Chapter 4: The Man in the Photograph
Adrian stared at the photograph until the edges blurred beneath his fingers.
His father had been dead for twelve years.
Adrian had watched the coffin lowered into the ground. He had signed the documents, delivered the eulogy, and inherited the empire his father had spent a lifetime building.
Yet there he was, standing beside a little boy outside the abandoned Blackwood chapel, wearing the same charcoal overcoat Adrian remembered from childhood.
The boy's face was unmistakable.
Adrian's face.
Not a resemblance. Not a coincidence. The same dark eyebrows, the same narrow chin, even the small crescent-shaped scar above the left eyebrow that Adrian had acquired falling from a horse when he was seven.
Except Adrian had no memory of the photograph.
And his father was supposed to have been dead when the boy was born.
"That's impossible," Daniel whispered.
Adrian lowered the phone.
"Tell me something I don't know.""
Daniel took the photograph and enlarged it with trembling fingers.
"The chapel was closed after the fire.""
"What fire?""
"The one that supposedly killed your father's private secretary. Fifteen years ago.""
Clara stared at him.
"Supposedly?""
Daniel looked uncomfortable.
"My adoptive father worked for Blackwood Industries. He told me there were certain places on the estate we weren't allowed to discuss. The chapel was one of them.""
Adrian reached for his phone.
He called the detective back.
"Detective Harris, I need the address of the chapel. And I need officers at the estate immediately. Two children are in danger.""
"Mr. Blackwood, we're already investigating the death of Helen Bennett. You cannot go charging into another potential crime scene.""
"I'm not asking permission.""
"And I'm telling you that if the photograph is genuine, someone may be manipulating you into walking into a trap.""
Adrian looked at Clara.
She was holding Mia against her shoulder while Lily clung to her waist. The little girl had heard enough to understand that someone might take her away again.
"Then send enough officers to keep that from happening," Adrian replied.
He ended the call.
Clara stepped toward him.
"I'm going with you.""
"No.""
"That little boy might be connected to my family.""
"Which is exactly why you and the girls are staying somewhere secure.""
Clara's eyes flashed.
"You don't get to decide what happens to my family, Adrian.""
He absorbed the accusation without answering.
She was right.
For years, he had believed his father's version of events because it was easier than questioning the man who had raised him. Now two children had walked into his wedding carrying proof that his entire childhood might have been built on lies.
He wasn't going to make another decision simply because it was convenient.
"You're right," he said.
"You decide. But I want you to understand that Victoria has already threatened you, and Helen is dead.""
Clara looked down at Mia.
For several seconds, the only sound was the baby's quiet breathing.
Then Clara lifted her head.
"I'm coming.""
Daniel shook his head.
"This is reckless.""
Clara turned toward him.
"Reckless was letting Victoria threaten my daughter while everyone stood around pretending it was a family disagreement.""
Daniel fell silent.
Adrian called his head of security and arranged for two trusted employees to take the children to a protected apartment owned by the company. He gave Clara the address and told her she could leave the chapel whenever she wanted.
She agreed, but only after making him promise that nobody would separate her from the girls.
At 9:47 p.m., Adrian's black SUV left the estate.
Rain swept across the windshield as they drove toward the old chapel, which stood on a wooded hill beyond the original Blackwood property line.
Daniel sat in the front passenger seat, repeatedly checking his phone.
Clara sat beside Adrian in the back, holding the silver necklace tightly in one hand.
"You knew my mother," she said suddenly.
Adrian turned toward her.
"No. I knew the woman my father told me she was.""
"Did you hate her?""
The question caught him off guard.
He watched the rain slide down the window.
"When I was sixteen, I waited outside the gates for three hours because I heard she'd sent a letter. My father told me she had chosen another life. He said she didn't want me.""
Clara's expression softened.
"My mother used to sit by the window on my birthday. She said there was a boy somewhere who deserved to know he hadn't been abandoned.""
Adrian swallowed.
"Why didn't she come back?""
"Because she was afraid.""
"Of my father?""
Clara nodded.
"And of what he would do to his children.""
The SUV turned onto a narrow gravel road.
Ahead, the chapel emerged from the darkness.
Its stone walls were streaked with black water. Ivy covered the entrance, and several windows had been boarded shut. A rusted iron cross leaned above the door.
But there were fresh tire tracks in the mud.
Someone had been there recently.
Adrian stepped out first.
The air smelled of wet leaves and smoke.
Daniel followed, carrying a flashlight. Clara came last.
"Stay behind me," Adrian told her.
She gave him a hard look.
"I'll stay beside you.""
He almost smiled.
Then he saw the light beneath the chapel door.
They approached slowly.
Inside, a child's voice echoed through the darkness.
"Are you going to tell me where my mother is?""
Adrian stopped.
The voice sounded painfully familiar.
An older man's voice answered.
"Your mother made a terrible choice, Alexander.""
Adrian's blood turned cold.
He pushed open the door.
The chapel was illuminated by a dozen candles. Dusty wooden pews lined the walls, and a large portrait of Adrian's father hung above the altar.
Beneath it sat a man in a wheelchair.
His face was thinner than Adrian remembered. His hair had turned completely white, and a long scar ran from his temple to his jaw.
But his eyes were the same.
Adrian's father looked up.
"Hello, son.""
Daniel dropped the flashlight.
Clara covered her mouth.
Adrian couldn't move.
"You died.""
His father smiled faintly.
"That's what I wanted everyone to believe.""
A small boy stood beside the wheelchair, wearing the blue coat from the photograph.
He stared at Adrian with enormous dark eyes.
Then he whispered, "You look like me.""
Adrian took one step forward.
"What's your name?""
The boy glanced at the older man.
"Alexander.""
Adrian's throat tightened.
"Who is your mother?""
The boy's eyes filled with tears.
"I don't know. Grandpa says she left me here.""
Clara made a small, broken sound.
Adrian looked at his father.
"Where is Victoria?""
His father folded his hands over a blanket covering his legs.
"Victoria is doing what she was raised to do.""
"Which is?""
"Protect this family.""
Adrian laughed bitterly.
"You faked your death, hid children, threatened a woman, and apparently murdered Helen Bennett. Is that your idea of protecting a family?""
His father's expression hardened.
"Careful, Adrian. You have no idea how much blood has been spilled to preserve the Blackwood name.""
Clara stepped forward.
"Where is my mother?""
For the first time, the older man looked genuinely unsettled.
He studied Clara's face for a long moment.
Then his gaze dropped to the necklace in her hand.
"Eleanor gave you that.""
"Yes.""
"Then she made a mistake.""
Clara's eyes filled with fury.
"She made the mistake of trusting you.""
The boy suddenly moved away from the wheelchair.
"Grandpa?""
The older man didn't look at him.
"Go to the back room, Alexander.""
"No.""
The word surprised everyone.
The boy took another step toward Adrian.
"You said my father was dead.""
Adrian felt his heart hammering.
His father slowly turned toward the child.
"Alexander, go inside.""
The boy shook his head.
"You said he was dead because you didn't want me to find him.""
Adrian crouched in front of him.
"Who told you that?""
The boy pointed at the older man.
"He said if I ever saw you, I should run.""
Adrian looked up.
His father reached beneath the blanket.
Daniel shouted, "Adrian, move!""
A sharp metallic click sounded through the chapel.
Adrian grabbed Alexander and pulled him behind the nearest pew.
Clara screamed.
May you like
The old man was holding a pistol.
And the chapel doors slammed shut behind them.
