His Last Secret

Chapter 14

We break into the estate through the old drainage culvert. Mud sucks at my shoes. Thick. Wet. It pulls at every step like it doesn't want us to leave. The air smells like rust and rot. Standing water. Decaying leaves. Something that died a long time ago and was never found.

I slip. Julian's hand catches my arm before I go down.

"Careful," he whispers.

"Thanks."

We move forward. The culvert opens into a maintenance tunnel. Cobwebs brush against my face. I wipe them away but I can still feel them. Tiny legs. Sticky threads. I hate this.

Julian leads. He knows every inch of this land. Every path. Every hidden entrance. Every weakness in the walls. He grew up here. This estate is in his bones.

The alarm system is old. His father never updated it. A bypass code from Mrs. Chen gets us through the kitchen entrance. She's the housekeeper. Has been for thirty years. She hates Arthur almost as much as we do.

"Mrs. Chen risked everything giving us this code," I say.

"She knows what Arthur is."

"Does she know about Elena?"

"Everyone knows about Elena." Julian's voice is flat. "They just didn't say anything."

"Because they were scared."

"Because they wanted to live."

We move through dark hallways. The estate feels different at night. Bigger. Hungrier. The shadows stretch longer than they should. Every creak of the floorboards sounds like a gunshot. I hold my breath at every corner.

"The study," Julian whispers. "My father's safe."

"How do you know the combination still works?"

"Because Arthur is lazy. He never changes anything. He thinks he's untouchable."

"Let's hope you're right."

We reach the study door. Julian tries the handle. It's unlocked. He looks at me. I nod.

We slip inside.

The study is exactly how I remember it. Dark wood paneling. Bookshelves full of leather-bound volumes that nobody's read. A massive desk in the center. And above the fireplace, the painting.

The safe is behind a painting. A Caravaggio. The boy with fruit. I don't know much about art but I know this one is worth more than I'll make in a lifetime. Julian spins the dial. His hands remember the combination from childhood. Left. Right. Left. His fingers move without hesitation.

The door clicks open.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

Inside, a laptop. Silver casing. Old model. Scratched at the edges. A sticker on the lid — a small sunflower. Elena's.

Julian pulls it out carefully. Like it's made of glass. "This is it."

"Boot it up."

"We don't have time."

"We'll make time." I look at the door. "Arthur knows something's wrong. Mrs. Chen can only cover for us so long."

He opens the laptop on the desk. The screen glows blue in the dark room. Password prompt. A simple white box.

"Elena's birthday?"

"No. She changed it after the threats started."

"Try Lily's birthday."

He types it in. His fingers are shaking. Access granted.

The desktop loads. A single folder. Labeled: THEM.

Inside, documents. Photos. Recordings. A map with pins. Red pins. Green pins. Black pins. Each one a person. Each one a target or a victim. I can't tell which is which.

"He was tracking everyone," Julian says. His voice is hollow. "His father. Marcus. Morrison. Alex."

"Not was." I scroll through the files. "He is tracking everyone. This isn't historical. These are active files."

I stop at a file marked: ORDERED THE HITS.

My finger hovers over the trackpad.

"Open it," Julian says.

I do.

A name.

I read it once. Twice. My stomach drops. It feels like I'm falling. Like the floor just disappeared under me.

"No," I whisper.

"What?"

"This can't be right." I shake my head. "She was wrong. She had to be wrong."

Julian reads over my shoulder. His face drains of color. Every drop. He looks like a ghost. "That's impossible."

But the evidence is there. Bank records. Transfers from an offshore account. Phone logs. Calls placed in the middle of the night. Meeting dates. Timestamps. Photographs.

The person who ordered Elena's death. Margaret's death. Sarah's death.

The person who's been playing us from the start.

"It's a frame," Julian says. "Elena was wrong."

"Elena was dying when she made this file. She had nothing to lose."

"She could have been mistaken."

"She was a forensic accountant." I hear my own voice. Distant. Cold. "She didn't make mistakes. That was her whole life. Finding the thing everyone else missed."

Julian steps back. Runs his hands through his hair. Pulls at it. "Ten years. Ten years I trusted this person. I ate dinner with them. I laughed at their jokes. I—"

"So did Elena."

"Until she found the truth."

"And it got her killed."

"Stop." His voice breaks. "Just stop."

I close my eyes. I can feel the weight of the laptop in my hands. The weight of everything Elena left behind. All the pieces she collected. All the secrets. All the lies.

"Why would they do it?" Julian asks. "Why?"

"Because they wanted what Arthur had. The money. The power. The access."

"They already had access."

"Not enough." I open my eyes. "Not the real access. Arthur kept them at arm's length. He always did. And they knew it."

"So they killed Elena to—"

"To get closer. To get trust. To become Arthur's right hand."

"It worked."

"It always does."

The study door creaks.

We freeze.

I can hear my heart beating. Loud. Too loud. Surely they can hear it too.

A shadow fills the doorway. Broad shoulders. That voice.

"Leaving so soon?"

Arthur's voice. Cold. Predatory. Like he's been waiting for this moment all night.

I grab the laptop. Julian steps in front of me. His body is a shield. "Step aside, Father."

"I don't think so."

"You can't stop us."

"I don't have to." Arthur steps into the light. He's wearing a suit. Still dressed for dinner. His eyes are flat. Empty. "I just need to delay you."

The lights flicker. Boots stomp in the hallway. Heavy. Rhythmic. Multiple sets.

He called security.

Julian grabs my hand. His palm is sweating. "Window."

We run. Shove the curtains aside. The window looks out over the garden. Two stories down. The ground is dark. The shadows are long.

"We jump?"

"We jump."

I tuck the laptop under my arm. Press it against my chest. If I lose this, we lose everything. Julian kicks the window open. Glass shatters. Cold air rushes in. It smells like wet grass and freedom.

Behind us, the study door bursts open.

"Now!"

We leap.

The ground rushes up. I hit hard. Pain shoots through my ankle. White hot. Sharp. I roll to absorb the impact. Grass stains my clothes. Mud soaks through my sleeve. But I'm alive. The laptop is still in my arms.

Julian pulls me up. "Run!"

We run through the garden. Past the fountain. Water splashing. Past the rose bushes. Thorns catching at my jacket. Through the hedge maze. I can hear shouts behind us. Flashlights cutting through the dark.

But we're faster. We're younger. We have more to lose.

We reach the wall. Julian boosts me over. My hands grip the stone. I scramble. The laptop bangs against the bricks. I land on the other side. He follows. Lands hard. Grunts.

We're out.

Breathing hard. Heart pounding. Lungs burning.

I look at Julian. His face is cut. A gash above his eyebrow. Blood running down his cheek. His shirt is torn. His hands are scraped raw.

But he's smiling.

"We got it," he says.

"We got it."

I hold the laptop tight. It's warm now. Alive with secrets.

The truth is inside.

And now we know who to run from.