CHAPTER 6 — The Daughter Who Never Died
CHAPTER 6 — The Daughter Who Never Died
No one moved.
Nathan replayed the footage.
Again.
Again.
Again.
The woman stepped from the black SUV.
Tall.
Elegant.
Dark hair tucked beneath a silk scarf.
When she removed her sunglasses for just one second...
Grace gasped.
"My daughter..."
Alexander's knees nearly gave way.
Emily Sterling.
His younger sister.
Officially declared dead after a boating accident eleven years ago.
He had identified her body himself.
Or at least...
He thought he had.
Nathan broke the silence.
"The airport cameras confirmed facial recognition."
Alexander shook his head.
"Impossible."
Harold quietly replied,
"Unless the body wasn't hers."
Grace slowly sat down.
Tears streamed down her face.
"I knew."
Everyone turned.
Alexander stared at his mother.
"You... knew?"
Grace nodded through her tears.
"I never believed she was dead."
"You never told me."
"They said grief made me delusional."
She smiled sadly.
"So eventually..."
"I stopped speaking."
Alexander felt an unbearable weight settle in his chest.
For eleven years...
His mother had carried hope alone.
Nathan enlarged another frame.
Richard handed Emily a passport.
A different name.
Different nationality.
Different life.
Alexander whispered,
"She's been hiding."
Harold corrected him.
"No."
He looked toward the screen.
"Someone has been hiding her."
Later that night...
Alexander received an encrypted email.
No sender.
No signature.
Only one attachment.
A video.
He pressed play.
The screen remained black for several seconds.
Then...
Emily appeared.
Older.
Tired.
Very much alive.
She looked directly into the camera.
"If you're watching this..."
"...Richard has failed."
Alexander stopped breathing.
Emily continued.
"Alex..."
"I'm sorry."
"I couldn't come home."
"They would have killed all of you."
Alexander whispered,
"Who?"
Emily shook her head.
"I don't know every name."
"I only know they wanted Mother's trust."
"They staged my death because I refused to sign."
Grace covered her mouth.
Emily's voice broke.
"They kept me alive because they believed I'd eventually surrender."
She looked straight into the camera.
"But I never did."
The video suddenly glitched.
Emily looked frightened.
"They're here."
She leaned closer.
"If Richard returns..."
"...don't trust—"
The recording abruptly ended.
The final words echoed through the silent room.
Alexander slowly closed the laptop.
The same unfinished warning.
His father.
Now Emily.
Both had died—or disappeared—before naming the traitor.
Nathan suddenly looked toward the mansion's security monitor.
"Sir..."
Alexander turned.
"What?"
Nathan pointed at the front gate.
A single black limousine had just entered the estate.
No appointment.
No authorization.
The vehicle stopped in front of the mansion.
A chauffeur opened the rear door.
An elderly man stepped out wearing an expensive charcoal suit.
Harold Benson's face instantly turned pale.
He whispered only three words.
"Not him..."
Alexander frowned.
"Who is he?"
Harold answered with visible fear.
"The founder..."
"The founder of Blackridge."
The old man smiled warmly at the security camera.
Then, without being invited...
He walked toward the front door.
In his right hand...
He carried a sealed envelope.
May you like
Across the front, written in elegant handwriting, were six chilling words:
For the real heir of Sterling.
