Chapter 10 - THE NAME MY FATHER FEARED
We found the entrance beneath the wine cellar.
A hidden elevator descended farther than I thought possible.
One floor.
Two.
Three.
Then the numbers disappeared.
The elevator continued downward.
My hands tightened around the photograph.
For fifteen years, I had believed my parents were victims.
Now I wondered if they had been prisoners.
When the doors finally opened, a long concrete corridor stretched before us.
Emergency lights flickered overhead.
At the end stood a steel door.
Ryan entered a code.
The lock clicked.
The door opened.
And there they were.
My mother stood first.
Older.
Thinner.
Her hair completely gray.
But her eyes were unmistakable.
My eyes.
She covered her mouth.
“Maya…”
I couldn't move.
Then my father stepped from the shadows.
Older.
Scarred.
Alive.
For several seconds, we simply stared at one another.
Then he whispered:
“I knew he would come for you eventually.”
I started crying.
“You let me believe you were dead.”
“I had no choice.”
“You had fifteen years!”
My father lowered his head.
“I thought keeping you away from me was the only way to keep you alive.”
Daniel stepped forward.
“Who is he afraid of?”
My father looked at him.
Then at Ryan.
Finally, his eyes settled on me.
“The person who controls Logan.”
My blood ran cold.
“Who?”
My father walked toward a wall covered with photographs.
Businessmen.
Politicians.
Judges.
Bankers.
Executives.
People whose names appeared constantly in the news.
Then he stopped at one photograph.
A man in his sixties.
Silver hair.
Cold blue eyes.
A familiar smile.
I stared at the picture.
I knew him.
Everyone knew him.
He was one of the most powerful businessmen in America.
The chairman of the investment empire that had quietly financed Logan's rise.
My father whispered his name.
“Victor Vance.”
Logan's father.
Then my father added:
“Your fiancé didn't choose Rachel because he stopped loving you.”
“He chose her because Victor ordered him to.”
I stared at him.
“Why?”
My father's expression became grave.
“Because your bloodline gives you control of something Victor has spent twenty years trying to own.”
“What?”
My father reached into an old wooden box.
Inside was a single document.
He placed it in my hands.
I read the first line.
And suddenly I understood why Logan had needed my signature.
Why he needed me disfigured.
Why my father had disappeared.
And why my mother had been kept hidden.
The document wasn't an inheritance.
It was a controlling agreement.
And the beneficiary wasn't me.
It was my unborn child.
I looked up at my father.
“I don't have a child.”
He stared at me.
“You did.”
My heart stopped.
May you like
Then he whispered:
“Logan took your baby from you fifteen years ago.”
