Chapter 9: The Friend Who Chose the Enemy
The first thing I felt was not anger.
It was confusion.
Because anger required certainty.
And I had spent the last twenty-four hours discovering that certainty was the one thing everyone around me had stolen.
Marcus left with Victoria.
My brother stood in my house after five years of being dead.
My mother, who I buried in my heart as a child, stood alive in front of me.
And somewhere between all those impossible things was the truth.
A truth nobody wanted me to find.
I stared at the message from Marcus.
*I tried to protect you from them.*
My fingers tightened around the phone.
“He’s lying.””
Ethan looked at the screen.
“You don’t know that.””
I turned toward him.
That answer surprised me.
“You’re defending him?””
“No.””
“Then what are you doing?””
“Admitting what I don’t know.””
The honesty irritated me.
Because I wanted someone to give me a simple answer.
Good person.
Bad person.
Friend.
Enemy.
But everyone had become something in between.
I looked at my mother.
“Who are they?””
She lowered her eyes.
“The people who built the plan against your family.””
“That doesn’t answer anything.””
“No.””
Her voice was quiet.
“Because the answer is complicated.””
I laughed.
“Of course it is.””
I walked toward the table.
“For years, every person around me has used that word.””
Complicated.
Family.
Business.
Protection.
Secrets.
Everything was complicated except one thing.
I was always the last person to know.
Maria stepped beside me.
“Boss.””
I looked at her.
“We need to decide our next move.””
She was right.
For years, I survived because I acted quickly.
Because I trusted my instincts.
But tonight my instincts were fighting each other.
Trust Ethan.
Trust my mother.
Trust nobody.
I looked at Ethan.
“Why did Marcus leave with Victoria?””
His expression darkened.
“Because they have the folder.””
“What’s in it?””
“The evidence your father left behind.””
“Why would Victoria have it?””
“She was never just your fiancée.””
The words bothered me.
“Explain.””
Ethan looked at the floor.
“Victoria approached you for a reason.””
My chest tightened.
“You knew?””
“I suspected.””
“You suspected?””
I stepped closer.
“You let me get engaged to someone you suspected was using me?””
Ethan didn’t move.
“I tried to stop it.””
“When?””
“Before the engagement.””
I froze.
“What?””
He reached into his coat.
Pulled out an old phone.
He unlocked it.
There were messages.
Between him and an unknown number.
The dates were from two years ago.
Before I met Victoria.
Before I announced our relationship.
I read the first message.
*Ethan: He trusts too easily.*
Another reply.
*Unknown: Then make him trust the right person.*
My stomach tightened.
I looked up.
“Who is this?””
“I don’t know.””
“You don’t know?””
“No.””
“That’s convenient.””
His expression hardened slightly.
“I spent five years hiding from people who wanted me dead.””
The room went quiet.
“You think I wanted to live like that?””
I said nothing.
Because for the first time, I saw something behind Ethan’s anger.
Exhaustion.
He wasn’t a man who escaped.
He was a man who survived.
“I watched you build a life without me.””
His voice lowered.
“I watched you become someone who hated the parts of himself that reminded you of me.””
I looked away.
Because that hurt.
Because it was true.
After Ethan died, I stopped being reckless.
I stopped taking chances.
I became controlled.
Calculated.
Exactly what my father wanted.
Or maybe exactly what someone else wanted.
“What did Victoria want?””
Ethan looked at my mother.
“She wanted access.””
“To what?””
“Everything.””
I frowned.
“Company?””
“Yes.””
“Money?””
“Yes.””
“Then why Noah?””
Ethan’s face changed.
That answer scared me.
“Because Noah was never the target.””
I remembered his words on the phone.
Your son wasn’t the one who overheard our secret.
He was the one we were trying to protect.
“Then who was?””
Ethan looked at me.
“You.””
The room went silent.
“Me?””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
“Because someone realized you were starting to uncover the truth.””
I shook my head.
“I wasn’t.””
“You were.””
“How?””
He pointed at Maria.
“Your security changes.””
I looked at her.
“What?””
“You started reviewing internal access.””
Maria nodded slowly.
“He’s right.””
“When?””
“Three months ago.””
“Why didn’t I know?””
Maria looked uncomfortable.
“Because I handled it quietly.””
I stared at her.
“You too?””
She looked down.
“I found unusual activity.””
“What activity?””
“Someone was accessing restricted files.””
“Who?””
She hesitated.
That hesitation was enough.
“Maria.””
She whispered:
“Marcus.””
The name felt heavier every time.
I closed my eyes.
My oldest friend.
The man who stood beside me when I had nothing.
The man who knew every weakness I had.
“How long?””
“Almost a year.””
My hands went cold.
A year.
A year of smiling across conference tables.
A year of shaking his hand.
A year of trusting him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?””
“Because I wasn’t sure.””
I looked at her.
“And now?””
“Now I know.””
The answer hurt.
Because Maria had been right.
She didn’t accuse without proof.
She waited.
She investigated.
And I had ignored the signs.
I looked toward Ethan.
“What is Marcus trying to do?””
Ethan walked to the window.
“Finish what your father stopped.””
“Taking the company?””
“No.””
He turned around.
“Taking control of the family.””
I frowned.
“That doesn’t make sense.””
“It does if the company is only the beginning.””
“What else is there?””
My mother answered.
“Legacy.””
I looked at her.
“Explain.””
She sat down.
“Your father created a private foundation.””
“A foundation?””
“Yes.””
“For what?””
“To protect information.””
I almost laughed.
“Information.””
“Yes.””
“Everyone keeps talking about information like it’s gold.””
My mother looked at me.
“In your family, it was.””
Ethan continued.
“Your father knew the company was vulnerable.””
“Because of ownership?””
“Because of what the company had access to.””
“What did it have access to?””
Nobody answered.
Then Maria’s phone rang.
She looked at the screen.
Her face changed.
“What?””
She answered.
“Hello?””
A few seconds passed.
Then she looked at me.
“Boss.””
“What?””
“It’s Noah’s room camera.””
My heart dropped.
“What about it?””
“Someone accessed it.””
My entire body went cold.
“When?””
“Five minutes ago.””
“From where?””
Maria turned the phone toward me.
The location appeared.
My house.
Not outside.
Not nearby.
Inside.
I grabbed the phone.
“Who accessed it?””
Maria’s face was pale.
“The system recorded the user.””
“Who?””
She swallowed.
Then showed me the name.
I stared.
Because it wasn’t Marcus.
It wasn’t Victoria.
It wasn’t Claire.
It wasn’t anyone I expected.
The account belonged to someone who had been dead for twelve years.
*Rocco Vale Sr.*
My father.
I looked at Ethan.
He looked just as shocked.
“That’s impossible.””
My mother stood slowly.
“No.””
Everyone looked at her.
She stared at the screen.
Her face filled with fear.
“It isn’t impossible.””
My voice lowered.
“What do you mean?””
She looked at me.
“The account was created before your father died.””
“So?””
She swallowed.
“Your father never gave that access to himself.””
The room went silent.
“Then who did?””
My mother whispered:
“The only person who knew his passwords.””
A horrible thought entered my mind.
“No.””
Ethan’s expression changed.
“Rocco.””
I looked at my mother.
She didn’t need to say the name.
I already knew.
Because the person who knew my father’s secrets…
The person who knew his passwords…
The person who had access to everything…
Was the same person who raised me.
My mother.
Then the camera notification updated.
A new recording appeared.
From Noah’s bedroom.
Created one minute ago.
Maria opened it.
The screen showed my son asleep.
Then a figure entered the room.
A woman.
Holding a folder.
The camera angle changed.
The woman looked directly into the lens.
And smiled.
Because she knew we were watching.
The recording ended with a whisper.
A voice I recognized.
My mother’s voice.
“I’m sorry, Rocco.””
The screen went black.
May you like
Then one final message appeared.
*“Now you know why I had to disappear.””*
