THE BILLIONAIRE WHO LOST EVERYTHING

THE MAN WHO SHOULD BE DEAD

I drove to Sophia’s house without calling again.

The entire journey, one sentence kept repeating in my head.

Your grandfather isn’t dead.

It couldn’t be true.

I had stood beside his coffin.

I had watched them lower it into the ground.

I remembered my father’s hand on my shoulder.

I remembered the funeral.

I remembered the black marble tombstone bearing his name.

ALEXANDER VALE.

My grandfather.

The founder of Vale International.

The man everyone said had died peacefully six years ago.

But now Sophia was telling me he was alive.

And someone had hacked my account to confirm it.

I reached Sophia’s house twenty minutes later.

The front door opened before I could knock.

Sophia stood there wearing a dark robe, her face pale.

“You came alone?”

“Yes.”

She looked behind me.

“Where’s Noah?”

“I didn’t tell him.”

“Good.”

I stepped inside.

She locked the door immediately.

“Start talking.”

Sophia swallowed.

“I wasn’t supposed to tell you this.”

“That stopped mattering three years ago.”

She looked at me.

“You want the truth?”

“I’ve wanted nothing else.”

She walked toward the living room.

On the table was an old brown envelope.

She picked it up and handed it to me.

“This came to me two years ago.”

I opened it.

Inside was a photograph.

My grandfather stood beside a black car.

He looked exactly as I remembered him.

Older.

Gray-haired.

Cold-eyed.

But alive.

My fingers tightened around the photograph.

“Where was this taken?”

“Geneva.”

“When?”

“Five years ago.”

I looked at her.

“One year after his supposed death.”

She nodded.

“Who sent it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because when I tried to investigate, someone broke into my office.”

I looked at the photograph again.

“Did they take anything?”

“No.”

“Then what did they do?”

“They left a message.”

“What message?”

Sophia’s eyes met mine.

Stop looking for Alexander Vale.

A chill moved through me.

“Who knew you were looking?”

“Only one person.”

“Who?”

“My father.”

I froze.

“Your father knew?”

“He told me to stop investigating.”

“Why?”

“He said some families bury secrets for a reason.”

I dropped the photograph onto the table.

“What does my grandfather have to do with my accident?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’re lying.”

Her eyes hardened.

“I’m not.”

“You’ve been investigating this for three years. You know more than you’re telling me.”

“I know pieces.”

“Then give me the pieces.”

Sophia walked toward a cabinet.

She opened a hidden compartment behind several books.

Then she pulled out a small metal box.

She placed it on the table.

“I found this in your grandfather’s old office.”

My eyes narrowed.

“How did you get into his office?”

“Your father gave me access.”

I stared at her.

“My father?”

“Yes.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because shortly before your accident, your grandfather sent him a letter.”

She opened the box.

Inside was a folded piece of paper.

I opened it.

The handwriting was unmistakable.

My grandfather’s handwriting.

I had seen it countless times growing up.

There were only six words.

Daniel, you chose the wrong enemy.

I read it again.

Then again.

“What does this mean?”

Sophia shook her head.

“I don’t know.”

A noise came from upstairs.

We both froze.

I looked toward the staircase.

Sophia whispered, “You heard that?”

I nodded.

I reached inside my jacket.

“Stay here.”

“Adrian—”

I raised a finger.

Someone was inside the house.

I moved silently toward the stairs.

One step.

Then another.

The hallway upstairs was dark.

I heard movement.

A door closed.

I rushed forward.

The bedroom door swung open.

Empty.

The window was open.

I ran toward it.

A shadow moved across the garden below.

“Stop!”

The figure ran.

I climbed through the window and jumped onto the balcony.

By the time I reached the garden, the intruder was already at the gate.

I chased him.

He disappeared around the corner.

I stopped.

Something was lying on the ground.

A black envelope.

I picked it up.

There was no name.

Only a silver wolf symbol.

My heart sank.

I opened it.

Inside was a photograph.

Not of my grandfather.

Not of Victor.

Not of Marcus.

It was a photograph of me.

Taken that night.

The night of my accident.

I turned it over.

There was writing on the back.

YOU SURVIVED ONCE.

Underneath it was another sentence.

YOU WON’T SURVIVE TWICE.

I stared at the photograph.

Then my phone rang.

Noah.

I answered.

“Adrian, where are you?”

“Sophia’s.”

His breathing was heavy.

“We have a problem.”

“What?”

“I found the owner of Black Wolf Holdings.”

I waited.

“Who?”

Noah lowered his voice.

“The company isn’t owned by your grandfather.”

My eyes narrowed.

“Then who owns it?”

There was a pause.

Then Noah said:

“Your father.”

I looked through the window at Sophia.

She was standing completely still.

She had heard him.

My grip tightened around the phone.

“My father?”

“Yes.”

I ended the call.

Sophia walked toward me.

“Adrian…”

I held up the photograph.

“How long have you known?”

She didn’t answer.

I stepped closer.

“How long?”

Her eyes filled with tears.

“Since before your accident.”

My blood ran cold.

“Then tell me the truth.”

She looked at me.

“Your father didn’t want you dead.”

“Then what did he want?”

Sophia’s voice broke.

“He wanted you to disappear.”

I stared at her.

“Why?”

She whispered the answer.

“Because he knew your grandfather was coming back.”

And somewhere outside the house, a car engine started.

Someone had been listening.

Someone who now knew I had discovered the truth.