Chapter 4 - The Gunshot That Changed Everything
“Samuel!”
Ethan shouted into the phone.
Nothing.
Only heavy static.
Then the line disconnected.
For several seconds, he remained frozen on the porch, staring at the dark screen.
His hands refused to move.
Finally, instinct took over.
He sprinted to his truck.
The engine roared to life as gravel exploded beneath the tires.
Samuel's office was twenty-three minutes away.
Ethan covered the distance in fourteen.
...
Blue and red lights painted the brick building.
Police cruisers blocked both entrances.
An ambulance sat beside the sidewalk.
Its back doors were closed.
Ethan jumped from the truck before it stopped rolling.
An officer grabbed his arm.
“You can't go inside.”
“My attorney is in there!”
“Sir—”
“Samuel Grant!”
The officer recognized the name immediately.
“You know Mr. Grant?”
“Yes!”
The officer's expression changed.
“He's alive.”
Ethan nearly collapsed with relief.
“He was shot in the shoulder.”
“Can I see him?”
“Not yet.”
“What happened?”
“We're still trying to determine that.”
Another detective approached carrying a transparent evidence bag.
Inside was Samuel's shattered phone.
The detective looked directly at Ethan.
“Mr. Carter?”
“Yes.”
“You were the last person speaking to him.”
Ethan nodded.
“Then there's something you should hear.”
The detective pressed PLAY.
The damaged recording crackled.
Samuel's voice echoed from the speaker.
“You are not Arthur Bell's only surviving heir.”
A pause.
Then the unfamiliar woman.
“You've already said too much, Mr. Grant.”
The gunshot.
The detective stopped the recording.
“Listen carefully.”
He replayed the final two seconds.
This time Ethan heard something beneath the gunshot.
A metallic sound.
Almost...
Like a train passing nearby.
“You heard it?”
The detective nodded.
“The shooter wanted us to think the call came from Samuel's office.”
“It didn't?”
“No.”
“He had already left.”
...
Meanwhile...
Mariana sat alone in Rodrigo's office.
The building had emptied for the night.
She stared at the wedding ring still lying inside Rodrigo's desk drawer.
Yesterday she had thrown it away without hesitation.
Today she couldn't stop looking at it.
Rodrigo entered carrying two glasses of whiskey.
“You're thinking too much.”
“You said Samuel was dead.”
“He should be.”
“You don't even know?”
Rodrigo placed a folder on the desk.
“Our people are checking.”
Mariana opened it.
Her face immediately turned white.
Every page contained photographs of Ethan.
Sleeping.
Driving.
Shopping.
Walking through parks.
Standing outside his own home.
Dates stretched back almost two years.
“You've been watching him before you hired me.”
Rodrigo smiled faintly.
“I hired you because we were already watching him.”
Mariana slowly looked up.
“You knew who he was before we met?”
“Yes.”
“Then why marry me into this?”
Rodrigo leaned against the window.
“Because people rarely suspect betrayal from the person they love most.”
Mariana felt her stomach twist.
“So none of this...”
She looked around the office.
“Our relationship...”
Rodrigo interrupted her.
“It was useful.”
Silence filled the room.
For the first time, Mariana realized she had never actually known the man standing before her.
...
At St. Vincent Medical Center...
Samuel regained consciousness just after midnight.
The detective entered his room.
“You're lucky.”
Samuel managed a weak smile.
“I've been luckier.”
“Can you identify the shooter?”
Samuel slowly shook his head.
“She wore gloves.”
“A woman?”
“Yes.”
“Did she say anything?”
Samuel closed his eyes.
“She whispered one sentence.”
“What was it?”
Samuel opened them again.
“She said...”
'The Bell bloodline ends tonight.'
The detective immediately left the room.
Samuel reached for his bedside table.
His briefcase was gone.
Everything inside it had disappeared.
Except one item.
A folded business card.
No name.
No address.
Only the image of a raven standing on a key.
The same symbol from the surveillance footage.
Written beneath it were six handwritten words.
You protected the wrong grandson.
Samuel's heartbeat accelerated.
Wrong grandson?
...
The following morning Ethan met the detective leading the investigation.
Detective Laura Bennett.
She spread several photographs across a conference table.
“We recovered these from Samuel's office.”
Every picture showed Arthur Bell.
Some were over forty years old.
Others had been taken only months earlier.
Ethan frowned.
“That isn't possible.”
“Exactly.”
Arthur Bell had supposedly died decades ago.
Yet one photograph clearly showed him walking through an airport less than six months earlier.
His face looked older.
His hair completely white.
But it was unmistakably the same man.
Detective Bennett pointed to another figure walking beside him.
A teenage boy.
“Do you recognize him?”
“No.”
“We don't either.”
She slid over another photograph.
This one showed the same teenager entering a private boarding school.
The school's name had been blacked out.
On the back of the picture someone had written:
Second heir.
Protected.
Ethan felt the room spinning.
“You think that's my cousin?”
“Possibly.”
“Samuel said I wasn't the only heir.”
“We're beginning to believe Arthur hid two grandchildren.”
“Why?”
“To make sure one survived.”
...
Later that afternoon Ethan finally decided to return home.
The front door stood slightly open.
He knew immediately something was wrong.
He had locked it before leaving.
Slowly he stepped inside.
Nothing appeared stolen.
Nothing appeared broken.
The living room looked untouched.
Then he noticed the family photographs.
Every picture containing Mariana had been removed.
Only the empty frames remained.
He searched the bedroom.
Her clothes were gone.
Her jewelry.
Her luggage.
Everything.
On the bed rested a single envelope.
His name had been written across it in Mariana's handwriting.
Hands trembling, Ethan opened it.
Inside was a short letter.
Ethan,
By the time you read this, I'll already be gone.
Everything you believe happened between us isn't entirely true.
Yes...
I betrayed you.
Yes...
I lied.
But there are things Rodrigo never allowed me to tell you.
If you want answers, don't look for me.
Find Locker 317 before he does.
Burn this letter.
Trust no one.
Not even the people trying to save you.
I'm sorry.
M.
Ethan turned the page over.
Nothing.
Until sunlight struck the paper.
Invisible ink slowly appeared.
Three words.
He's watching you.
The lights inside the house suddenly went out.
Every room fell into darkness.
At the exact same moment, Ethan heard footsteps upstairs.
Slow.
Measured.
Someone was inside the house.
Someone who definitely wasn't Mariana.
Then a calm male voice echoed from the second floor.
“Mr. Carter...”
“I've been waiting for you.”
The voice paused.
“You can come upstairs voluntarily...”
“Or I can bring down your brother.”
Ethan's blood turned to ice.
Brother?
May you like
He didn't have a brother.
Did he?
