His Last Secret

Chapter 2

The safe is hidden behind a painting of Elena.

I try not to look at her face while Julian works the combination. But I can't help it. Her eyes follow me. Dark. Knowing. Like she's already figured out how this story ends.

The lock clicks.

Julian swings the door open and steps back. "After you."

Inside is a green velvet pouch, a thumb drive, and a burner phone. No cash. No jewelry. Nothing you'd expect in a billionaire's safe.

"The phone," I say.

He hands it to me. It's dead. No charge in weeks.

"Have you tried to turn it on?"

"Once. It asked for a password I don't know."

"You didn't c***k it?"

"I didn't want to break it." He shrugs. "I'm good at a lot of things. Technology isn't one of them."

I pull a charging cable from my bag, plug the phone in. It buzzs to life after a minute. The lock screen is blank. No photo. No wallpaper. Just a passcode prompt.

"Birthdays?" I try.

"Tried all of them. Hers. Mine. Our anniversary. Fraternal twin statistics."

I glance at him. "Fraternal twin statistics?"

"June 6th. They were born six minutes apart. 6-6, then 6-6-6."

"Trying that would've bricked the phone."

"It did. I had to restore it from a backup she kept on her laptop."

I stare at him. "You restored your dead wife's phone from a backup on her laptop."

"I'm not a complete i***t. The backup was encrypted. I couldn't access it. But I could use it to restore the phone."

"And then the phone locked again."

"And then the phone locked again." He runs a hand through his hair. It falls back into place perfectly. Annoying. "I told you. I'm not good at this."

I look at the phone. At the passcode screen.

Then I look at the photo of Elena and Marcus again. The handwriting on the back.

If I disappear, look at Marcus.

"What's Marcus's birthday?" I ask.

"October 14th. Same as Elena's."

"That's not how twins work. They share a birthday."

"I know. But I tried it anyway."

"Do they have a shared birthday tradition? A number that means something to both of them?"

Julian goes still. "July 7th."

"What?"

"July 7th. Their grandmother's birthday. Elena always said it was their lucky number. 7-7. She played it in every lottery ticket she ever bought."

I try 7-7-7-7.

The phone unlocks.

We both stare at the screen.

"Holy s**t," Julian whispers.

I scroll through the phone. Messages. Dozens of them. All between Elena and an unsaved contact. The conversation spans six months.

The last message was sent the night she died.

"Read it," Julian says. His voice is raw. "Read it out loud."

I clear my throat.

"'I know what you did. I can't protect you anymore. I'm sorry. But this ends tomorrow. If anything happens to me, tell Julian. Tell him to look at the safe. Tell him to look at you.'"

The contact never replied.

"Who was she talking to?" Julian's hands are shaking. "Who?"

I scroll up. Messages from weeks before. Heated. Desperate.

The earliest message is from seven months ago.

"I found your account," Elena wrote. "The offshore one. The one you thought I'd never find. How could you?"

The reply, three days later: "You were never supposed to know."

I keep scrolling. Names appear. Transactions. Amounts.

And then I see it.

A message from Elena, two weeks before she died:

"I told Julian about the baby. He's thrilled. You'd think after four miscarriages we'd give up. But he's already buying onesies. I'm scared to be happy. I'm scared you'll ruin this too."

I stop reading.

Julian is pale. "She was pregnant."

"You didn't know?"

"She told me she wanted to try again. But we'd been disappointed so many times. I assumed..." He trails off. "She was waiting for the right time to tell me. She wanted to be sure first."

"But she told someone else first."

"The contact." He looks at the phone like it's a bomb. "Who is it?"

I scroll to the top of the conversation. The contact has no name. Just a number. But the area code is local. I recognize it.

"208," I say. "That's a Boise prefix."

"Marcus lives in Boise."

My pulse quickens. "Can you confirm that?"

"I can do better." He pulls out his own phone, dials. Puts it on speaker.

A woman answers. "Blackwood residence."

"Patricia, get me Marcus Webb's office number. The one in Boise."

"Right away, sir."

Thirty seconds later, she reads off a number. Julian writes it down. Compares it to the number on Elena's phone.

They don't match.

"Wrong brother," I say.

"Or it's someone else entirely."

I scroll through the messages again. Looking for a name. A clue. Something.

And then I find it.

One message. Short. Two words. Sent from the contact to Elena, six hours before she died.

"I'm sorry."

And a second message, sent an hour later.

"Don't trust Alex."

Julian's face drains of all color.

I don't know who Alex is. But Julian does. I can see it in the way his hands clench around the phone. The way his jaw tightens.

"Who's Alex?" I ask.

He doesn't answer.

"Julian. Who's Alex?"

He looks at me, and for the first time since I walked into this house, he looks afraid. Not scared of getting caught. Not worried about the investigation. Afraid. Like he's standing on the edge of a cliff and someone just pushed.

"Alex is my brother."

The world tilts.

"Your brother?"

"My younger brother." The words come out flat. Mechanical. "VP of operations for Blackwood Industries. He's been with me since the beginning. He's the only person I trust."

"Except he's the person your wife warned you about."

Julian doesn't answer. He doesn't have to.

I think about the timeline. The access Alex would've had. To the estate. To Elena. To every financial record we've been digging through.

"How close is he?" I ask.

"We share an apartment in the city. He has a key to my house. He knew every password I had before Elena died."

"And after?"

"After, I changed everything. Except the safe."

"Why didn't you change the safe?"

"Because he's the one who installed it."

The air leaves my lungs.

"Alex installed the safe?"

"Five years ago. For Elena's birthday. He said every wealthy woman needs a place to keep her secrets."

I look at the safe. Open. Vulnerable. The thumb drive. The burner phone. Everything Elena wanted hidden.

And Alex knew exactly where to find it.

The phone buzzes in my hand. A text message.

From the unsaved contact.

It's one word.

"Stop."

I look up at Julian.

He looks back at me.

And the house goes silent around us.