CHAPTER 5: THE SECRET OF HIS BLOODLINE

The gun was pointed directly at Serena's chest.

For a moment, she couldn't breathe.

The stranger stood at the entrance of the underground vault, his gray eyes fixed on her with a disturbing mixture of recognition and resentment. Rainwater dripped from his coat onto the stone floor. He looked like a man who had spent ten years hiding from the world—and had finally decided to stop running.

Alexander stepped in front of Serena.

“Lower the gun.”

The stranger laughed.

“You still give orders as if your father's money makes you untouchable.”

“Who are you?”

“You already know who I am.”

“No,” Alexander answered coldly. “I know what you look like. I want to know why you're here.”

The man tilted his head.

“Still your father's son. Always demanding answers, never willing to ask the right questions.”

Alexander's jaw tightened.

“I won't ask again.”

“And what will you do if I refuse? Shoot me?” The stranger raised his eyebrows. “Go ahead. You have your father's temper, but you never had his courage.”

Serena clutched the letter against her chest.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

The man's attention shifted toward her.

“Your father called me Marcus Vale.”

Serena searched her memory. The name meant nothing to her.

“Why did my father die?”

“Because he discovered something he was never supposed to see.”

“What?”

Marcus glanced at the documents scattered inside the vault.

“Your father was an honest man in a world built by dishonest people. He believed that exposing corruption would bring justice. He believed the truth would protect his family.”

His expression hardened.

“He was wrong.”

Serena felt tears gathering in her eyes.

“You knew him?”

“I worked with him.”

“Then you know who killed him.”

Marcus didn't answer.

“Tell me!” she cried. “My mother has spent ten years terrified of every stranger who comes near our house. My brother grew up believing our father died in an accident. I deserve to know what happened!”

For the first time, something shifted in Marcus's expression.

Regret.

“I know what happened at eleven forty-seven,” he said quietly.

Alexander moved closer.

“Then tell us.”

Marcus looked at him.

“Your father ordered the meeting. Serena's father brought the evidence. I was supposed to make sure neither of them left with the original documents.”

Serena's stomach twisted.

“Make sure they didn't leave?”

Marcus's eyes returned to her.

“I was young, ambitious, and stupid enough to believe Richard Sterling could make me powerful. I didn't understand what kind of man he really was until it was too late.”

“Did you kill my father?”

“No.”

The answer came so quickly that Serena almost believed him.

“Then who did?”

Marcus's lips pressed into a thin line.

“Your father's death wasn't the only tragedy that night.”

He looked at Alexander.

“Ask him what he remembers about the crash.”

Alexander's expression darkened.

“I remember waking up in the hospital. I remember being told my father was dead.”

“Do you remember the blood on your hands?”

Silence.

Serena turned toward Alexander.

“What?”

Alexander's face had lost its color.

Marcus continued.

“You were found beside the road. Your clothes were covered in blood. Your father's car was burning less than fifty meters away.”

“No,” Alexander whispered.

“You were twenty-one. You had been drinking earlier that evening. You had argued with your father. And when the police questioned you, you couldn't remember the final hour before the crash.”

“Stop.”

“Your father made sure the investigation ended before anyone could discover what you had done.”

“STOP!”

Alexander's shout shook the small room.

Serena flinched.

She had never seen him like this—not even when he was furious with the board members who challenged him. This was different.

He looked like someone watching his entire life collapse in front of him.

Marcus lowered his weapon slightly.

“I didn't say you killed him, Alexander.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“I'm saying you might be the only person alive who knows what really happened at eleven forty-seven.”

Alexander stared at him.

“I don't remember.”

“Perhaps that's because someone made certain you wouldn't.”

Before anyone could speak again, a loud metallic bang echoed from above.

Marcus immediately raised his gun.

“Someone followed you.”

Alexander grabbed Serena's wrist.

“We need to leave.”

“No!” Serena pulled away. “Not until I get answers.”

“You won't get answers if you're dead!”

His voice was sharp, but she saw the fear in his eyes.

Not fear for himself.

Fear for her.

That frightened her more than the gun.

Marcus backed toward the staircase.

“Take the letter. Take whatever documents you can carry. But leave the photograph.”

“Why?” Serena demanded.

“Because the photograph is the reason they're coming.”

“Who are they?”

Marcus looked at her with something resembling pity.

“The people who own the Sterling empire.”

Then he disappeared up the staircase.

A gunshot rang out.

Serena screamed.

Alexander pulled her down behind a steel cabinet as another shot struck the wall above them.

“Stay down!” he ordered.

Footsteps thundered overhead.

A man's voice shouted, “Find them! Don't let either of them leave!”

Alexander grabbed the letter and shoved it into Serena's bag.

“Can you run?”

She nodded, though her legs felt weak.

He led her toward a narrow passage at the back of the vault. It was almost completely hidden behind a shelf of old documents.

“How do you know about this?” she whispered.

“My father built the estate. There are passages throughout the house.”

“You said you had never been down here.”

“I said I'd never been inside the vault.”

They reached a steep flight of stairs leading to a side entrance.

Alexander pushed open the door.

Cold rain swept into the passage.

They emerged behind the estate's old greenhouse, where weeds covered the stone path and the trees blocked the view from the main house.

Alexander pulled out his phone.

No signal.

“Damn it.”

Serena looked back toward the mansion.

“Marcus is still inside.”

“He knew the risks.”

“But he might be hurt!”

Alexander turned toward her.

“Serena, listen to me. We don't know whether Marcus is telling the truth. We don't know who those men are. And we don't know whether anyone else is waiting outside.”

“But—”

He took her face gently between his hands.

“Please. For once, let me get you somewhere safe before you try to save everyone else.”

The tenderness in his voice silenced her.

For one heartbeat, the rain and the danger seemed distant.

Then a pair of headlights appeared through the trees.

A black SUV.

It stopped at the far end of the service road.

The driver's door opened.

A familiar figure stepped out.

Damian Cross.

Alexander's oldest friend.

And the man who had warned him to keep Serena away from the Sterling archives.

“Get in!” Damian shouted.

Alexander hesitated.

“Now, Alexander!”

A gunshot cracked through the rain.

The rear window of the SUV shattered.

Damian ducked behind the vehicle.

Alexander grabbed Serena's hand and ran.

They reached the car as another shot struck the ground beside them.

Damian opened the passenger door.

“Move!”

Alexander pushed Serena inside, then climbed in beside her.

Damian slammed the door and accelerated away from the estate.

For several minutes, nobody spoke.

Serena looked back through the rear window, expecting to see the men following them.

But the road behind them was empty.

Finally, Alexander turned toward Damian.

“How did you know we were there?”

Damian's hands tightened around the steering wheel.

“Because someone called me.”

“Who?”

“I don't know. They used a voice changer.”

Alexander stared at him.

“And you came anyway?”

Damian gave him a sharp look.

“You're my friend. I wasn't going to let you die in that house.”

“Whoever called you knew where we were.”

“I know.”

“And they knew we were looking for the vault.”

“I know, Alexander!”

Damian's voice cracked with frustration.

“Do you think I don't understand what that means? Someone inside your company is working with the people who destroyed your family.”

Serena turned toward him.

“What people?”

Damian glanced at her through the rearview mirror.

Then he looked away.

“Not now.”

“No,” Serena said firmly. “I'm tired of everyone telling me when I can and cannot know the truth. My father is dead. Someone tried to kill us tonight. And all of you seem to know something about my family that you're refusing to tell me.”

Damian fell silent.

Alexander looked at her.

“She has a point.”

Damian let out a bitter laugh.

“Of course you'd say that now. You finally have someone you don't want to lose.”

Alexander's expression hardened.

“Watch your mouth.”

“Why? Because I said the truth?”

“Damian.”

“No, Alexander. You've spent ten years pretending your father's death was the worst thing that happened to you. But you know what the real problem is?”

Damian glanced at Serena again.

“You don't remember the night your father died. You don't remember the accident. And now, for the first time in ten years, someone is asking questions that might make you remember.”

The car fell silent.

Serena slowly turned toward Alexander.

“Is that why you never wanted to talk about that night?”

He stared out the window.

“I don't know what happened.”

“Then why are you afraid to remember?”

His eyes finally met hers.

“Because I don't know what I'll find.”

Damian took them to a private apartment he kept above an old office building in the financial district.

The place was modest compared with Alexander's penthouse, but it had reinforced doors, security cameras, and no visible connection to the Sterling company.

Once inside, Damian checked the locks and activated the alarm.

“Neither of you leaves until I know the building is secure.”

Alexander removed his wet jacket.

“I'm not one of your employees.”

“Tonight, you can be whatever you want. Just don't be an idiot.”

Serena sat on the edge of a leather sofa, her fingers still wrapped around the silver key.

Her entire life had changed in a matter of hours.

Her father hadn't simply died in an accident.

Alexander might have been at the scene.

His mother might not have died when he was a child.

And a man named Marcus Vale had been willing to risk his life to tell them the truth.

But there was one question she couldn't stop thinking about.

Why had her father left the key to her?

Alexander sat beside her, leaving enough space between them for her to move away if she wanted.

“Are you hurt?”

She shook her head.

“Are you sure?”

“I'm sure.”

He nodded, but his gaze remained on her face.

“I'm sorry.”

Serena looked at him.

“For what?”

“For bringing you into this.”

“You didn't bring me into it. Someone was already watching me.”

His expression darkened.

“That's what scares me.”

She studied him for a long moment.

“Alexander, when Marcus mentioned blood on your hands, you looked as if you believed him.”

He lowered his eyes.

“I remember flashes. A road. Glass breaking. Someone shouting my name.”

“Whose name?”

“I don't know.”

“Do you remember my father?”

He closed his eyes.

For several seconds, he said nothing.

Then he whispered, “I remember a woman crying.”

Serena's heart stopped.

“My mother?”

“I don't know.”

“Was she there?”

“I don't know, Serena!”

He rose abruptly and walked toward the window.

She watched his reflection in the glass.

The ruthless billionaire who could silence an entire boardroom was now struggling with memories he couldn't control.

And she didn't know whether to comfort him or run from him.

Then she remembered the photograph.

The woman holding the baby.

Alexander's mother.

“Your mother,” Serena said slowly. “The woman in the photograph. You said she died when you were young.”

Alexander turned.

“That is what I was told.”

“But Marcus said she was alive when they took her.”

“I heard him.”

“What if she didn't die?”

Alexander looked at her as though the thought had never crossed his mind.

“What if someone made you believe she was dead because she knew something about my father?”

He stared at the floor.

“My father never allowed anyone to speak about her. Not my grandparents. Not the household staff. Not even Victoria.”

“Victoria knew?”

“She was the woman who raised me after my mother supposedly died.”

“Did she ever tell you what happened?”

“No. Whenever I asked, she said my mother was sick and that talking about her only caused unnecessary pain.”

Serena reached for his hand.

He looked down at their joined fingers.

“I know you're afraid,” she whispered. “But you can't keep blaming yourself for something you don't remember.”

He gave a humorless smile.

“You don't know what I might have done.”

“Neither do you.”

For a moment, he looked as if he wanted to say something else.

Instead, he gently squeezed her hand.

“Get some rest. I'll stay here.”

“Alexander—”

“I won't leave you alone tonight.”

She wanted to ask whether he was protecting her because he cared about her or because he was trying to keep her from discovering the truth.

But exhaustion had begun to weigh on her.

She leaned back against the sofa and closed her eyes.

Alexander pulled a blanket over her.

Just before she drifted off, she felt his lips brush her forehead.

“Whatever happened that night,” he whispered, believing she was asleep, “I won't let them take you from me.”

Serena kept her eyes closed.

But his words stayed with her long after his footsteps faded toward the kitchen.

At 2:13 a.m., Serena woke to the sound of voices.

She sat up slowly.

Alexander and Damian were speaking in the next room.

“You should tell her,” Damian said.

“Not until I know it's true.”

“She deserves to know.”

“And if I'm wrong?”

“Then you'll apologize. But if you're right, every second you keep quiet puts her in danger.”

Serena rose and moved toward the half-open doorway.

Alexander stood with both hands braced against the kitchen counter. Damian leaned against the opposite wall, his face grim.

“What aren't you telling me?” Serena asked.

Both men turned.

Alexander's expression immediately changed.

“You should be sleeping.”

“I'm not asking what I should be doing. I'm asking what you're hiding.”

Damian looked at Alexander.

Then he made a decision.

“Ten years ago, after your father's death, Alexander received a package.”

Alexander's eyes flashed.

“Damian.”

“A package containing a photograph of Serena's father and a copy of the original accident report.”

Serena felt the room spin.

“You had a copy?”

Alexander looked at her.

“I didn't know it was connected to your father until recently.”

“Recently? How recently?”

He hesitated.

“Three weeks ago.”

Three weeks.

Before she had met him in the elevator.

Before he had paid for her mother's surgery.

Before he had kissed her.

“You knew my father might have been murdered before you met me?”

“I suspected something was wrong. I didn't know who your father was until I saw your name.”

Serena stared at him.

“So when you met me, you knew?”

“I recognized your surname. Alvarado. But I didn't know whether you were related to the man in the photograph.”

“And you didn't think to ask?”

“I was trying to confirm it.”

“By getting close to me?”

“No.” He stepped toward her. “Serena, I swear to you, I never planned to fall in love with you.”

The words hung between them.

Love.

He had said it without hesitation.

And somehow, that made the betrayal hurt even more.

“You fell in love with me,” she whispered, “while investigating my father's death?”

Alexander's face tightened.

“I fell in love with you before I understood what our families were connected to.”

“But you kept investigating without telling me.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I was afraid you'd disappear before I could protect you.”

Serena shook her head, tears gathering in her eyes.

“You don't get to decide what truths I'm strong enough to hear.”

“I know.”

“No, Alexander. You don't.” She wiped her cheek. “You keep saying you want to protect me, but you keep making decisions that take away my choices.”

He stood still.

For once, he had no answer.

Serena turned away from him.

“I need some time.”

“Serena—”

“Please.”

He stopped.

She returned to the living room and picked up her bag.

Her fingers brushed the letter from her father.

She pulled it out and unfolded it again, hoping there might be something she had missed.

At the bottom of the page, beneath the words she had already read, she noticed a faint impression in the paper.

As if something had once been written there and then erased.

She tilted the letter beneath the lamp.

The marks became visible.

One sentence.

If Alexander remembers eleven forty-seven, do not trust the man he becomes.

Serena's blood ran cold.

She read it again.

Then she looked toward the kitchen, where Alexander was still standing with his head bowed.

Was her father warning her about the man Alexander might become if his memories returned?

Or was he warning her that Alexander had already done something unforgivable?

Before she could decide, her phone vibrated.

An incoming video call.

The caller's name was displayed clearly.

MOM.

Serena answered immediately.

“Mom? What's wrong?”

For a moment, the screen showed only darkness.

Then her mother's face appeared.

She was sitting upright in her hospital bed, breathing heavily. Her eyes were wide with terror.

“Serena,” she whispered. “Listen to me carefully. You need to get away from Alexander.”

Serena's throat tightened.

“Mom, what are you talking about?”

Her mother shook her head frantically.

“I saw the news. I know you went to the Sterling estate. I know what you found.”

“How do you know?”

Her mother glanced over her shoulder.

Someone was standing outside her hospital room.

“Mom?”

Her mother's voice broke.

“Serena, the man you think is protecting you—”

The screen jolted.

A hand appeared, reaching for the phone.

Her mother screamed.

“HE WAS THERE WHEN YOUR FATHER DIED!”

The call ended.

Serena stood frozen, staring at the black screen.

Alexander rushed into the room.

“What happened?”

She looked at him, tears streaming down her face.

“My mother said you were there when my father died.”

Alexander didn't move.

Then his phone rang.

He answered automatically.

A man's voice came through, breathless and urgent.

“Mr. Sterling? This is the head nurse at St. Catherine's Hospital. Your mother—Serena's mother—has disappeared from her room.”

Alexander's face went white.

“Lock down the hospital,” he ordered. “Check every exit. Call the police.”

“There's something else, sir.”

“What?”

“We found a security guard unconscious outside her room.”

Alexander tightened his grip on the phone.

“Who took her?”

The nurse hesitated.

Then she whispered the words that shattered the last fragile hope Serena had left.

“The hospital cameras show that the person who escorted her out was someone using your personal security credentials.”

Alexander slowly lowered the phone.

Serena stared at him.

Neither spoke.

Because whoever had taken her mother had access to Alexander Sterling's private security system.

And that meant the person threatening Serena was closer to them than either of them had imagined.