Blood And Vows

The Missing Piece

Richard O’Connell never liked mornings.

He preferred the quiet of the night, when people slept, and men like him could move unseen.

But that morning, the air in his office was thick with unease.

He stood behind his mahogany desk, jaw locked, eyes fixed on the single empty space where a black folder should have been.

“Where is it?” he hissed.

The assistant, trembling near the door, stammered, “S-sir, I checked twice. The safe was locked when I arrived.”

“Then someone unlocked it,” Richard snapped. “Find out who had access last night. Every guard. Every staff member.”

“Yes, Mr. O’Connell.” The assistant fled the room.

Richard exhaled slowly, forcing his temper down. He turned toward the window, the morning light slicing across his face.

He had underestimated them.

Colby’s bail. The girl’s silence. The sudden restlessness around the estate.

He should have known something was coming.

Richard picked up the phone and dialed.

“Keep an eye on Anika Morell,” he said coldly. “And if she’s seen with my nephew again… make sure I know about it.”

In a rented apartment overlooking the city, Anika, Ethan, and Colby sat around a small table cluttered with files, coffee cups, and a laptop that hummed quietly.

The tension in the room was thick, but the focus was absolute.

Anika scrolled through a folder on the flash drive Liam had left behind, her eyes narrowing as she clicked through encrypted documents.

“Look at this,” she said, turning the screen toward them.

A list of financial transfers filled the screen, each marked with coded references, and one recurring tag at the end of every transaction: ‘M-27’.

Ethan leaned closer. “That’s got to be the Morell account Liam mentioned.”

Colby frowned. “Whose name is it under?”

Anika clicked into the metadata and froze.

The name on the digital signature wasn’t her father’s.

Marisol Morell.

Ethan’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Mom.”

Anika sat back, stunned. “She… she was tied to Richard’s transfers?”

Colby rubbed a hand over his face. “If that’s true, then Richard didn’t just have an inside leak. He had a partner.”

Anika’s throat tightened. “But why would she…? She left us. She never cared about the family business.”

“Maybe she had her reasons,” Colby said carefully. “Or maybe Richard gave her one.”

Ethan stood, pacing. “She reappeared a few months before Liam’s death, remember? Dad said she wanted to ‘make peace.’ But what if she came back to cover her tracks?”

Anika shook her head slowly. “This doesn’t make sense. If she’s part of this, then…”

“Then Liam’s investigation might’ve uncovered both of them,” Colby finished quietly. “Richard and Marisol. And that’s why he died.”

Anika’s phone buzzed on the table.

Unknown number.

She hesitated, then answered. “Hello?”

A familiar voice purred through the speaker, soft, distant, and unmistakably calm.

“Anika, darling. It’s been a while.”

Her stomach dropped. “Mother.”

“Don’t sound so tense. I heard about… everything. Such a terrible tragedy.”

Anika’s voice sharpened. “You have some nerve calling me.Where did you even get my number?”

Marisol sighed. “I have connections sweetheart. I imagine you’ve found my name somewhere you shouldn’t have. Don’t jump to conclusions, sweetheart. Business can be… complicated.”

“Complicated?” Anika hissed. “You were helping the man who killed Liam!”

A pause. Then, in that chillingly even tone:

“Be careful what you accuse me of, Anika. You don’t know the full s********e people are far more dangerous than Richard O’Connell.”

The line went dead.

Anika’s hand shook as she lowered the phone.

“She knows,” she whispered. “She knows we’re digging.”

Colby’s expression hardened. “Then we’re running out of time.”

Ethan leaned on the table. “What do we do?”

Anika took a deep breath. “We split up. Ethan, you dig into Mom’s old contacts, see where she’s been since she left. Colby, I’ll need your help tracing Richard’s offshore accounts. There must be a point where their money overlaps. That’s our proof.”

Colby nodded. “Got it. But you stay cautious. If Richard or Marisol realize how much you know…”

“I’m not backing down,” she interrupted. “They took Liam. They framed you. I won’t let them win.”

Colby met her gaze, and for the first time since that terrible night, there was no anger or mistrust between them, just understanding.

“Then,” he said softly, “we fight back.”

Meanwhile at the O’Connell estate.

Richard ended another call, his jaw set.

His contact in the police had confirmed it: Colby had been released on bail.

He poured himself a drink, swirling the amber liquid as he muttered, “So be it.”

If his nephew and that girl wanted to play detective, they’d soon learn the cost of curiosity.

He looked toward the framed photo of Liam on the wall, the family portrait taken a year before the tragedy.

With a faint, cold smile, he whispered,

“You were always too much like your father, boy. And look where that got you.”