Chapter 67: Bloodlines and Bulletproof Lies

The moment the screen flashed SECURITY BREACH, my heart stuttered.

“Dominic…” My voice trembled, barely above a whisper.

He was already on his feet, pulling a drawer open to retrieve a concealed weapon, his movements quick, practiced. Liam stood by the window, peeking through the blinds as the wind howled outside, bringing with it the crackling of leaves—too calculated to be natural.

“They’re here,” Liam confirmed grimly. “Two vehicles. No plates.”

“Stay inside. Both of you,” Dominic growled, his eyes narrowing as he checked the chamber of his gun. “If they get past me, you run. Do you hear me, Elena?”

“No.” I stood too, fury surging through my veins. “I’m not leaving you. Not again.”

He turned sharply, grabbing my wrist. “This isn’t a debate—”

“It never was!” I snapped. “I’ve been used, lied to, manipulated. If someone wants me dead, they’ll have to go through me this time. I’m done being collateral damage.”

Liam raised a brow. “She’s got your fire,” he muttered to Dominic.

“Worse,” Dominic muttered, but there was something dangerously proud flickering behind his storm-gray eyes.

A soft vibration buzzed from the table. My phone.

One new message.

“You won’t survive what’s coming. Just like Olivia didn’t.”

My throat constricted. The name—my mother’s name—sent a chill slicing down my spine.

I held the phone up to Dominic. “They know. They know what we’re investigating.”

He read the message, jaw tight. “We need answers. And we’re not going to get them here. Liam—create a diversion. Get us a ten-minute window. Elena and I are getting out.”

Liam nodded once, disappearing down the hallway with eerie calm, like he’d done this a thousand times.

Dominic grabbed my hand. “There’s a back tunnel—underground. My father used it as an escape route. It leads to a different cabin on the other side of the ridge.”

We raced through the hall, and Dominic punched in a code behind a painting. A steel door slid open, revealing stairs that descended into darkness.

Once we were below ground, the tunnel closed behind us, sealing us into cold, damp silence.

I clutched his hand tighter, heart pounding. “What do you think they meant about Olivia?”

He didn’t answer at first. Just kept walking, the beam of his flashlight cutting through the pitch-black corridor.

Finally, he said, “I think the love affair between our parents wasn’t the whole story.”

I swallowed. “You think Olivia was killed… because of what she knew?”

Dominic stopped and looked at me. “That letter we found—it wasn’t a bluff. If Victor ordered your mother’s death, it wasn’t just over a broken heart. It was to protect something bigger.”

“Something like… a conspiracy?” I asked.

“Exactly.”

We reached the end of the tunnel and emerged into the other cabin. Dominic locked the hatch behind us and grabbed a satellite phone from a shelf.

As he dialed, I paced. My brain was spinning, each piece of the puzzle clicking together—and revealing even darker edges.

Victor Caldwell. Richard Sinclair. Olivia.

And in the middle of it… me.

Dominic hung up. “Security’s covering our tracks. But we need to act fast.”

“Where do we go?” I asked.

“To the source.” He stepped closer. “My father’s old estate. The one he hasn’t set foot in since the day Olivia disappeared.”

The estate.

The place my mother was last seen.

I nodded, even as fear curled in my gut.

“Wait,” Dominic said, brushing his fingers down my arm. “Before we go…”

He hesitated, then reached into his jacket and pulled out a faded photograph. He handed it to me.

It was a picture of Olivia and Victor, younger, standing in a garden.

She looked radiant. He looked… in love.

I ran my thumb across the edge. “Where did you get this?”

“It was hidden in a false bottom of his desk. Along with more letters. Elena, they were planning to run away together.”

I looked up, heart aching. “And something stopped them.”

“Yes,” he said darkly. “And I think it was your father.”

Just then, the door burst open—Liam stood there, panting.

“They’re pulling back. Whoever they were, they didn’t want a firefight. My guess? They’re watching us. Waiting.”

Dominic nodded. “Good. Let them wait.”

He turned to me, his hand finding my waist. “We’re going to burn the lies down, Elena. All of them.”

I leaned into him, heart pounding with both fear and something far more dangerous—hope.

Because we were getting close now.

Too close.

And someone out there was terrified of the truth.

Later that night…

The Caldwell estate was a monolith of shadows and secrets.

Dominic’s black SUV pulled up to the iron gate, and it creaked open with an ominous groan. The place had been abandoned for years, left to rot behind layers of ivy and dust.

We stepped inside, the echo of our footsteps bouncing through the marble foyer.

Dominic led the way, stopping in front of a sealed office. “This was my mother’s room. No one’s opened it since she died.”

“And Olivia?” I asked.

“She was last seen here. The night she vanished.”

He took a key from around his neck and unlocked the door.

Inside, the air was thick with time. Dust coated everything. But on the wall, behind a sheer curtain, was a painting—half-covered, half-faded.

I walked to it, slowly pulling the fabric aside.

It was Olivia.

Painted in oil, soft strokes capturing her smile. The title beneath it?

“My Light in the Darkness – V.C.”

I turned to Dominic, breath stolen.

“You loved her,” I whispered. “He really loved her.”

But before he could respond, Liam’s voice echoed from the hallway.

“Guys. You need to see this.”

We followed him to a hidden alcove behind the bookshelf. Liam had pulled it open to reveal a spiral staircase.

Downstairs… a vault.

Inside, rows of files. Photos. Ledgers.

And a file labeled:

PROJECT AEGIS: SINCLAIR – CALDWELL STRATEGIC ALLIANCE.

Dominic reached for it, flipping it open.

And then he froze.

I peeked over his shoulder—and felt my knees go weak.

Inside the folder were two DNA reports.

One was Olivia Sinclair.

The other?

Victor Caldwell.

And between them…

A child. Female. Identity redacted.

I couldn’t breathe.

Dominic looked at me, voice barely above a whisper. “Elena… what if you’re not just a pawn?”

I stared at the page.

Because if that report was real…

Then I wasn’t just Olivia’s daughter.

I might be Victor Caldwell’s daughter too.