Chapter 11 - The Cross Family Inheritance
By breakfast, Fern was worth more money than I could comprehend.
I hated every dollar of it.
News outlets began reporting unusual movements inside Cross Holdings.
Nobody knew about Fern yet.
Stellan’s attorneys worked to keep her identity sealed.
The trust documentation was extraordinary.
Adrian had spent years designing it.
Evan had helped before his death.
If Vincent Cross was legally alive, Fern inherited combined voting rights previously assigned to Evan and Adrian.
Forty-one percent.
Stellan controlled thirty-eight.
The remaining shares were distributed among holding companies.
Together, Stellan and Fern controlled the company.
Vincent did not.
That was why he needed her.
Not dead.
Under his control.
The distinction did not comfort me.
“We leave Chicago,” Stellan said.
“No.”
He looked up.
“You’re becoming predictable.”
“So are you.”
“Selene—”
“I’m not spending Fern’s childhood running from this.”
“She is eleven months old.”
“Exactly. I want this finished before she’s old enough to remember it.”
Stellan leaned back.
For once, he did not argue immediately.
“Then we expose Vincent.”
“Yes.”
“And Marcus.”
“Yes.”
“And probably half the people in the ledger.”
“Yes.”
He stared at me.
“You understand those people will not appreciate it.”
“I’m beginning to understand that nobody in your world appreciates anything.”
His mouth twitched.
“Not entirely inaccurate.”
We created a plan.
Copies of the ledger went to three attorneys in different states.
Encrypted copies went to investigative journalists with delayed release instructions.
A federal prosecutor recommended by a retired judge was contacted discreetly.
If anything happened to Fern, me, Stellan, Helena, Thornbury, Darius, or Daniel, everything would automatically release.
It was the first time I watched Stellan choose exposure over power.
The ledger contained information that could damage him too.
“What did you do?” I asked.
He looked at me.
“In the book.”
“There are payments tied to you.”
“Yes.”
“Illegal?”
“Yes.”
I appreciated the lack of excuses.
“Will you go to prison?”
“Possibly.”
My stomach tightened unexpectedly.
Stellan noticed.
“You look disappointed.”
“I’m thinking about Fern.”
“Of course.”
“She likes you.”
His gaze dropped.
“That is not a legal defense.”
“I know.”
“Selene.”
“What?”
“If finishing this means answering for things I’ve done, I will.”
That was the moment I began trusting him.
Not because he claimed innocence.
Because he didn’t.
That afternoon, one of Adrian’s encrypted accounts activated.
A message arrived.
Only four words.
THE CHURCH. MIDNIGHT. SELENE.
Stellan immediately said no.
I immediately said yes.
We argued for twenty minutes.
Eventually we compromised.
I would go.
He would be nearby.
The church stood in an industrial neighborhood near the river.
Closed for renovations.
At 11:58 p.m., I entered.
Empty pews.
Dust.
Candles.
A man stepped from behind the altar.
My heart stopped.
For one impossible second, I thought it was Adrian.
Same height.
Same movement.
Then he stepped into the light.
Julian Vale.
“You.”
He raised both hands.
“I’m not armed.”
“You arranged my job at the estate.”
“Yes.”
“You sent Daniel after Fern.”
“No.”
“Then who did?”
“My father.”
“Marcus?”
“Yes.”
I stared at him.
“You expect me to believe you?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Julian almost smiled.
“You sound like Stellan.”
“That isn’t a compliment.”
“It might become one.”
“Why am I here?”
He pulled out a phone.
“Because Adrian is alive.”
Everything stopped.
“You’ve seen him?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know now.”
“You’re lying.”
“I saw him three months ago.”
My voice failed.
“Three months?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Detroit.”
“Why?”
“He contacted me.”
“You betrayed Stellan.”
“Yes.”
“Because Adrian told you to?”
“No.”
Julian’s face hardened.
“Because I discovered my father had been working with Vincent for twenty years.”
I stared.
“Marcus killed Evan.”
“Yes.”
“And you knew?”
“Not until recently.”
“What does Adrian want?”
“To destroy both of them.”
“And why hasn’t he contacted me?”
Julian’s expression softened.
“Because Vincent told him Fern would die if he did.”
My knees weakened.
“He watched you from a distance.”
“What?”
“He saw Fern.”
Tears came instantly.
“When?”
“Twice.”
I covered my mouth.
Adrian had seen his daughter.
My daughter had been in the same city as her father.
“Why didn’t he come to us?”
“Because Adrian believed staying dead was protecting you.”
Anger cut through my grief.
“Everyone needs to stop protecting me without asking.”
Julian actually laughed.
“He said you would say something like that.”
I stared at him.
“You really saw him.”
“Yes.”
“Prove it.”
Julian handed me his phone.
Video.
Adrian.
Recent.
Standing beside a window.
“Selene.”
His voice.
I stopped breathing.
“If Julian got this to you, things have gone further than I hoped.”
He looked older.
Tired.
But alive.
“I’m sorry.”
My eyes filled.
“I wanted to come home a thousand times.”
He looked away.
“Vincent has someone near you. Someone I still haven’t identified.”
My heart dropped.
Inside the mansion.
Again.
“Do not assume the obvious person is the traitor.”
Adrian looked into the camera.
“And tell Stellan the promise beside Evan’s grave was never made to him.”
The video ended.
I looked at Julian.
“Who made it?”
“Adrian.”
“To whom?”
Julian’s face went pale.
“Your daughter.”
“That makes no sense.”
“It will.”
Footsteps sounded behind us.
Stellan appeared.
I glared.
“No guards?”
“Technically none inside.”
Julian smiled.
“Still controlling.”
Stellan moved toward him.
“You have ten seconds.”
Julian’s expression became serious.
“Adrian is alive.”
“I know now.”
“He wants to come back.”
“Then why hasn’t he?”
“Because Vincent has Fern’s original birth certificate.”
I frowned.
“So?”
Julian looked at me.
“The one filed at the hospital isn’t the original.”
My skin went cold.
“What does that mean?”
“It means Adrian registered another name for Fern before he disappeared.”
Stellan’s eyes narrowed.
“What name?”
Julian whispered:
“Fern Vincent Cross.”
The middle name wasn’t a tribute.
It was a key.
May you like
And according to Julian, that name could unlock the last thing Adrian had hidden.
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