บททั้งหมดของ THE BODYGUARD’S HIDDEN TRUTH : บทที่ 41 - บทที่ 50

For a long moment, neither of them moved. The flashlight beam sat between them on the concrete, throwing long shadows up the walls, and I found myself holding my breath along with everyone else, unwilling to break whatever fragile thing was happening in that space.“It’s really you,” Marcus said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “I buried you. I stood at your grave and I—” He stopped, his composure cracking entirely. “I was nineteen. I identified your body myself. They let me see you, at the funeral home, and I touched your hand and it was cold and I told myself that was what death felt like, and I believed it, because why would I ever doubt it.”“It wasn’t me you touched,” Samuel said quietly. “I don’t know who it was. I never asked. I told myself I couldn’t afford to know.” He took a small step forward, then stopped himself, some old caution or shame keeping him from closing the distance further without permission. “I am so sorry, Marcus. There isn’t a version of that sente

The war room, as Reyes started calling it, took shape in the mansion’s east study by midmorning — the ledger copies, the financial spreadsheets, the surveillance photographs all spread across the long table where my father used to conduct business he’d never once explained to me. Victor himself sat at the head of it now, uncharacteristically quiet, studying the shell company documents like a man finally seeing the shape of his own downfall laid out in black and white.“Nine days,” he said finally. “That’s not enough time to trace ownership through this many layers of shell entities. Not through legal channels, at least.” “Then we don’t use legal channels exclusively,” Reyes said. “We use what we have. The photographs of Richard. The financial pattern. If we can identify even one more person in that meeting series, we might be able to work backward to whoever’s actually financing all of it.”“I can find Richard,” Ethan said. “He came to this house once already. He’ll come again, if the

The building sat at the edge of an industrial block, unremarkable from the street, its windows painted black, a faded sign long since stripped of whatever name it once bore. Reyes had found a side entrance on the property records — a loading dock, rusted but unlocked, the padlock cut clean and recent.“Someone’s already been here,” Ethan said quietly, studying the fresh metal shavings on the ground. “Recently.” “Richard,” I said. “Or whoever took him.” Reyes drew her weapon, and Ethan did the same, motioning for me to stay close between them as we moved inside.The interior was nothing like the burned husk the county records suggested. A narrow hallway led into a single large room, dust-covered but intact, old filing cabinets lining the walls, a desk in the center still holding a rotary phone that looked untouched in decades. Whatever had burned fifteen years ago, it hadn’t been this.“Lillian.” Ethan’s voice had changed, sharp with something urgent. I followed his gaze to the far cor

Richard was moved to a private recovery room by evening, still weak but lucid enough to ask for me by name. I sat beside his bed while Ethan stood near the door, giving us what privacy the situation allowed.“You found the tape,” Richard said, his voice still rough. “We did.” “And the finger.” “Elias Whitfield,” I said. “Does that name mean anything to you? Anything at all, beyond the meeting?” Richard was quiet for a long moment, his eyes distant, working through decades of memory dulled by injury and exhaustion. “I heard it once,” he said finally. “Years after that first meeting. Daniel mentioned it, in passing, like it slipped out before he caught himself. I asked who Whitfield was. He told me to forget I’d heard it, and I did, because by then forgetting things had become the safest way to survive in that company.” He looked at me, something apologetic in his expression. “I wish I could give you more. I’ve spent thirty years not asking the questions that might have gotten me killed

Daniel was still staying in the small guest cottage on the mansion’s grounds, a temporary arrangement none of us had fully discussed but no one had objected to either. Ethan knocked hard enough that I heard it from several feet behind him, the sound sharp in the quiet night.Daniel opened the door in a worn shirt, blinking against the porch light, confusion quickly shifting to concern at the sight of Ethan’s face. “What happened. Is Lillian—” “Show me your watch,” Ethan said, cutting him off. Daniel frowned. “What?” “The watch, Dad. The one with your initials. Show it to me. Now.”Something wary crossed Daniel’s face, though he didn’t hesitate long before pulling back his sleeve. His wrist was bare. “I don’t have it anymore,” he said slowly. “I haven’t had it in years.” “Where is it.” “I don’t know.” Daniel’s voice had gone careful, watching Ethan’s expression like he was trying to read exactly how much trouble that answer was about to cause him. “It was taken from me, Ethan. Years ag