Chapter 6 The Person They Trusted
For one terrible second, nobody moved.
Thomas lay on the stone floor.
Emilia knelt beside him, holding his hand and calling his name.
Marcus stood between her and the passage, listening to the approaching footsteps.
Victor held the ledger against his chest.
Edwin watched the darkness with an expression that had lost all trace of calm.
"The person who forged the agreement is still alive," Marcus said.
Victor nodded.
"And you said that person is close to us."
"Closer than you realize."
"Who?"
Victor looked at him.
"I don't know."
Marcus's eyes hardened.
"That's not good enough."
"I know the identity of the person who ordered the forgery. I don't know who is carrying out the orders now."
Emilia looked up.
"Then tell me who ordered it."
Victor hesitated.
Before he could answer, another set of footsteps sounded.
Closer.
Edwin pointed toward a narrow opening behind the old altar.
"Move."
Marcus looked at Thomas.
"We can't leave him."
"We're not leaving him," Edwin said. "There's another exit. We get him out through the tunnel."
Marcus bent beside Thomas.
"Help me."
Victor lowered the ledger.
Together, Marcus and Victor lifted Thomas carefully.
Emilia stayed beside them.
Her father's head rested against Marcus's shoulder.
The sight was strange.
The man who had once questioned whether Marcus was good enough for his daughter was now depending on him to carry him to safety.
Emilia followed them through the hidden opening.
As she stepped into the passage, she looked back.
The chapel was empty.
But she could feel someone watching.
Then a shadow moved across the doorway.
"Go," Edwin ordered.
They disappeared into the tunnel.
The passage was barely wide enough for two people.
Cold air moved through it.
Marcus carried most of Thomas's weight while Victor supported the other side.
Emilia walked beside them.
She kept looking at her father's face.
"Dad?"
Thomas did not answer.
"He's breathing," Marcus said.
She looked at him.
"How do you know?"
"I can feel it."
His voice was steady.
She nodded.
Then she noticed something.
His sleeve was torn.
There was a small mark near his wrist where Thomas had grabbed him.
"You've got blood on your shirt."
Marcus glanced down.
"Not mine."
Emilia looked away.
She did not want to think about the gunshot.
She wanted to believe this could still be fixed.
Her marriage.
Her family.
Everything.
But the old certainty was gone.
She had spent years thinking her greatest problem was a husband who had forgotten how to make time for her.
Now she wondered whether the life they had built together rested on secrets neither of them had chosen.
After several minutes, the tunnel opened into an old storage room beneath the western wing.
Edwin pushed aside a wooden panel.
A narrow staircase appeared.
"We're almost out."
Marcus looked at him.
"Where does this lead?"
"Behind the gardener's cottage."
"How do you know?"
"I designed the passage."
Marcus stared at him.
"You built this place?"
Edwin gave him a tired look.
"Your father and I built more of it than you know."
That answer raised another question.
Marcus didn't have time to ask.
They reached the cottage.
Victor unlocked the back door.
Rain hammered the roof.
A dark SUV waited beyond the trees.
Edwin opened the rear door.
"We need a doctor."
"I'll call one," Marcus said.
Victor shook his head.
"No hospital."
Marcus turned.
"Why?"
"Because if the people who shot Thomas are watching the roads, they'll know exactly where he goes."
"My security team can protect him."
"Your security team has already been compromised."
Marcus went silent.
Victor continued.
"The safest place is the old coastal clinic."
"Where?"
"Ten minutes from here."
Marcus looked at Emilia.
She nodded.
"Take us."
The coastal clinic was a small private medical center hidden behind a row of pine trees.
It had once served fishermen and families living along the coast.
Now it operated quietly, accepting patients who wanted privacy.
A gray-haired physician met them at the back entrance.
Her name was Dr. Miriam Cole.
She was in her late fifties, with silver hair cut to her chin and an observant expression that made people instinctively tell her the truth.
She examined Thomas quickly.
"The injury is serious, but he's stable."
Emilia released a breath she had been holding for what felt like an hour.
"Will he be all right?"
"We'll know more after I examine him properly."
"Can I stay?"
Dr. Cole looked at her.
"You're his daughter?"
"Yes."
"Then stay."
Emilia squeezed her father's hand.
Marcus remained outside the treatment room.
He stared through the glass.
For years, he had thought himself capable of handling any crisis.
A business failure could be corrected.
A lawsuit could be fought.
A damaged reputation could be rebuilt.
But watching Emilia sit beside her father reminded him of something he had forgotten.
Not everything could be solved by force.
Some things required patience.
Trust.
Presence.
Things he had been poor at giving.
Daniel's words returned to him.
Don't make the mistake Dad made.
Marcus looked down at his phone.
He had twelve missed calls.
He ignored them.
Then he saw one message from his mother.
Marcus, call me immediately.
He hesitated.
He called.
She answered almost instantly.
"Where are you?"
"With Emilia."
Silence.
Then his mother's voice changed.
"Is she safe?"
"Yes."
"What happened?"
"I don't know how much you know."
"What do you mean?"
"Bellweather."
Another silence.
Marcus closed his eyes.
"Mother, what did Dad do?"
She exhaled slowly.
"Your father made mistakes."
"That's not an answer."
"No."
Her voice trembled.
"It's not."
Marcus stared through the glass at Emilia.
"Did you know about the Foster agreement?"
"I knew there was an agreement."
"Did you know Emilia was involved?"
"I knew your father believed you would marry her."
Marcus's stomach tightened.
"Everyone knew except me."
"Your father wanted you to choose her freely."
"Then why hide everything?"
"Because he was afraid you would reject her if you believed the marriage had been planned."
Marcus said nothing.
His mother continued.
"Richard loved you, Marcus. But he didn't always know how to love without controlling the outcome."
Marcus looked at the floor.
That sounded painfully familiar.
"Who forged the agreement?"
His mother went silent.
"Mother."
"I don't know."
"You do."
"I know what your father told me."
"What?"
"He said the person who forged it was someone he trusted."
"Who?"
She hesitated.
"Marcus, you need to understand something."
"What?"
"Richard wasn't afraid of the Fosters."
"Then who was he afraid of?"
His mother's voice dropped.
"Someone inside the family."
The call ended.
Marcus stood motionless.
Someone inside the family.
He thought about Daniel.
His mother.
The executives.
The people who had worked with his father.
Then another thought struck him.
Someone who had known the family's secrets for decades.
Someone with access to everything.
Someone he had never questioned.
His mother's words echoed in his mind.
Someone inside the family.
Emilia sat beside her father's bed.
The clinic room was quiet except for the soft rhythm of the monitor.
Thomas remained unconscious.
She studied his face.
He looked older now.
More fragile.
She reached for his hand.
"Dad."
Nothing.
"I wish you had told me."
Her voice broke.
"I would have listened."
She rested her forehead against his hand.
"I would have believed you."
A tear slipped down her cheek.
Behind her, the door opened.
She turned.
Marcus stood there.
For several seconds, they simply looked at each other.
He did not enter.
He waited.
That small gesture surprised her.
"Come in."
He stepped inside.
He looked exhausted.
The polished confidence he carried at business meetings was gone.
He pulled a chair beside her but did not sit too close.
"How is he?"
"Stable."
Marcus nodded.
"That's good."
Emilia looked at him.
"You were right."
"About what?"
"I was never good at asking for help."
Marcus looked down.
"I should have noticed."
She almost smiled.
"You should have."
"I know."
He accepted it without defending himself.
That was new.
Emilia looked at her father.
"Did you know?"
Marcus understood.
"The marriage?"
She nodded.
"Not until today."
"Your father?"
"My father believed I'd marry you someday."
She turned toward him.
"Did he arrange it?"
"No."
Marcus shook his head.
"He believed we might choose each other."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
She looked away.
"That's what scares me."
Marcus leaned forward.
"What?"
"How much of our life was surrounded by things we didn't understand."
He was quiet.
Then he said, "Whatever brought us together, I chose you."
Her eyes met his.
"Did you?"
"Yes."
"When?"
"The first time I realized I could talk to you without pretending to be someone else."
Emilia's expression softened.
Marcus continued.
"I just didn't know how to keep choosing you after that."
She looked down.
"That's the problem."
"I know."
The room fell quiet.
Marcus reached across the space between them.
His fingers stopped before touching hers.
He waited.
Emilia looked at his hand.
Then, slowly, she placed her fingers in his.
His hand closed gently around hers.
There was no demand in the touch.
No claim.
Just warmth.
Emilia's eyes filled.
"I missed this," she whispered.
Marcus swallowed.
"So did I."
She looked at him.
"Then why did you make it so difficult?"
His eyes lowered.
"Because I thought loving you meant making sure you never needed anything."
"And what did you need?"
He looked at her.
"You."
The honesty of it hurt.
Emilia squeezed his hand once.
Then released it.
"I can't come back yet."
Marcus nodded.
"I know."
"I don't know if I can."
"I know."
"You can't promise me everything will change."
"I won't."
She looked surprised.
Marcus continued.
"I can't promise you that I'll never make another mistake."
"Then what can you promise?"
He looked directly at her.
"I can promise that I'll stop assuming you'll always be there."
Her expression changed.
It was not forgiveness.
Not yet.
But something had shifted.
Then Thomas stirred.
Emilia immediately turned.
"Dad?"
His eyes opened slightly.
She leaned closer.
"Can you hear me?"
Thomas looked at her.
Then at Marcus.
His eyes widened.
"Marcus."
"I'm here."
Thomas tried to speak.
Marcus moved closer.
"What is it?"
Thomas struggled to form the words.
"Don't..."
Emilia leaned closer.
"Don't what?"
Thomas's gaze shifted toward the door.
"Trust..."
His voice faded.
Marcus looked at Emilia.
"Who?"
Thomas's eyes opened wider.
He stared at Marcus.
Then whispered,
"Daniel."
Everything stopped.
Emilia stared at Marcus.
Marcus went completely still.
His younger brother.
Daniel.
The man who had brought him the letter.
The man who had told him not to repeat their father's mistakes.
The man who had helped him search for Emilia.
Marcus shook his head.
"No."
Thomas's eyes closed again.
Emilia looked at Marcus.
"Could he have meant someone else?"
"I don't know."
Marcus stood.
His expression had changed.
Not anger.
Something colder.
Doubt.
He stepped toward the door.
Emilia watched him.
"Where are you going?"
"I need to find my brother."
"Marcus."
He stopped.
She could see the conflict in his face.
"You believe him?"
Marcus looked back at her.
"I don't know what I believe."
Then his phone rang.
Daniel.
Marcus answered.
"Where are you?"
Daniel's voice was strangely calm.
"At the family house."
Marcus looked through the clinic window.
"Don't leave."
A pause.
Then Daniel said,
"Too late."
The call ended.
Marcus stared at the phone.
A message appeared immediately afterward.
It contained a photograph.
Marcus opened it.
His face drained of color.
The photograph showed Daniel standing inside Richard Aldridge's old study.
In his hand was the original Bellweather ledger.
And beneath the photograph was a single sentence:
Your brother knows why your marriage had to happen.