The Billionaire’s Hidden Heir

Ethan Carter had completed ninety-seven missions for Black Veil. He remembered every one of them. Some lasted months. Others ended in less than an hour. He had crossed borders under false names, entered places that officially did not exist, and killed men whose deaths never appeared in the news. Black Veil paid well because Black Veil expected results. Ethan had always delivered. Tonight was supposed to be his last job. He sat in the back of a black SUV, watching the city disappear behind him. The buildings became smaller, the roads darker, until there was nothing outside the window except warehouses and empty industrial lots. His phone vibrated. One message. Warehouse 14. 11:30 PM. Retrieve the package. Deliver it to Point C. No name. No explanation. That was normal. Ethan checked the time. 11:07 PM. Across from him was a small black bag containing a pistol, two magazines, a knife, gloves, and a communications device. He picked up the pistol and checked it. Loaded. He placed it inside his jacket. The driver looked at him through the mirror. "Nervous?" Ethan almost smiled. "You've known me for eight years, Marcus." "Doesn't answer the question." "No." Marcus nodded. "Good." Ethan looked back out the window. For the first time in years, he was thinking about tomorrow. Not another assignment. Not another target. Tomorrow. He had already bought a small house near the coast under another name. Nothing expensive. Two bedrooms, a garage, and a balcony facing the water. There was a cafe nearby that had been for sale for almost a year. He had even considered buying it. He knew nothing about coffee. That was the point. He wanted to learn something normal. Black Veil had taken enough of his life. Sixteen years. He had joined when he was eighteen. At thirty-four, he was finally done. Marcus slowed the SUV. "Still planning to leave?" Ethan looked at him. "You already know the answer." Marcus kept his eyes on the road. "People talk." "Let them." "You know nobody really leaves." Ethan had heard that before. He had also seen what happened to operatives who talked about retirement. Some disappeared. Others died during missions that should have been easy. Officially, Black Veil allowed retirement. There was even a section about it in the contract. Ethan had never met anyone who actually retired. That was why he had spent the last two years preparing quietly. Money moved to different accounts. A new identity. A house bought through a company that could not easily be traced back to him. He had prepared everything in case Black Veil changed its mind. But when he submitted his retirement request three weeks ago, his handler had surprised him. No threats. No arguments. Just one last mission. Then he was free. Ethan looked at Marcus again. "After tonight, I'm gone." Marcus gave a short laugh. "I'll believe it when I see you sitting on a beach getting fat." "That's the plan." "You're terrible at relaxing." "I'll practice." Marcus finally smiled. The SUV stopped. "We're here." Ethan stepped outside. Warehouse 14 stood at the far end of an abandoned shipping compound. Three floors. Broken windows. One entrance facing the road. No visible guards. Too quiet. Ethan closed the door behind him. Marcus lowered the window. "Extraction in twenty minutes." "Make it fifteen." "You expecting trouble?" "I always expect trouble." Ethan walked away. He reached the warehouse without seeing anyone. The lock on the side entrance had already been cut. That bothered him. He drew his pistol before stepping inside. The building was dark. The air smelled like rust, oil, and seawater. He waited until his eyes adjusted. Nothing moved. The package was supposed to be somewhere on the second floor. He took the stairs. Halfway up, he heard something. A shoe scraping against concrete. Ethan stopped. A second later, a man appeared above him with a gun already raised. Ethan moved first. Two shots. The man dropped. Another man came from the hallway. Ethan fired once and the second man fell backward. Ethan continued upstairs. So much for an empty warehouse. He touched the communications device in his ear. "Control." No response. "Control, I've made contact." Still nothing. Ethan frowned. Signal interference was possible, but Black Veil equipment rarely failed. He reached the second floor. A long hallway stretched ahead. Three doors on each side. The mission file had said Room 204. He found it at the end. Locked. He kicked it open. Inside was a metal desk and nothing else. A small silver case sat in the middle. Ethan approached carefully. No wires. No obvious explosives. He opened it. Documents. Several storage drives. A black notebook. He picked up the notebook and opened the first page. Numbers. Company names. Account details. Payments. Most meant nothing to him. One name did. Vale Group. Ethan paused. Everyone knew the Vale family. Shipping. Construction. Energy. Finance. Real estate. Richard Vale had built the company decades ago and turned it into one of the largest private corporations in the country. Ethan flipped through several pages. Another name appeared repeatedly. Victor Vale. He had seen Victor Vale on television. Second son of Richard Vale. Executive director of Vale Group. Often described by business magazines as the likely successor to his father. Ethan closed the notebook. This was not his problem. He had been hired to retrieve it. Nothing more. He placed everything back inside the case. Then he heard footsteps. Several. Coming from both ends of the hallway. Ethan immediately turned off the room's light. The first shot came through the doorway. He moved behind the wall. More shots followed. Concrete broke beside his head. Ethan returned fire. A man screamed. Another tried to enter. Ethan grabbed his arm, pulled him inside, struck him in the throat, then drove him into the wall. The man dropped. Ethan took his rifle. The footsteps outside stopped. "Four left," Ethan whispered. Maybe five. He checked the rifle. Half a magazine. Enough. The next two minutes were fast. One man tried the window. Another came through the hallway. The last two attacked together. Ethan left the room with a cut above his eyebrow and blood on his shirt that did not belong to him. He checked his watch. 11:24 PM. Six minutes ahead of schedule. He picked up the case and headed downstairs. His communications device finally came alive. "Agent Carter." Ethan stopped. It was his handler. Samuel Grant. "Your signal disappeared." "Equipment problem." "Did you get the package?" "Yes." "Proceed to Point C." "I'm already moving." There was a short silence. Then Grant said, "Good work." Something about his voice bothered Ethan. Maybe because Grant never said good work. Ethan walked outside. Marcus and the SUV were gone. He stared at the empty road. "Control, where's my driver?" "Change of plan." Ethan's grip tightened around the rifle. "What change?" "Extraction team is waiting at Point C." Point C was another warehouse two hundred meters away. Ethan looked around. The compound remained silent. "Marcus was supposed to take me there." "Marcus was reassigned." Without telling him? Ethan said nothing. "Agent Carter?" "I'm moving." He removed the communications device from his ear and crushed it beneath his shoe. Then he checked his phone. No signal. He looked at the silver case. The mission had started feeling wrong the moment he entered Warehouse 14. Now it felt worse. Maybe the men inside had not been guarding the package. Maybe they had been waiting for him. Ethan considered leaving. He could disappear immediately. Everything he needed was already prepared. But if Black Veil was planning something, running now would confirm that he knew. Better to see what waited at Point C. He approached slowly. The second warehouse had large doors at the front. One was partly open. Lights were on inside. Ethan entered through the side. No guards. No movement. Then he saw Marcus. He was sitting on a chair near the center of the warehouse. His hands were tied behind him. Blood covered one side of his face. Ethan raised his rifle. "Marcus." Marcus looked up. His eyes widened. "Don't." Too late. Floodlights switched on. Men stepped out from behind the cargo containers. Eight. Then ten. All armed. Black uniforms. No markings. Ethan recognized some of them. Black Veil. His own people. A man walked out from the shadows. Samuel Grant. Ethan's handler. Then someone else stepped forward beside him. Expensive coat. Calm face. A man Ethan had just seen in the documents inside the silver case. Victor Vale. Ethan looked from Grant to Victor, then at Marcus tied to the chair. His last mission had never been about retrieving a package. He had walked straight into a trap.