Chapter 12 - When the Past Walked In
Marin did not go to South Harbor.
Adrian refused.
This time she did not fight him.
Two guards had been injured.
That crossed a line between emotional courage and stupidity.
She returned to the Beacon Hill townhouse with Sofia while Adrian, Luca, Marcus, and police investigators went to the property.
Yes, police.
That surprised Marin.
“You expected him not to call them?” Sofia asked.
“Honestly?”
“No.”
“I’m still adjusting to your family.”
Sofia smiled without humor.
“So is Adrian.”
They sat in the kitchen at two in the morning.
Theodore occupied a chair as though invited.
Marin wrapped both hands around tea.
“Was your father as bad as people say?”
Sofia considered.
“He was complicated.”
“That’s usually what people say about men they loved but can’t defend.”
Sofia looked at her.
“Yes.”
Marin appreciated the honesty.
“He loved us,” Sofia continued. “Especially Adrian. Which may have been the problem.”
“How?”
“He wanted Adrian to become him.”
Marin thought of the quiet man who had spent the evening protecting everyone around him while fearing his own past.
“Did Adrian want that?”
“When we were kids? Yes.”
Sofia smiled sadly.
“Our father walked into a restaurant and everyone moved. Adrian thought that meant respect.”
“And later?”
“He learned the difference between respect and fear.”
The front door opened at 4:12 a.m.
Adrian entered.
Marin stood immediately.
He looked exhausted.
“You’re awake.”
“Obviously.”
Sofia rose.
“What happened?”
“Nothing was taken.”
Marin exhaled.
“The letter?”
“Still there.”
“Did you open it?”
He didn’t answer.
Sofia looked between them.
“I’m going upstairs.”
She left.
Marin waited.
Adrian removed his coat.
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
Her heart accelerated.
“What did it say?”
He walked into the library.
Marin followed.
Adrian placed an old envelope on the desk.
Yellowed.
Opened.
Inside were six handwritten pages.
“My father knew Samuel Vance.”
Marin sat.
“How?”
“Vance came to him with evidence against Corwin.”
“So your father wasn’t involved?”
“Not exactly.”
Adrian rubbed his forehead.
“He was involved in the smuggling network. But according to the letter, he wanted out.”
“Because of Vance?”
“Because my mother was sick.”
Marin said nothing.
“He planned to cooperate with federal investigators in exchange for protecting us.”
“What happened?”
“Corwin discovered it.”
Adrian looked down at the letter.
“My father paid two million dollars to get Vance out of Boston.”
Marin’s pulse quickened.
“So Vance didn’t die.”
“According to this, no.”
“Where did he go?”
“Canada.”
“Can you prove it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why didn’t your father tell authorities?”
“Vance refused. He had a daughter. Corwin threatened her.”
The pattern.
Always family.
Always leverage.
Marin felt anger rise.
“So your father helped him disappear.”
“Yes.”
“And the payment record made it look like something darker.”
“Exactly.”
“Does Corwin know Vance survived?”
Adrian shook his head.
“I don’t think so.”
Marin stood.
“Then find him.”
“If he’s alive.”
“Find his daughter.”
Adrian looked at her.
“What?”
“People don’t vanish completely.”
“Twenty years is a long time.”
“So?”
He almost smiled.
“You really hate impossible answers.”
“I arrange flowers for brides. Impossible answers are my specialty.”
He laughed.
It was quiet.
Tired.
But real.
Then his expression changed.
“Marin.”
She knew that tone.
“You’re ending this.”
“I’m getting you out.”
“Out of what?”
“My life.”
The words hurt instantly.
She hid it.
“Because of tonight?”
“Because Corwin won’t stop.”
“So we make him stop.”
“No.”
“Adrian—”
“I nearly traded the archive for your safety.”
“But you didn’t.”
“Only because you told me not to.”
“That matters.”
“It terrifies me.”
Marin stared.
He stepped closer.
“My father justified everything with family.”
“This is different.”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Because you’re asking what’s right.”
Adrian’s voice broke slightly.
“What happens the day I stop asking?”
Marin softened.
“Then the people who love you remind you.”
Silence.
The word love hung there unintentionally.
Neither touched it.
Adrian looked away.
“You shouldn’t have to become my conscience.”
“I’m not applying for the position.”
His mouth twitched.
“I need you safe.”
“You keep saying that like safety is something you can purchase.”
“I can purchase quite a lot of it.”
“But not all.”
“No.”
“Then maybe stop trying to solve everything with control.”
He looked at her.
“That’s easy for you to say.”
“Is it?”
Marin stepped closer.
“You think I didn’t want to control what Bennett thought? What my family thought? Why do you think I needed a fake boyfriend?”
He said nothing.
“I was terrified of being pitied.”
She laughed softly.
“So I tried to control the room. Control the story.”
“And?”
“I met you.”
“That seems like a punishment.”
“It was definitely inconvenient.”
He smiled.
She continued.
“Maybe neither of us gets to control what people do. Only what we do next.”
Adrian’s gaze dropped to her mouth.
Marin noticed.
Her pulse accelerated.
No kissing.
The rule suddenly felt childish.
Necessary.
Impossible.
Adrian stepped back.
“I should sleep.”
Disappointment stabbed.
“Right.”
Marin turned.
“Marin.”
She looked back.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Making me open the letter.”
“I didn’t.”
“No.”
He looked at her.
“But I wanted to know what you’d say after I did.”
That was more intimate than a kiss.
She left the library before she forgot every rule she had made.
At nine the next morning, Daniel Cho called.
He had found Samuel Vance.
Or at least someone matching him.
A seventy-one-year-old Canadian citizen named Samuel Vincent living outside Halifax.
Former American port employee.
Same birth date.
Same middle name.
Different surname.
Alive.
Adrian stared at the report.
Then at Marin.
“If it’s him—”
“Corwin’s biggest secret just became a witness.”
Adrian nodded.
For the first time, victory seemed possible.
Then Daniel’s expression changed on the video screen.
“There’s another issue.”
“What?”
“Someone else searched the same records yesterday.”
Adrian went cold.
“Who?”
Daniel turned the screen.
A login record appeared.
CORWIN MARITIME LEGAL SERVICES.
Marin’s stomach dropped.
Corwin knew Samuel Vance might still be alive.
May you like
And if Corwin reached him first, the truth buried for twenty years might disappear permanently.
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