Chapter 8 - The Final Twist and UnmaskingI fell through the dense brush, clutching my bleeding shoulder. Darkness threatened to pull me under, but the image of my daughters kept my legs moving.
I stumbled out onto the main highway just as a sleek black sedan screeched to a halt in front of me. The rear door flew open.
"GET IN!" a voice barked.
I dragged myself into the leather back seat, collapsing onto the floorboards. The car accelerated violently, tearing away from the Montgomery Estate.
I looked up, gasping for air, expecting to see Dex or another FBI team.
Sitting in the passenger seat, turning around to look at me, was a man with graying hair, wearing an oxygen mask, his face scarred and weathered.
My breath hitched in my throat. I couldn't speak. It was impossible.
"Dad?" I choked out.
My father—the man I believed had committed suicide eight years ago after losing his company—pulled down his oxygen mask.
"Hello, Ethan," my father said, his voice deep and raspy. "I'm sorry I had to play dead for so long. But it was the only way to protect you."
"You're... you're alive?" I sobbed, the shock overpowering the screaming pain in my shoulder. "What is going on?!"
"Arthur Montgomery and your uncle didn't bankrupt me, Ethan," my father revealed, his eyes blazing with vengeance. "I faked my death and handed them a poisoned company. The entire Vance-Dominion merger is a trojan horse. Every asset Camila thinks she just inherited tonight is worthless. I liquidated the entire holding structure three hours ago from an offshore account in Singapore."
I stared at him, stunned into complete silence.
"And Camila?" I whispered.
"Camila thinks she won," my father smiled darkly, holding up a remote detonator unit connected to a encrypted global network interface. "She thinks she controls the children, the money, and the company. But she forgot one critical detail."
"What detail?"
My father leaned closer, whispering the truth that blew my mind into a thousand pieces:
"Camila isn't Arthur Montgomery's daughter. You are, Ethan."
The universe seemed to freeze.
"Eight years ago in Seattle," my father continued, "Camila wasn't sent to trap you. You were sent to trap her. Arthur's late wife had an affair with me thirty years ago. You and Camila are half-siblings. The triplets aren't just heirs—their existence proves the illegal bloodline mixing that instantly invalidates every corporate charter the Montgomery family has signed in the last fifty years!"
Before I could digest the horrifying, mind-bending truth, my phone—still in my pocket—rang.
It was an incoming video call from an unknown number.
I answered with trembling, blood-stained fingers.
The screen lit up. It was Regina, Lucy, and Valerie. They were sitting inside a brightly lit room.
Regina looked directly into the camera lens, holding up her arm.
Except... her tattoo wasn't a broken compass anymore. The temporary ink she had drawn on herself in the park was gone. Beneath it was a permanent, dark birthmark—in the exact shape of the Vance family crest.
Regina smiled a chilling, adult-like smile into the camera and whispered:
May you like
"Daddy... Grandpa told us to tell you... the game is finally over."
THE END... OR IS IT?
