Chapter Eighteen
Crown
We used the transmitter inside my grandmother’s ring to tell Lenora exactly what she wanted to hear.
Kenzie had stolen the original keys.
She had arranged to trade them for Rochelle.
Jayla and I were fighting again.
I planned to remain at the estate while Dorian handled the exchange.
Every word was false.
Lenora believed all of it.
Her representative selected an abandoned women’s hospital near the river. The property had once belonged to a charity Lenora founded before her disappearance.
A red door marked the entrance.
“That’s not a coincidence,” Jayla said when the surveillance image appeared.
“No.”
Evelyn’s mural. The photograph of the three women. Jayla’s childhood promise that monsters couldn’t pass through a red door.
The symbol had belonged to them long before it belonged to us.
Jayla reached for her protective vest.
“No.”
She looked at me.
“We discussed this.”
“We didn’t.”
“Exactly. You don’t get to decide.”
“I agreed to let you enter the Saint Lucia exchange. I’m not repeating that mistake.”
“You found me.”
“After communications were destroyed and three men tried to kill you.”
“Still counts.”
“Kenzie makes the exchange. You remain in the command vehicle with Micah.”
Her expression tightened.
I prepared for the argument.
Instead, she asked, “Will I have access to the cameras and her earpiece?”
“Yes.”
“And if something changes, you listen to me?”
“Yes.”
“Fine.”
Suspiciously easy.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Jayla.”
“I agreed.”
“You never agree that quickly.”
“Growth.”
I didn’t trust it.
Her smile confirmed I shouldn’t.
Kenzie stood before the hospital’s red door carrying a case containing two useless keys.
Jayla’s voice came through my earpiece from the command vehicle.
“She’s tapping her fingers.”
“She’s frightened,” I said.
“No. Watch the pattern.”
Kenzie tapped twice, paused, then tapped three times.
A pattern Jayla recognized from years of friendship.
“Two people inside,” Jayla said. “Three outside.”
“How do you know?”
“We used signals when men bothered us at clubs.”
I motioned for Dorian to redirect the third team.
A man emerged from the hospital.
Grant Holloway.
My former head of estate security.
He had worked for Victor before I took control. I kept him because he understood every weakness in our systems.
Apparently, that understanding had always belonged to Lenora.
“Kenzie Vale,” he greeted.
“Where is Rochelle?”
“Where are the keys?”
Kenzie lifted the case.
“Let me see her first.”
Grant opened the red door.
Two men brought Rochelle into the hallway.
Her hands were bound, but she remained on her feet.
Jayla’s breathing changed through the earpiece.
“She’s alive.”
“For now,” I replied.
Kenzie opened the case.
Grant checked the duplicate keys before signaling to someone behind him.
“Transfer the money.”
Micah’s voice entered our channel.
“Ready.”
Kenzie removed her phone.
Four million dollars transferred from Bishop’s accounts into federal custody.
A message confirmed the transaction.
Grant stared at the screen.
“What did you do?”
Kenzie threw the phone into a puddle.
“Something I should’ve done before I sold my friend.”
Grant reached for his weapon.
“Now,” I ordered.
My teams moved.
Gunfire erupted from the roof.
Dorian and I entered through the western corridor while the second team secured the grounds.
Rochelle dropped to the floor.
Kenzie covered her.
A bullet struck the wall above them.
Grant ran into the hospital.
I followed.
He knew the building better than we did, but old hospitals contained too many narrow halls and locked rooms for anyone to move quickly.
I caught him near the abandoned surgical wing.
He fired.
The bullet struck my vest.
I hit the floor hard enough to lose my breath.
Grant approached.
“You should’ve stayed suspended.”
I shot him through the leg.
He collapsed.
Dorian arrived and kicked the weapon away.
Grant laughed through the pain.
“You think Lenora cares about those keys?”
“Why arrange the exchange?”
“To keep you looking here.”
My phone vibrated.
Micah’s voice broke through.
“Crown, get back to the estate. Now.”
“What happened?”
“The archive is being copied remotely.”
“Disconnect it.”
“I can’t. Someone installed a physical relay inside the house.”
“Find it.”
“I did.”
Silence followed.
“Where?”
“Celeste’s old room.”
Celeste had cared for my family after our parents disappeared. She had died four years earlier.
Her room remained untouched because Simone couldn’t bring herself to empty it.
“What else?” I asked.
Micah hesitated.
“There are recordings. Celeste worked for Lenora.”
I looked toward Grant.
He smiled.
“She placed you in that house. She learned every routine, every weakness. Every secret those children whispered when they thought she loved them.”
Anger became something clean and cold.
I pressed my weapon against his forehead.
Dorian caught my wrist.
“We need him alive.”
“He betrayed my family.”
“He can lead us to Lenora.”
Grant’s smile widened.
“Your family was never yours, Crown.”
I wanted to pull the trigger.
Then Jayla’s voice came through my earpiece.
“Malachi.”
She had heard everything.
“Don’t let him choose who you become.”
My finger eased from the trigger.
Dorian restrained Grant.
“You’re becoming responsible,” he said.
“I dislike it.”
“I know.”
We returned to the entrance.
Jayla had left the command vehicle.
Of course she had.
She stood beside her mother while a medic examined Rochelle.
“You agreed to stay inside,” I said.
“The shooting stopped.”
“That was not the agreement.”
“I needed to see my mother.”
Rochelle looked at us.
“Are you two always like this?”
“Yes,” Dorian answered.
Jayla crouched beside Kenzie.
“You gave up the money.”
Kenzie nodded.
“And confessed to the federal team.”
“All of it?”
“All of it.”
Kenzie’s voice broke.
“I might go to prison.”
“Yes.”
“I’m scared.”
Jayla took her hand.
“I know.”
“Do you forgive me?”
“Not yet.”
Kenzie nodded as tears fell.
“But I believe you cared,” Jayla said. “That’s where we start.”
The two women embraced.
I looked away, giving them privacy.
Rochelle touched my arm.
“Thank you for saving me.”
“I came for Grant.”
“Liar.”
“I don’t need your gratitude.”
“You need something.”
“What?”
“To know the full truth about Victor.”
I faced her.
“Your mother didn’t stay away only because she feared him.”
“What else?”
“She believed you killed your father.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Lenora showed her evidence that you ordered the explosion.”
“I was at school.”
“The payment came from a trust in your name.”
Victor had controlled my trust until I turned eighteen.
“He used me.”
“Yes.”
“But Lenora convinced my mother I did it?”
“She convinced Nia that something inside you had always been wrong.”
I remembered the therapists. My silence. The incident at school. The way adults watched me as if my mind contained a danger they couldn’t name.
Lenora had taken every fear my mother once held and sharpened it.
“Why tell me now?”
“Because Nia is still hiding something.”
“What?”
“Your father didn’t die three days after the explosion.”
My pulse slowed.
“What are you saying?”
“Sebastian survived for almost a year.”
Rochelle held my gaze.
“Your mother and Lenora kept him alive beneath the winter garden. Whatever happened during that year turned Lenora into Bishop.”