CHAPTER EIGHT – THE ROOM OF TRUTHS
The elevator descended farther underground than any normal building should allow.
Level B1...
Level B2...
Finally...
B3.
The doors opened.
Rows of climate-controlled archives stretched into the darkness.
Each cabinet carried a family name.
Politicians.
Judges.
Business leaders.
Every file contained decades of confidential records.
Emily stared in disbelief.
"This isn't a laboratory."
Detective Harris nodded.
"It's leverage."
Charles Hawthorne hadn't been collecting money.
He had been collecting secrets.
One cabinet stood alone in the center of the room.
Its label read:
HAWTHORNE – PRIVATE
Richard entered the access code he had used for years in his father's office.
The lock clicked open.
Inside lay a single leather journal.
His father's handwriting covered every page.
Richard began reading aloud.
"If you're holding this journal, then my brother has finally revealed himself."
He turned another page.
"Charles believed power should belong only to those willing to manipulate others."
Another page.
"When my grandchildren are born, he will come for them."
Richard stopped breathing.
Emily looked over his shoulder.
The next sentence changed everything.
"The child marked by the star must never fall into Charles's hands."
Liam instinctively covered the birthmark on his shoulder.
Richard looked at his son.
"Why you?"
Before anyone could answer, every light in the room went dark.
A slow applause echoed through the archive.
Someone stepped from the shadows.
Silver hair.
Dark tailored suit.
A calm smile.
Charles Hawthorne.
Alive.
Exactly as he had appeared on the screen.
"You finally found the truth," he said.
Richard stepped forward.
"You destroyed our family."
Charles shook his head.
"No."
"I simply waited for you to destroy it yourself."
His eyes shifted toward Emily.
"And you..."
May you like
He smiled.
"...you've been far more difficult to eliminate than I expected."
