Chapter 4 - The Letter Thomas Kept

Vincent opened Michael’s final letter.

Son,

If Thomas gives you this, it means he finally chose courage over fear.

Thomas looked down.

Vincent continued.

I stayed away because Adrian found the one thing that could destroy you before you ever knew it existed.

Vincent stopped.

“What thing?”

Thomas answered:

“Your inheritance.”

Vincent stared.

“My inheritance?”

“Not money.”

“What?”

Thomas took a breath.

“Liability.”

Anna looked at him.

“You should have told him years ago.”

“I know.”

Vincent read on.

My father used Vincent’s name on companies before Vincent was old enough to understand them.

Adrian later moved illegal accounts through those companies.

If Vincent reappeared publicly as my son while I was alive, Adrian planned to hand the records to prosecutors and make it look like I had built everything for him.

Vincent’s face went still.

“I was a legal shield.”

Thomas nodded.

“From childhood.”

“How?”

“Trust structures.”

“Signatures.”

“Corporate proxies.”

Vincent looked disgusted.

“My grandfather used me.”

“Yes.”

“And Adrian kept using me.”

“Yes.”

Anna whispered:

“Michael spent years untangling it.”

Vincent looked at the death certificate.

“Did he finish?”

Thomas shook his head.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because someone found him.”

Silence.

Vincent stared.

Anna’s face changed.

“What?”

Thomas looked at her.

“You never knew?”

She stood.

“Knew what?”

Thomas swallowed.

“Michael didn’t die naturally.”

Anna stopped breathing.

Vincent looked between them.

“What?”

Thomas whispered:

“The heart attack was induced.”

Anna’s hand went to the table.

“No.”

Thomas nodded.

“I found the medical report five months ago.”

“The same time Rebecca learned about Anna.”

“Yes.”

Vincent’s eyes narrowed.

“Who had access to him?”

Anna answered automatically.

“Doctor.”

“Nurse.”

“Me.”

“Henry visited twice.”

Thomas looked at her.

“And Adrian.”

Anna stared.

“No.”

Vincent stood.

“My uncle visited my father before he died?”

Thomas nodded.

“Three days before.”

Anna shook her head.

“He used another name.”

“I didn’t know.”

Vincent’s expression became cold.

“What did he want?”

Thomas handed him another document.

A hotel receipt.

Portland.

Adrian Bellini.

Alias.

Same week.

Vincent stared.

“Was he there when Dad died?”

“No.”

“Then how did he do it?”

Thomas looked at the medical report.

“Digitalis.”

Anna whispered:

“His medication.”

Vincent looked at her.

“Who delivered it?”

Anna’s face drained.

“A courier.”

“When?”

“The day Adrian left.”

Silence.

Vincent folded the report.

Then:

“Where is Adrian now?”

Thomas looked toward the ferry.

“He left your engagement dinner before midnight.”

Henry entered from outside.

“I saw him.”

Vincent turned.

“Where?”

“At the harbor.”

“What was he doing?”

“Talking to someone on a private boat.”

Vincent’s jaw tightened.

“Who?”

Henry handed him a photograph from his phone.

Adrian.

Standing beside a woman.

Rebecca.

Vincent stared.

Thomas looked stunned.

“No.”

Vincent looked at him.

“Your daughter.”

Thomas shook his head.

“She didn’t tell me.”

Anna whispered:

“Maybe she followed him.”

Vincent stared at the image.

Rebecca had hidden Anna for five months.

Met her last week.

Kept Michael’s letter.

And now she had been seen with Adrian.

Vincent’s phone rang.

Rebecca.

He answered.

“Where are you?”

Her voice shook.

“Don’t go back to the estate.”

“Why?”

“Adrian knows you took the ferry.”

“How?”

Silence.

Vincent looked at the photograph.

“You told him.”

“No.”

“Then why were you at the harbor with him?”

Rebecca started crying.

“He found me.”

“What did he want?”

“The letter.”

“Did you give it to him?”

“No.”

Thomas looked at the envelope.

Rebecca continued.

“He said if you learn what your father discovered, people will die.”

Vincent’s face hardened.

“Who?”

“Anna.”

Anna stared.

Rebecca continued.

“And Captain Henry.”

Henry looked toward the water.

Vincent whispered:

“Why Henry?”

Rebecca answered:

“Because he has the original manifest.”

Henry’s expression changed.

Thomas stared.

Vincent looked at him.

“The one on my table last night?”

Henry shook his head.

“That was a copy.”

“Where is the original?”

The old captain looked toward the ferry.

“Hidden.”

“Where?”

Henry hesitated.

Vincent’s eyes narrowed.

“Captain.”

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Henry answered quietly.

“Inside the bell.”