.
"You've seen it."
Grace described the drawing from the anonymous letter.
Jonathan's expression darkened.
"Then someone inside the Circle knows you're alive."
"Why would they care about me?"
"Because you found Daniel."
Eleanor spread several faded photographs across the table.
Every image showed powerful men and women attending private dinners over the decades.
Presidents.
Business magnates.
Military officers.
Media owners.
Most had long since died.
Some were still among the country's most influential figures.
At the center of every photograph stood the same elderly man.
Edward Blackwood.
Jonathan's father.
Grace felt a chill.
"He wasn't just wealthy."
Jonathan slowly shook his head.
"He recruited people who valued influence more than morality."
Isabella picked up another photograph.
"This one is newer."
The picture had been taken only fifteen years earlier.
A banquet hall.
Dozens of elegantly dressed guests.
A large banner behind them displayed a Latin phrase.
Veritas Obscura.
Grace read it aloud.
"What does it mean?"
Eleanor answered quietly.
"'Truth belongs in darkness.'"
No one spoke for several seconds.
The motto perfectly explained everything hidden beneath the estate.
Jonathan opened another folder.
Inside were architectural drawings.
Not of the Blackwood Estate.
Of several other properties.
Each blueprint contained underground chambers almost identical to Basement Seven.
Grace stared at the pages.
"There are more?"
Jonathan nodded.
"My father built seven estates."
"Each with hidden facilities."
"For what purpose?"
Jonathan hesitated.
"Originally, they claimed the chambers were emergency shelters."
"And later?"
"They became laboratories."
Grace looked confused.
"Laboratories?"
"For studying loyalty."
The words sounded absurd.
Until Jonathan continued.
"The Circle believed children could be shaped into perfect successors."
"They selected heirs from influential families."
"They controlled their education."
"Their friendships."
"Their beliefs."
"Their future."
Isabella's face turned pale.
"They stole childhood."
Jonathan lowered his eyes.
"Yes."
Grace remembered the names listed in Project Bloodline.
"They weren't prisoners."
Jonathan looked at her.
"They were experiments."
Silence settled over the room.
Eleanor carefully unfolded one final document.
Unlike the others, it wasn't a blueprint or photograph.
It was a handwritten membership oath.
Grace read the first lines aloud.
"We inherit power."
"We preserve power."
"We become power."
At the bottom appeared dozens of signatures.
Among them—
Edward Blackwood.
Several cabinet ministers.
Bank executives.
Judges.
And one signature that made Jonathan's face lose all color.
He whispered only one name.
"Michael."
Grace looked up.
"Who is Michael?"
Jonathan swallowed.
"My younger brother."
"You never mentioned a brother."
"Because everyone believes he died."
Before Jonathan could explain further, a dull explosion shook the mansion.
The lights flickered.
Dust drifted from the ceiling.
A security monitor suddenly activated on the wall.
One by one, camera feeds appeared.
Masked intruders were moving through the mansion.
They ignored jewelry.
They ignored artwork.
They ignored the safes.
They were heading straight for the underground levels.
Grace frowned.
"They're not here to rob you."
Jonathan's voice was barely audible.
"No."
"They've come for Daniel."
Another screen came to life.
A man wearing a black coat stepped into view.
His face remained hidden beneath the hood.
He removed a silver medallion from around his neck.
The raven symbol gleamed under the emergency lights.
Then he spoke directly into the nearest camera.
"Jonathan."
His voice was calm.
"You've protected the boy longer than expected."
He smiled faintly.
"But the Circle always finishes what it begins."
The transmission ended.
Grace turned toward Jonathan.
"Who was that?"
Jonathan closed his eyes.
When he opened them again, there was no hesitation left in his voice.
"My brother."
The room fell silent.
"The man everyone believes died twenty years ago..."
Jonathan looked toward the sealed entrance leading to Basement Seven.
"...is alive."
May you like
"And tonight..."
"He's come home."
