Chapter 5- THE MAN WHO CAME BACK FROM THE DEAD

For several seconds, nobody breathed.

Nobody moved. The photograph remained illuminated on Adrian's phone screen.

A recent photograph.

Not ten years old.

Not altered.

Not a blurry security image.

Recent.

Real.

Alive.

Celine stared at the face she had spent a decade mourning.

The face she had memorized from fading photographs.

The face she'd searched for in crowds.

Dreamed about.

Cried over.

Buried.

Her father.

Sebastian Wolfe.

Alive.

"NO."

The word escaped before she realized she'd spoken. Her voice sounded hollow.

Broken.

"NO."

Adrian didn't answer.

Because he looked just as shocked.

Around them, the archive remained silent beneath the crimson red emergency lights.

The guards exchanged uneasy glances.

Nobody knew what to say.

What could they say?

The dead weren't supposed to come back.

Yet there he was.

Standing beside a black SUV.

Wearing a dark coat.

Older.

Thinner.

But unmistakably Sebastian Wolfe.

Celine snatched the phone from Adrian's hand.

Her fingers trembled.

She zoomed in.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Searching desperately for proof it wasn't him. A scar. A wrinkle.

A detail that would expose the image as fake. She found none.

Instead she noticed something else.

The timestamp.

Yesterday.

The photograph had been taken just the day before.

Her knees nearly gave out.

Ten years.

Ten years of grief.

Ten years of searching.

Ten years of being haunted by believing he had been murdered.

And all this time...

Her father might have been alive.

The possibility felt worse than death.

Much worse.

Because if her father had survived—

Why hadn't he come back?

Why hadn't he searched for her?

Why had he abandoned her?

"Celine."

She barely heard Adrian.

Her chest tightened painfully.

The room blurred.

The archive.

The guards.

The alarms.

Everything faded beneath one devastating question.

Why?

Why would her father disappear?

Why leave her behind?

Why let her believe he was dead?

The phone slipped from her fingers.

Adrian caught it before it hit the floor.

His hand closed around her wrist.

Steadying her.

Grounding her.

"Celine.”

This time she looked at him.

And immediately saw something unsettling.

He wasn't looking at the photograph.

He was looking at her.

As though he understood exactly what was happening inside her head.

Exactly how badly this revelation had shattered her.

For the first time since meeting Adrian Kane—

His expression softened.

Only slightly.

But enough.

Enough to make her hate it.

Enough to make her want to believe it.

The dangerous part was that she couldn't decide which feeling frightened her more.

Then a voice shattered the moment.

"Sir."

One of the guards approached.

Holding a tablet.

His face had gone pale.

"We found something."

Adrian turned immediately.

"What?"

The guard swallowed.

"The vault wasn't random."

"What do you mean?"

"We identified what was stolen."

The guard rotated the screen.

Adrian looked.

His expression hardened instantly.

"What was taken?" Celine demanded.

Neither man answered.

"Adrian."

His jaw tightened.

Then finally—

"A personnel file."

"A file on who?"

Silence.

And suddenly she knew she wasn't going to like the answer.

The guard spoke quietly.

"The file belonged to Adrian Kane."

The room went still.

Celine frowned.

"What?"

The guard looked uncomfortable.

"It was the only item stored inside the vault."

Her confusion deepened.

"One file?"

Adrian looked away.

"Apparently."

The answer sounded wrong.

Everyone knew it.

An underground vault protected by biometric locks.

Endless security.

Private archives.

And the only thing inside had been a file on Adrian?

IMPOSSIBLE.

The same thought clearly crossed Celine's mind.

Because suddenly another question emerged.

A far more dangerous one.

"What exactly is in your file?"

Adrian's eyes met hers.

The silence stretched.

Too long.

Way too long.

Then—

"I don't know."

The answer stunned her.

"What?"

"My father sealed it."

His voice had become colder.

"Dad created the archive."

A humorless smile touched his mouth.

"There were sections even I couldn't access."

Celine stared.

Nothing about tonight made sense anymore.

Victor Kane was dead.

Yet somehow his secrets continued controlling everyone.

Then another thought struck her.

The note.

She finally found your son.

Not your heir.

Not Adrian Kane.

Your son.

The wording suddenly felt deliberate.

Specific.

Almost as if whoever wrote it believed Adrian's identity itself was important.

A chill crept down her spine.

Then Adrian's phone vibrated again.

Everyone froze.

The screen lit up.

Unknown Number.

Another message.

This time it contained only an address.

No explanation.

No text.

Just coordinates.

Adrian immediately recognized it.

His expression darkened.

"NO."

The word escaped before he could stop it.

Celine noticed.

"What is it?"

He didn't answer.

"Adrian."

Still nothing.

The guards looked equally confused.

Then one of them whispered.

"Sir... that's impossible."

"What is?" Celine snapped.

The guard hesitated.

Adrian finally spoke.

His voice sounded distant.

"That address."

He stared at the screen.

"It belongs to a property my father owned."

"So?"

Adrian looked up.

His eyes had become unreadable.

"That property burned down ten years ago."

Silence.

Celine's pulse quickened.

Ten years.

Again.

Everything happening tonight connected to the night of the fire ten years ago.

Sebastian.

Victor Kane.

The ring.

The archive.

The mysterious woman.

All roads led back to the same night.

The same secret.

The same lie.

Adrian suddenly turned.

"We're leaving."

The guards straightened.

"Sir?"

"Prepare vehicles."

"What about security?"

"Now."

His tone left no room for argument.

The guards rushed away.

Within minutes the archive descended into organized chaos.

Celine followed Adrian toward the elevator.

"You seriously intend to go?"

"Yes."

"It could be a trap."

"It is a trap."

She blinked.

"Then why go?"

The elevator doors opened.

Adrian stepped inside.

His gaze never left hers.

"Because whoever's behind this wants me there."

The doors began closing.

"And tonight I'm done running from ghosts."

The rain had become violent.

Sheets of water battered the windshield as three black SUVs sped through the darkness.

Nobody spoke.

Not even the guards.

The atmosphere inside the vehicle felt suffocating.

Celine sat beside Adrian.

Close enough to feel the heat radiating from him.

Close enough to notice how tightly his hands were clenched.

He looked calm.

But she knew better now.

Something about tonight had rattled him.

Deeply.

Almost personally.

The question was why.

Forty minutes later the convoy turned onto an abandoned road.

Trees swallowed the landscape.

Darkness surrounded them.

Then Celine saw it.

Or what remained of it.

The burned estate.

Even after ten years, the ruins remained visible.

Blackened walls.

Collapsed beams.

Broken stone.

The skeletal remains of a forgotten mansion.

Lightning flashed overhead.

Illuminating the wreckage.

Something about the place felt wrong.

Like the ruins were watching them.

Waiting.

The vehicles stopped.

Everyone climbed out.

Rain immediately soaked through Celine's clothes.

Adrian stood motionless.

Staring at the mansion.

As though he'd seen a ghost.

Then he began walking.

Straight toward the ruins.

The guards followed.

Flashlights cut through darkness.

Thunder rolled overhead.

And suddenly—

One guard shouted.

"Sir!"

Everyone turned.

The beam of his flashlight had landed on something buried beneath mud and weeds.

A gravestone.

Half-hidden.

Weathered.

Forgotten.

Celine approached slowly.

Her stomach tightening.

The guard wiped away years of dirt.

Words emerged.

Names.

Dates.

An inscription.

And suddenly nobody was breathing anymore.

Because the gravestone didn't belong to Sebastian Wolfe.

Or Victor Kane.

It belonged to someone else.

Someone whose name made Adrian physically stagger backward.

Someone he clearly recognized.

Someone Celine had never heard of.

ELIAS KANE.

Beloved Son.

1998–2006.

Celine frowned.

Beloved son?

Her eyes widened.

She looked at Adrian.

Then at the grave.

Then back at Adrian.

Understanding crashed into her.

Victor Kane had another son.

A son nobody knew existed.

A son who supposedly died twenty years ago. The same year Adrian appeared in public for the first time.

The realization hit like a bomb.

No wonder the note had said—

She finally found your son.

The rain intensified.

Thunder exploded overhead.

And in that exact moment—

A child's voice echoed from somewhere inside the ruins.

Soft.

Impossible.

Terrifying.

"Adrian..."

Everyone froze.

Every guard reached for their weapon.

The voice came again.

Closer this time.

"Adrian..."

Then a light appeared inside the burned mansion.

One single light.

Glowing from an upstairs window that should not even exist anymore.

And slowly—

Very slowly—

A silhouette stepped into view behind the glass.

Watching them.

Waiting.

The lightning flashed.

And for one horrifying second—

The figure looked exactly like Adrian.