Chapter 7 - THE NIGHT WE MET
Stellan took me back to the Whitmore Hotel.
Not physically.
Through security footage.
Dominic had recovered archived camera records purchased years ago through one of Cross Holdings’ security firms.
The ballroom.
The hallway.
The service elevator.
Me in a black catering uniform.
Stellan in a half-mask.
Then a man approaching me twenty minutes before I found Stellan bleeding in the stairwell.
I leaned closer to the screen.
“I remember him.”
Stellan’s jaw tightened.
“Who?”
“He offered me champagne.”
The glass slipped from my memory into the present.
My head spinning.
A stranger catching my arm.
Adrian—Stellan—appearing out of nowhere.
Knocking the drink away.
I stared.
“I thought I was just tired.”
“You were drugged.”
My stomach rolled.
Stellan paused the footage.
“The man was working for my father.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“You said your father was dead before Fern was born.”
“He died eighteen months after the gala.”
“So he knew me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Stellan looked at Dominic.
Dominic opened another file.
“Selene, what was your mother’s maiden name?”
I frowned.
“Vale was hers. I took it after my parents separated.”
“Her full name?”
“Elena Grace Vale.”
Dominic placed a photograph on the table.
My mother.
Young.
Maybe twenty-two.
Standing beside a much younger Silas Cross.
My mouth went dry.
“No.”
Stellan stared at the photograph as if it had insulted him.
“Did your mother ever mention my father?”
“Never.”
“Is she alive?” Dominic asked.
“No. She died when I was sixteen.”
“Cause?”
“Car accident.”
Stellan and Dominic exchanged a look.
I stood.
“Don’t.”
Neither spoke.
“Don’t look at each other like that.”
Stellan came around the table.
“Selene—”
“My mother died because a drunk driver crossed the center line.”
“Maybe.”
I slapped the photo down.
“No. Not maybe.”
Dominic’s phone buzzed.
He checked it.
“We have another file from Silas’s private archive.”
Stellan’s eyes darkened.
“What file?”
Dominic read the name.
“Project Vale.”
I stopped breathing.
The documents told a story I didn’t want.
My mother had worked briefly as an accountant for Cross Logistics.
She discovered money laundering.
Silas paid her to stay quiet.
Then, somehow, they became close.
Too close.
“Were they having an affair?” I asked.
Dominic hesitated.
“Looks that way.”
I laughed because crying would have destroyed me.
“So what? Silas Cross was my father?”
“No,” Stellan said immediately.
“How do you know?”
“Because my father had you tested when you were five.”
I stared at him.
“That sentence is insane.”
“Yes.”
“Why would he test me?”
Dominic continued reading.
Then went silent.
“What?”
He looked at Stellan.
“Boss.”
“Say it.”
Dominic swallowed.
“Silas thought Selene might be Marek’s daughter.”
My skin went cold.
“Marek?”
Stellan’s murderous uncle.
“No.”
Dominic handed me the report.
NEGATIVE.
I almost collapsed from relief.
“Not his.”
“No,” Stellan said.
But his expression remained hard.
I looked at him.
“What else?”
He didn’t answer.
I grabbed the file.
At the bottom was a handwritten note from Silas.
KEEP THE GIRL UNDER OBSERVATION. IF STELLAN EVER MEETS HER, SEPARATE THEM IMMEDIATELY.
I read it twice.
“Why?”
Stellan looked genuinely shaken.
Then Dominic’s phone rang again.
His expression changed as he listened.
“Where?”
He ended the call.
“Marek just sent us a message.”
“What message?”
Dominic turned the phone around.
A live video filled the screen.
Mrs. Thornbury was tied to a chair.
Behind her stood a man in a dark coat.
Marek Voss.
He smiled into the camera.
“Hello, nephew.”
May you like
Then he lifted a photograph of Fern.
“Bring me the child.”
