The gunfire stopped.For three seconds, the warehouse fell silent.Then I heard footsteps outside.Whoever had shot Jonathan Black was waiting for me to make a mistake.I crouched behind the table, my gun raised, and looked at the man lying a few feet away.Jonathan’s eyes were open, but his chest barely moved.“Stay with me,” I whispered.I dragged him behind a stack of metal crates just as another bullet tore through the wooden table.The shooter wasn’t trying to scare me.He wanted everyone inside this warehouse dead.I pulled out my phone and called Noah.He answered immediately.“Adrian? What’s happening?”“I’m at the warehouse. Someone opened fire. Jonathan Black has been shot.”Silence.Then Noah asked, “Jonathan Black? The founder of Black Wolf Holdings?”“Yes.”“Adrian, you need to get out of there. I’m calling emergency services.”“No. Listen carefully. Find out everything you can about Jonathan Black, especially his connection to my grandfather. And I want the address of wh

I stared at the photograph until my eyes burned.My father stood behind my grandfather with a gun pressed against his head.Alexander Vale looked older than I remembered him. His silver hair had grown thin, his face was deeply lined, and a dark bruise marked his cheek.But his eyes were unmistakable.He was afraid.Not of death.Of something worse.Betrayal.“Get me a location,” I ordered.Noah was already working.“The photograph has no usable location data. The number that called you has been disconnected.”“Then trace the call through the network.”“I’m trying, but whoever made it used several layers of routing.”I turned away from the screen.My father was alive.My grandfather was alive.My mother might be alive.And every person I had ever trusted seemed connected to a secret I couldn’t understand.Three years ago, I had believed the worst thing my father could do was disown me.I had been wrong.He had allowed me to believe I was alone in the world while an entire conspiracy op

I stared at Marcus Kane’s photograph until the screen dimmed.The man who had destroyed my life was alive.Three years ago, Marcus had stood before a courtroom and testified that I had stolen forty million dollars from Vale International. He had looked me in the eyes while doing it. He had watched my father disown me, my fiancée turn away from me, and the world condemn me.Then, before he could reveal who had ordered the fraud, someone shot him.I had believed he was dead.Now Ethan was telling me that Marcus was the only person who knew who had created the Circle.My phone rang again.Ethan.I answered.“You have some explaining to do.”“Not over the phone.”“You expect me to meet you at Vale Tower after everything you’ve done?”“I haven’t done anything to you yet.”“That’s supposed to reassure me?”“No. It’s supposed to remind you that whoever transferred that money wants us to blame each other.”I glanced at the photograph.“Where did you get this picture?”“From someone who contac

For several seconds, I couldn’t move.My grandfather was alive.The man whose disappearance had sent me searching across continents. The man whose old recordings had guided me toward the truth. The man who had supposedly hidden my brother to protect him.He was standing beside Victor Vale.Smiling.And my mother was telling me that he had brought the man who destroyed our family back into the fold.I turned toward her.“Start talking.”She wiped her cheeks with trembling fingers.“Adrian—”“No more excuses. No more mysterious messages. No more telling me you’re protecting me while keeping me blind.” I pointed at the phone. “Why is Alexander working with Victor?”Mother swallowed.“Because your grandfather believes the Circle is the only way to save the family.”I stared at her.“Save the family? He created the circumstances that nearly killed me.”“He believes the family must survive, even if individual members have to be sacrificed.”“Then he can sacrifice himself.”Ethan stepped bet

The voice was identical to my mother’s.Same softness. Same measured rhythm. Even the slight tremor at the end of certain words was the same.But my mother stood less than ten feet away from me, trembling as though she had just seen a ghost.“Eleanor,” she whispered.I turned toward her.“Your sister?”She nodded, but she looked as if the movement had cost her everything.For twenty years, my family had told me Eleanor Voss was dead. My mother had supposedly died too. My grandfather had vanished, my father had buried secrets, and my uncle had built an empire on the ruins of our lives.Now the woman whose body had been buried under my mother’s name might still be alive.“How many people in this family are supposed to be dead?” I asked bitterly.Nobody answered.Sophia took the phone from Noah and examined the incoming call details.“The number is unregistered. The call was routed through a private exchange.”“Can you trace it?”“Not from the number alone. But the call lasted long enoug