Chapter 22 – Lance #3
"The evidence is irrefutable," Gwen replied with certainty. "Bank records don't lie. DNA tests don't lie. Death certificates don't lie." She took another deep breath. “On the finances side, we have another ace in the hole. I cracked this file this morning. A numbered account with 100 million Euro.”
Micah whistled low. “She had that much money?”
Gwen smirked. “It seems your mother stole it from Charles. Tucked it in a numbered account, then hid the location in the Monserrat files. It’s probably why your grandfather was so desperate for the files. Why he killed her.”
I stared at her. “100 million euros. That’s madness. Did you know, Silas?”
The old man scrubbed his hand over his beard. “No. I had no idea. At the end, she was terrified. Secretive. If I’d have known, I’d have stopped her. By force if I needed to. Taking that money from Charles…” His voice trailed as he shook his head. “That was her death sentence.”
Gwen shook her head. “It wasn’t just that she stole it. Looking at the data, she also stole the data transfers from the original account. Showing where Charles got the money from. He’s been positioning himself as a back-end broker, taking a cut for years. Stealing from the family.”
Atticus muttered under his breath. “That’s one very big reason to go after her. If his brothers ever found out. They would have dealt with him years ago.”
I took a breath, feeling Morgan's hand tighten on mine. "There's one more thing."
The room went still again. Everyone could sense this was the worst part.
I looked at Hector, who was still leaning against the wall with that carefully maintained composure. "Brother, I... there's something else in the files. Something about you."
Hector's expression didn't change, but something flickered in his eyes. Wariness. "What about me?"
I pulled up the medical records, DNA test results.
My hands weren't quite steady. "Our mother had these tests done in secret.
Stored them with the rest of the evidence.
" I forced myself to meet his eyes directly.
"When she was married to my father, to the man we both thought was your father, My grandfather assaulted her.
" The words felt like glass in my throat. "You were born from that assault."
Silence.
Complete, suffocating silence.
Hector didn't move. Didn't speak. He just stood there, frozen, his face completely blank.
"What?" The word was barely audible.
"You're not his grandson, Hector." I had to keep going, had to get it all out. "You're his son. He-he raped our mother. My voice cracked despite my efforts. "She loved us both. But you..., you're his son. Not Dad’s"
Hector still didn't move. His face was a mask, empty of all expression. But I could see his hands. Clenched at his sides, knuckles white with pressure.
"He raped our mother," Hector said finally, his voice completely flat. Emotionless.
"Yes."
"He's my father?"
"Yes."
"I've been serving him. Calling him grandfather. My entire life." Each word was delivered with mechanical precision, like he was reading from a script.
Silas pushed back from the table slowly, approaching Hector with careful movements. "Your mother tried to save you. Both of you. This evidence was her way out, for all of you."
Hector's jaw tightened, the only sign of emotion breaking through his controlled facade. "I'm his son."
"You are," I confirmed gently. "Which means you're his heir. His direct heir. Not me."
Something shifted in Hector's expression. Confusion cutting through the shock. "What?"
Atticus spoke up carefully. "The brothers. They'll only accept one of Charles's own as a replacement. Not an outsider. Not law enforcement. Family."
"Hector is the legitimate heir now," Gwen added softly. "Charles's actual son. If we can get the brothers to turn on Charles, they'll accept Hector as his replacement."
Hector laughed. A harsh, broken sound that had nothing to do with humor. "You want me to take his place. To become him."
"No." I moved to stand beside my brother, close enough that he had to look at me. "If you want, you can burn it to the ground. I’ll help. You’re his son, but you're also our mother's son. And she died trying to stop him." I held his gaze. "We finish what she started."
Hector stared at me for a long moment. Then his carefully maintained control cracked. He turned away sharply, bracing his hands against the wall, his shoulders rigid with tension.
"He r-raped her," Hector said again, his voice rough now. "And I... I've been helping him. Serving him. I thought I was honoring family."
"You didn't know," Morgan said gently from behind us.
"I should have known." Hector's hands curled into fists against the wall. "I should have seen what he was."
"He's very good at hiding what he is," Silas said quietly, years of experience in his voice. "Your mother did her best to protect you."
Hector was silent for a long moment, breathing carefully, visibly struggling to maintain composure. When he finally turned back around, his face was still blank, but his eyes... his eyes were devastated.
"What do you need from me?" he asked, his voice controlled again but hollow underneath.
The meeting continued for another hour, planning, strategizing, and identifying which brother to approach first. But my attention kept drifting back to Hector, who'd retreated to the corner and hadn't spoken again.
Finally, people started to leave. Micah promised to start making discreet inquiries. Pierce and Gavin began planning security protocols. Atticus went to check on Gwen and the baby.
I found myself alone with Silas, who was carefully wrapping my mother's ring back in its velvet cloth.
"She'd be proud of you," he said quietly, not looking up. "Both of you. For finishing what she started."
"I hope so." I watched him handle the ring with such reverence, such care. "Silas... thank you. For loving her. For keeping this safe all these years."
He finally looked up, his eyes suspiciously bright. "She was extraordinary. The kind of woman who made you want to be better than you were." He held out the cloth. "She'd want Morgan to have this back."
I took it carefully, the weight familiar now. "Will you stay? Help us see this through?"
"To the end," he promised. "For Christiane."
Later that night, I found Morgan in our temporary bedroom, standing by the window and looking out at the city lights. She turned when she heard me, her expression softening.
"How's Hector?" she asked quietly.
"Broken. Numb. But he'll survive.” I moved to stand behind her, wrapping my arms around her waist. "We all are."
She leaned back against my chest. "What happens now?"
"Now we approach the brothers. Show them what My grandfather has done. Turn them against him." I rested my chin on top of her head. "And then we end this. For good."
"Together," she said firmly.
"Together." I turned her around to face me, pulling out the velvet cloth. "I have something for you."
Her eyes widened as I unwrapped the ring. Cleaned now, the microfilm extracted, but still beautiful.
"My ring," she breathed.
"My mother was brilliant, and brave, and she died trying to protect the people she loved." I slid the ring back onto her finger, where it belonged. "She would love for you to have this."
I lifted her hand to my lips, pressing a kiss to the inside of her wrist where her pulse beat strong and steady.
"We're going to end this, Spitfire. We're going to destroy him and take back our lives." I met her eyes. "
Morgan's eyes shimmered with tears she refused to let fall. "Promise?"
"Promise." I pulled her close, holding her tight. I just prayed it was one I could keep.