Chapter 2 - The Birthday Trap
The conference room door moved half an inch before Samuel slammed the emergency lock into place.
“Service stairs,” he whispered.
“Now.”
Ethan shoved the folders inside his backpack while Samuel killed the lights. The office instantly fell into darkness except for the glow of the city outside.
Someone knocked once.
Not loudly.
Confidently.
Three slow taps.
The kind of knock from someone who expected the door to open.
Samuel ignored it.
Another three taps followed.
Then silence.
Ethan could hear nothing except his own heartbeat.
Samuel carefully opened a concealed panel behind a bookshelf. A narrow hallway appeared.
“I installed this after your grandmother received threats twenty years ago.”
“You've been expecting something like this?”
“I've been hoping it would never happen.”
They slipped into the hidden passage.
Behind them, the conference room door exploded inward.
Someone had used a steel ram.
Ethan looked back.
Three men entered the office.
The man in the gray coat walked in last.
He calmly surveyed the room before bending to pick up a single sheet of paper Samuel had intentionally left behind.
The stranger smiled.
“They're still inside the building,” he said.
His voice was calm.
Professional.
“Seal every exit.”
Samuel pulled Ethan down the narrow staircase.
“Don't stop.”
“What if they find us?”
“They already have.”
...
Five minutes later they emerged into an underground parking garage.
Samuel unlocked an aging blue pickup truck that looked as though it had survived three decades of construction work.
“This?” Ethan asked.
“No one steals ugly vehicles.”
They drove out through a maintenance gate instead of the main exit.
Only after they entered city traffic did Samuel finally speak.
“They weren't thieves.”
“Then who?”
“I've seen one of them before.”
“Where?”
Samuel tightened both hands around the steering wheel.
“At Arthur Bell's funeral.”
Ethan turned toward him.
“My grandfather's funeral?”
“The official one.”
“You said he disappeared.”
“He disappeared publicly.”
Samuel glanced in the mirror.
“But privately... there was a funeral attended by fewer than twenty people.”
“You were there?”
“I wrote his final will.”
“And the man in gray?”
“He wasn't a mourner.”
Samuel's voice became quieter.
“He was watching to see who inherited everything.”
Ethan stared through the windshield.
“Who is he?”
“I don't know his real name.”
“What do people call him?”
Samuel hesitated.
“The Collector.”
...
That evening Ethan returned home alone.
Samuel insisted on keeping the trust documents inside a secure vault until Ethan's birthday.
“You're being watched now,” Samuel warned.
“Act normal.”
Normal.
Ethan almost laughed.
Nothing about his life felt normal anymore.
As he parked outside the house, he noticed Mariana's car already in the driveway.
The kitchen lights glowed warmly through the windows.
She opened the front door before he reached it.
“There you are!”
She wrapped both arms around him.
The hug lasted longer than usual.
Almost as if she were checking whether he carried something beneath his jacket.
“You smell like old paper,” she said.
“I was helping Samuel organize some files.”
“The lawyer?”
“Yes.”
“For what?”
“My grandmother's estate.”
Mariana's smile barely moved.
“I thought that was settled years ago.”
“So did I.”
She stepped aside.
“I made your favorite dinner.”
Inside, the dining room looked different.
Candles.
Fresh flowers.
Wine.
Mariana almost never cooked anymore, yet the table was covered with homemade pasta, roasted vegetables, garlic bread, and cheesecake.
She even wore the blue dress Ethan had once told her made her look like the woman he first fell in love with.
For a moment...
He almost wanted to believe none of the last twenty-four hours had happened.
She poured him wine.
“To us.”
He lifted the glass.
“To us.”
He never drank it.
Instead he pretended to sip while watching Mariana finish nearly half her own glass.
“You've been distant lately,” she said softly.
“Work.”
“You're always working.”
“So are you.”
She smiled.
“Rodrigo says I'll probably become Vice President this year.”
There it was.
Rodrigo again.
“You talk about him a lot.”
“He's my boss.”
“He also comes to our house.”
Mariana laughed lightly.
“You're still thinking about that?”
“You never answered why.”
“He trusts me.”
“So much that he visits after dark?”
Her smile faded.
“You're jealous.”
“No.”
“You are.”
“No.”
She leaned closer.
“You know why Rodrigo likes working with me?”
“Why?”
“Because he believes I deserve more than this.”
She gestured around the house.
“More than old furniture.”
“More than secondhand trucks.”
“More than counting every grocery receipt.”
Every sentence landed like another stone.
Ethan looked at the woman sitting across from him.
She genuinely believed wealth defined a person's value.
When had that happened?
Or had she always believed it?
...
At 9:17 p.m., Mariana excused herself to answer a phone call.
She stepped onto the back patio.
Ethan quietly moved toward the hallway.
Her handbag rested on the console table.
Her phone was gone.
But a leather planner remained partially open.
Inside was tomorrow's schedule.
9:00 AM — Meeting.
11:30 AM — Lunch with R.
2:00 PM — Signatures.
4:00 PM — Flowers arrive.
5:30 PM — Ethan arrives.
6:00 PM — Celebration.
Beneath the schedule, one handwritten sentence had been circled three times.
Make sure he signs before 7.
Ethan photographed the page.
Then another folded paper slipped from the planner.
It was a floor plan.
Rodrigo's executive office.
A red circle surrounded one specific location.
Desk drawer B.
Before Ethan could examine it further, the patio door opened.
He slipped everything back exactly as he had found it.
Mariana walked inside smiling.
“Everything okay?”
“Perfect.”
“Who called?”
“Rodrigo.”
“What did he want?”
“He wanted to confirm tomorrow's celebration.”
She kissed Ethan on the cheek.
“He says everyone is excited to meet the husband I've been bragging about.”
Ethan forced himself to smile.
“I wouldn't miss it.”
...
The next morning Samuel called before sunrise.
“Don't go to work.”
“I wasn't planning to.”
“I found something.”
“What?”
“The forged authorization wasn't their first attempt.”
Ethan sat upright.
“What do you mean?”
“There have been four previous inquiries about your identity.”
“When?”
“The earliest was almost eighteen months ago.”
“That long?”
“Yes.”
Samuel paused.
“And every inquiry began exactly one week after Mariana accepted her promotion under Rodrigo.”
Ethan closed his eyes.
She hadn't accidentally met Rodrigo.
She had entered his company.
Perhaps...
For him.
Or for something connected to him.
“There's something else,” Samuel continued.
“I contacted Bell Meridian's private trustee in Switzerland.”
“And?”
“He confirmed someone has been asking detailed questions about Arthur Bell's hidden properties.”
“What properties?”
“I don't know.”
“But whoever they're working for believes Arthur left something even more valuable than money.”
“What could be worth more than eighty million dollars?”
Samuel answered without hesitation.
“A ledger.”
“What kind of ledger?”
“One that supposedly records every secret investment, every hidden partner, and every offshore account Arthur ever controlled.”
“And if someone finds it?”
Samuel's voice became deadly serious.
“They won't need your trust.”
“They'll own an empire.”
Before Ethan could respond, another call interrupted him.
Unknown Number.
He answered cautiously.
A woman's trembling voice whispered into the phone.
“Mr. Carter?”
“Yes.”
“My name is June.”
“The cashier?”
“Yes.”
“You bought your lottery ticket from me.”
“What about it?”
“They came looking for you.”
Ethan froze.
“Who?”
“Three men.”
“One of them wore a gray coat.”
“They wanted the surveillance footage from the night you bought the ticket.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
June's breathing became shaky.
“But before they left...”
She swallowed hard.
“They asked me one question.”
“What question?”
“They wanted to know whether you came to the store alone...”
She hesitated.
“...or whether your wife already knew you were about to become the richest man in the city.”
The line suddenly filled with static.
Then Ethan heard a loud crash.
June screamed.
The call disconnected.
He immediately tried calling back.
No answer.
Thirty seconds later, Samuel called again.
“Ethan.”
“I think something happened to June.”
“Listen carefully.”
“What?”
Samuel's voice was urgent.
“I just received security footage from the grocery store.”
“What did it show?”
“It wasn't a coincidence that you bought that lottery ticket.”
Ethan's blood ran cold.
“What are you talking about?”
Samuel took a slow breath.
“The footage shows someone standing behind you the entire time.”
“Who?”
“A woman wearing sunglasses.”
“So?”
“She followed you into the parking lot.”
Ethan frowned.
“I never noticed.”
“You wouldn't have.”
Samuel's voice dropped almost to a whisper.
“She disappeared before reaching her own car.”
“How?”
“There wasn't one.”
Silence.
Then Samuel spoke the words Ethan would replay in his mind for the rest of his life.
“Ethan...”
May you like
“She wasn't following you.”
“She was making sure you bought that exact ticket.”
