Chapter 3
Damien’s father was Sebastian Moreau.
My uncle.
Ruth’s younger brother.
And the man who had supposedly retired from family operations ten years earlier.
Supposedly.
I looked at Ruth.
“What happened twenty years ago?”
She did not answer immediately.
Old memories cost more when family is involved.
Then:
“Your father’s car failed outside Albany.”
I remembered.
I was twenty-two.
My father Henri survived with a broken shoulder and three cracked ribs.
Everyone called it mechanical failure.
Ruth never did.
“I checked the car afterward.”
Her fingers tightened around the cane.
“Someone had been inside it.”
“Sebastian?”
“I couldn’t prove it.”
Damien stepped forward.
“My father would never—”
Ruth turned on him.
“Your father stood beside Henri’s hospital bed and asked who would take temporary command if he didn’t wake up.”
Silence.
I remembered that too.
Sebastian sitting at the foot of my father’s bed.
Concerned uncle.
Loyal brother.
Maybe.
Maybe not.
“What does phase two mean?”
Ruth looked at me.
“After Henri’s accident, Sebastian used those exact words with two garage men.”
“How did you hear?”
“I was behind the service partition.”
She had kept that secret twenty years.
“Why never tell me?”
“Your father made me promise.”
Of course.
Dead men and their promises.
Always expensive.
Damien shook his head.
“No. Dad left all this.”
Sloane looked at him.
“No, Damien.”
He turned.
Her expression changed.
Not fear now.
Pity.
“You were the one who believed that.”
That landed.
I looked at her.
“How long have you worked for Sebastian?”
Damien stared.
Sloane answered:
“Six years.”
My cousin went completely still.
He thought she was his associate.
Maybe his lover.
Maybe both.
Apparently she had always belonged to his father first.
I almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.
“What was phase two tonight?”
Sloane said nothing.
Rafe entered carrying a small sealed device found in Damien’s black equipment case.
Not dangerous.
A tracker.
My tracker.
Intended for my clothing.
I looked at Damien.
He looked genuinely confused.
Sloane closed her eyes.
So Damien had been ordered to disable the car.
Sloane had been ordered to make sure whoever came afterward could keep following me.
Two assignments.
Different knowledge.
Same plan.
Then Ruth whispered:
“Vincent.”
I turned.
“If Sebastian is using the old plan…”
She swallowed.
“Your car was never the target.”
May you like
I stared at her.
“You were.”
