Chapter 6 - The Storage UnitForty-eight hours later, I was back in New York wearing a brown wig, drugstore glasses, and a sweatshirt that made me look like a graduate student who had lost an argument with laundry day.
Theo hated the plan.
This improved it considerably.
“You look ridiculous,” he said through my earpiece.
I pushed a cart through the basement of Dad’s storage facility in Queens.
“You chose the wig.”
“I was angry.”
“You’re still angry.”
“Yes.”
“Because I came?”
“Because you refused the twelve-person security team.”
“They would defeat the purpose of being unnoticed.”
“I could have sent Trent.”
“It’s my mother’s storage box.”
“You enjoy saying things I cannot argue with.”
“Very much.”
The Bellamy organization had created the impression I remained in France. A body double had been photographed entering the villa. Theo himself appeared at a charity dinner in Monaco the previous evening to reinforce the deception.
He hated being several thousand miles away from me.
I knew because he had told me nineteen times.
Unit 416 contained the remains of my old life.
Dad had moved everything there after Grandma died because our apartment was too small.
Boxes.
Furniture.
Christmas decorations.
Mom’s old pharmacy textbooks.
Grandma’s kitchen utensils.
I stood in the doorway for a moment and felt something painful catch in my chest.
Before Theo.
Before billions.
Before murder conspiracies.
This had been my family.
Small.
Messy.
Ordinary.
I wanted it back for approximately three seconds.
Then I remembered ordinary had been a lie.
“Clare?”
“I’m fine.”
“You went quiet.”
“I found the boxes.”
“Do you see anyone?”
“No.”
I pulled the door closed behind me.
A Bellamy surveillance team monitored the hallway from outside the building despite my objection to an escort.
Theo compromised badly.
He had six men within ninety seconds of me.
I found the books in a carton labeled GRANDMA — BEDROOM.
Her copy of Les Misérables was exactly as I remembered.
Cracked red leather.
Pages filled with pencil notes in French.
Page 717.
I opened it.
Nothing.
“Maybe I remembered wrong.”
“What’s on the page?”
“Jean Valjean.”
“That narrows it down considerably.”
“Your literary criticism is devastating.”
I turned the book upside down.
A small strip of paper fell out.
Numbers.
Coordinates.
Theo became serious instantly.
“Read them.”
I did.
He entered them.
“Brooklyn.”
“Where?”
“Green-Wood Cemetery.”
Of course.
“You sound unsurprised,” Theo said.
“My grandmother hid a criminal archive underneath a chapel. A cemetery is practically cheerful.”
Beneath the coordinates was a name.
Madeleine Bellamy.
I stopped.
“What?”
“My mother’s name.”
“Read it.”
I did.
Theo was silent.
“She was buried as Maro.”
“You’re certain?”
“I went to her funeral.”
“Then someone placed another marker.”
Green-Wood Cemetery sprawled across Brooklyn like a city for the dead.
I arrived just before closing.
Theo’s men shadowed me at a distance.
The coordinates led away from the main paths to an older section beneath cedar trees.
There was no Bellamy monument.
Only a small stone angel.
At its base, nearly covered by moss, a plaque read:
MADELEINE
No surname.
1988–2015.
I crouched.
“She knew.”
“Who?”
“My mother.”
A tiny keyhole was hidden in the base.
The silver key from Eleanor fit.
The angel shifted.
Inside was a sealed metal tube.
“Clare, don’t open it there.”
“I know.”
Movement sounded behind me.
Leaves.
Footsteps.
I stood.
A man in a groundskeeper uniform approached.
“Cemetery closes in ten minutes, miss.”
“Thank you.”
I slipped the tube beneath my coat.
He smiled.
Then drew a gun.
I froze.
“Give me the cylinder.”
Theo’s voice exploded through my earpiece.
“Down!”
I dropped.
A suppressed shot cracked from somewhere behind the trees.
The groundskeeper fell.
Chaos erupted.
Another attacker emerged from behind a mausoleum.
I ran.
Gunfire struck stone.
Theo’s security converged.
Someone grabbed my arm.
I swung instinctively with the metal cylinder.
It connected with a face.
The man cursed.
I kicked him in the knee.
He fell.
Trent had taught me that.
Aim for joints.
Pride heals.
Kneecaps don’t.
I sprinted toward the road.
A black SUV screeched to a stop.
The rear door opened.
“Get in!”
A Bellamy guard.
I started toward it.
Then stopped.
Black lion cuff link.
On his wrist.
Board security.
Not Theo’s team.
The man reached for me.
I ran the opposite direction.
“Clare!” Theo shouted in my ear.
“They infiltrated your team!”
“What?”
“Black lion!”
Immediately his tone changed.
“Do not enter any vehicle. Trent is three minutes away.”
I ran between monuments.
Two men followed.
My lungs burned.
Another shot hit a tree.
I ducked behind a stone wall.
“Where are you?” Theo demanded.
“I don’t know!”
“Describe.”
“Dead people!”
“Clare.”
“Large angel. White mausoleum. Hill.”
“I have your tracker.”
“Then why ask?”
“To keep you talking.”
Footsteps approached.
I held the cylinder like a weapon.
A shadow crossed the wall.
I swung.
The man caught my wrist.
“Enough.”
Adrian Vale stood before me.
Older than my childhood memory, but unmistakable.
Silver hair.
Gray eyes.
Impeccable coat.
He looked almost sad.
“Hello, Clare.”
My blood turned cold.
“Uncle Adrian.”
His expression changed.
“You remember.”
“More than you hoped.”
He looked toward the trees.
“Come with me.”
“No.”
“I am trying to save you.”
“Everyone who says that points guns at me eventually.”
“I do not have time to explain.”
“Make time.”
His jaw tightened.
“Theo Bellamy cannot protect you from what is coming.”
“Did you take Eleanor?”
“No.”
“Are you part of the Circle?”
His silence was answer enough.
I stepped backward.
“You visited my mother.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To keep her hidden.”
“From whom?”
“Lucien.”
“He died twenty-three years ago.”
Adrian gave me a strange look.
“No, Clare.”
Everything inside me stopped.
“He didn’t.”
A gunshot struck the stone between us.
Adrian pulled me down.
His men fired back.
“Who is shooting?”
“The people I am trying to protect you from.”
“You expect me to believe you?”
“No. I expect you to survive long enough to hate me later.”
He dragged me toward a mausoleum.
The metal door opened.
A tunnel descended beneath it.
Apparently every wealthy criminal in my life owned tunnels.
Adrian pushed me inside.
I resisted.
“Theo is coming.”
“That is precisely what Lucien wants.”
The name hit harder now.
“Lucien is alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Adrian looked at the metal cylinder under my arm.
“Looking for that.”
He locked the mausoleum behind us.
The tunnel ended in an underground service garage.
A car waited.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“You have thirty seconds.”
“Until what?”
An explosion shook the tunnel.
Dust fell.
“Until Lucien’s men reach this entrance.”
I hated him.
But I got into the car.
Theo’s voice in my earpiece cut through.
“Clare.”
“I’m with Adrian.”
Silence.
Dangerous silence.
“Get away from him.”
“He says Lucien is alive.”
Another silence.
Then Theo said something in French I was fairly sure should not be translated in polite company.
Adrian sat opposite me.
“He can hear us?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Adrian leaned closer to the microphone at my collar.
“Theodore, if you send your men after this car, Lucien will intercept them.”
Theo’s voice turned glacial.
“If Clare is harmed, there is nowhere on this planet you can hide.”
Adrian almost smiled.
“You really are Lucien’s son.”
Theo went quiet.
Adrian continued.
“But perhaps Sebastian raised you well enough to become something else.”
The car accelerated.
I clutched the cylinder.
“Where are you taking me?”
“To the one place Lucien cannot enter openly.”
“Where?”
“Federal Plaza.”
I stared.
Adrian Vale, chairman of the Bellamy board and apparent Circle member, was taking me to federal agents.
“That makes no sense.”
“It will.”
“What is inside this?”
He looked at the cylinder.
“Madeleine’s confession.”
“My mother?”
“Yes.”
“She knew about the Circle?”
“More than anyone.”
My hands tightened.
“Why didn’t she tell me?”
“Because Lucien threatened you.”
I stopped breathing.
Adrian’s face softened.
“Your mother spent her entire adult life pretending to be ordinary because it was the only way to keep you alive.”
The car entered Manhattan.
“Then why is this happening now?”
“Because Juliet died.”
“She died two years ago.”
“And two years ago the final protection agreement expired.”
“What agreement?”
Adrian looked exhausted.
“The one Sebastian bought with his life.”
Federal Plaza appeared ahead.
Theo’s voice returned.
“Clare, Trent is outside the building. Go directly to him.”
Adrian shook his head.
“No Bellamy personnel.”
“I trust Trent.”
“You shouldn’t.”
My heart dropped.
Theo’s voice sharpened.
“What did you say?”
Adrian stared at me.
“Ask Theodore how the Calabrians found your Sullivan Street apartment so quickly.”
I frowned.
“They were monitoring the accounts.”
“No.”
Theo went silent.
Adrian continued.
“Ask how they knew Zoe was there.”
I looked at the microphone.
“Theo?”
No answer.
“Ask who provided your employment history to Luciel Blue.”
“Theo.”
His voice came quieter.
“Trent ran the background investigation.”
Cold spread through me.
Adrian nodded.
“Trent has worked for Lucien for twelve years.”
“No.”
“Theo?”
“I don’t know.”
It was the first time I had ever heard uncertainty in his voice about Trent.
Adrian opened the car door when we stopped.
“You have one choice now, Clare.”
I stepped out.
Federal agents waited inside the entrance.
“Open Madeleine’s confession with them.”
“And Theo?”
“Keep him away until you know who is loyal.”
I looked at the man who had visited my childhood every Christmas.
“Are you loyal?”
Adrian smiled sadly.
“No.”
That answer surprised me.
“I am guilty.”
He glanced toward the building.
“There is a difference.”
Then he got back into the car.
“Wait.”
He looked at me.
“Is Lucien really alive?”
Adrian’s face became grave.
“Yes.”
“Does Theo know?”
“No.”
“Why come back now?”
Adrian looked at the metal cylinder.
“Because Sebastian Bellamy left four billion dollars to his granddaughter.”
His eyes met mine.
“And Lucien believes whichever man marries her controls it.”
The car door closed.
As Adrian disappeared into traffic, Theo’s engagement ring suddenly felt much heavier on my hand.
Not because I doubted Theo.
May you like
Because somewhere out there, his biological father had apparently returned from the dead.
And he intended to use our wedding to reclaim an empire.
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