The Hidden heir’s revenge

CHAPTER 26 — THE MAN WHO KILLED HIS FATHER

Varek stared at the note in his hand.

The words were short, but they seemed to carry more weight than the explosion that had nearly brought the Blackstone estate down.

YOUR REAL FATHER IS ALREADY DEAD. ASK NAOMI WHO KILLED HIM.

He read it again.

Then a third time.

His real father was dead.

And Naomi knew who had killed him.

“Varek!”

Adrian grabbed his shoulder, pulling him away from the broken glass scattered across the floor.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed? The entire building could come down!”

Varek barely reacted.

“Where is Sebastian?”

Adrian looked around the room. The smoke was slowly clearing, revealing overturned furniture, broken windows, and a section of the ceiling that had collapsed.

“He was standing right there when the explosion happened.”

“And now he’s gone.”

“Yes.”

Varek crumpled the note in his fist.

“Find him.”

“With what? Half the security team is unconscious, the other half has disappeared, and we don’t even know who planted the explosives.”

“Then find the people responsible.”

Adrian gave him a hard look.

“You need to calm down.”

Varek turned sharply.

“Someone has taken Naomi. Someone may have taken Daniel. Sebastian has vanished. And I have just been told that my real father is dead. Tell me which part of that sounds like something I should be calm about.”

Adrian said nothing.

A faint groan came from beneath a fallen wooden beam.

Both men turned.

One of the estate guards was trapped underneath it. Adrian rushed over and pulled the beam aside while Varek helped the injured man sit up.

“Who attacked us?” Adrian demanded.

The guard struggled to breathe.

“I… I saw them.”

“Who?”

“Two men. They came through the east entrance. They were looking for the woman.”

“Which woman?” Varek asked.

“The woman who arrived earlier. The one who was asking questions about the old hospital records.”

Naomi.

Varek crouched in front of him.

“Where did they take her?”

The guard swallowed painfully.

“Underground passage.”

“Where does it lead?”

The guard looked toward the corridor.

“Old chapel.”

Varek stood immediately.

“Show me.”

Adrian caught his arm.

“Wait. We don’t know if it’s safe.”

“Then stay here.”

“Don’t be stupid. I’m coming with you.”

They hurried through the damaged corridor. The east side of the estate was almost completely dark. Emergency lights flashed red along the walls, and the smell of smoke grew stronger as they approached an old wooden door.

The guard pointed at it.

“Behind there.”

Varek tried the handle.

Locked.

Adrian stepped back and kicked the door twice. The second kick broke the lock.

They entered a narrow room filled with dusty furniture and old photographs. At the far end was a staircase leading downward.

Varek switched on his phone flashlight.

“Naomi!”

His voice travelled down the stairs.

No answer.

They descended carefully.

At the bottom, they found a narrow passage with several doors. One stood open. Inside was a small room containing a metal table, two chairs, and a broken lamp.

On the floor lay a woman’s handbag.

Varek recognized it immediately.

“Naomi’s.”

He picked it up.

Her identification card was still inside, along with her phone charger and a small notebook. But her phone was missing.

Adrian examined the floor.

“There’s blood here.”

Varek looked down.

A small red stain marked the edge of the table.

His jaw tightened.

“She was hurt.”

“Or someone else was.”

Varek looked at him.

Adrian pointed toward the wall.

There were scratches on the paint, as though someone had been dragged across the room.

A second door stood behind a cabinet. Varek pushed the cabinet aside and opened it.

Beyond it was another passage.

At the end, they found a security door with a keypad.

Adrian studied it.

“This place is older than the main estate. It might connect to the underground garage.”

Varek looked at the keypad.

“Can you open it?”

“Give me a minute.”

Adrian removed a small device from his pocket and connected it to the panel.

While he worked, Varek examined the walls.

Something had been carved into the stone.

Four names.

VAREK.

ADRIAN.

MARCUS.

NAOMI.

Underneath them was a fifth name, almost completely scratched away.

Varek ran his fingers over the damaged letters.

He could make out only the first few.

DAN…

“Adrian.”

His companion looked up.

“Look at this.”

Adrian walked over and stared at the names.

“What is this?”

“That’s what I want to know.”

Adrian touched his own name.

“Why would they put our names here?”

Varek pointed at the scratched-out one.

“Because someone wanted it forgotten.”

Before Adrian could answer, the keypad beeped.

The security door opened.

They stepped through and found themselves inside an underground garage.

A black vehicle was parked near the exit. Its engine was still warm.

Adrian approached it.

“Someone left in a hurry.”

Varek opened the driver’s door.

There was no key.

But something lay on the passenger seat.

A photograph.

He picked it up.

It showed a younger man standing beside a hospital bed. The man looked about thirty, with dark hair and a familiar expression.

Varek recognized him.

It was Jonathan Thorne.

But the photograph had something strange written on the back.

HE DID NOT DIE IN THE FIRE.

Varek stared at the words.

“Adrian, look.”

Adrian took the photograph.

“Who gave you this?”

“It was inside the car.”

Adrian turned it over again.

“Jonathan was declared dead years ago.”

“Apparently, so were half the people in this family.”

A sudden ringing interrupted them.

It came from Varek’s pocket.

He pulled out his phone.

Unknown number.

He answered immediately.

“Where is Naomi?”

There was a moment of silence.

Then a familiar voice spoke.

“You’re asking the wrong question.”

Varek froze.

“Sebastian.”

“Listen carefully. You don’t have much time.”

“Where are you?”

“Forget about me. You need to find the original hospital archive.”

“I’ve already seen the records.”

“No. You’ve seen copies. The original archive is somewhere else.”

“Where?”

“Under the old medical centre. Room seventeen.”

Varek glanced at Adrian.

“Why should I trust you?”

Sebastian gave a tired laugh.

“You shouldn’t. Not anymore.”

“Then tell me why you helped me.”

“Because I made a mistake twenty-nine years ago.”

“What mistake?”

“I chose the wrong child to save.”

Varek’s grip tightened around the phone.

“What are you talking about?”

Before Sebastian could answer, a loud sound came through the call.

A struggle.

Then a muffled voice.

“Give me the phone!”

Sebastian spoke quickly.

“Varek, listen. Your father was not killed because of the inheritance. He was killed because he discovered what happened to the four children.”

“Who killed him?”

Sebastian hesitated.

Then he whispered three words.

“Your mother did.”

The call disconnected.

For several seconds, Varek stood motionless.

Adrian stared at him.

“What did he say?”

Varek lowered the phone.

“He said my mother killed my father.”

Adrian frowned.

“Which mother?”

That was the problem.

There were too many women claiming that title.

Helena.

Mara.

Eleanor.

And perhaps someone whose name had never appeared in the records.

Varek looked at the photograph again.

“Room seventeen. Old medical centre.”

Adrian nodded.

“We should go.”

“First, we need to find out if Daniel is safe.”

Adrian immediately pulled out his phone and called his security contact.

The first call went unanswered.

He tried again.

Nothing.

A third call finally connected.

“Sir?”

“Where is my son?”

There was a pause.

“He’s safe, sir.”

Adrian closed his eyes briefly.

“Where?”

“At the residence. Two guards are with him.”

“Put him on the phone.”

“Sir, he’s sleeping.”

“I don’t care. Wake him up.”

Another pause.

Then a small voice came through.

“Daddy?”

Adrian’s expression softened.

“Daniel. Are you okay?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Are you alone?”

“No. Uncle is here.”

Adrian’s face changed.

“Which uncle?”

“The one who brought me chocolate.”

Adrian looked at Varek.

“Daniel, listen to me. Don’t go anywhere with anyone. Do you understand?”

“Okay, Daddy.”

“Is the uncle still there?”

A faint noise came through the phone.

Then Daniel whispered.

“Daddy, he said you should stop looking for the dead man.”

Adrian went still.

“What man?”

“The man in the picture.”

The call suddenly ended.

Adrian immediately dialled back.

The number was switched off.

“Daniel!” he shouted at the dead phone.

Varek grabbed his arm.

“What happened?”

Adrian looked at him with an expression Varek had never seen before.

“Someone is with my son.”

“We’re going there.”

“No. You go to the medical centre. I’ll get Daniel.”

“Adrian—”

“My son is in danger. I’m not leaving him with strangers again.”

Varek understood.

He handed Adrian the photograph.

“Take this. Show it to whoever is guarding him. If you see Sebastian, don’t trust him until you know why he disappeared.”

Adrian nodded and hurried toward the exit.

Varek watched him leave before returning his attention to the photograph.

Jonathan Thorne.

The man who had supposedly died decades ago.

The man who might have been his father.

And the man whose death had been blamed on a woman who might have given birth to him.

Varek slipped the photograph into his jacket.

Then he noticed something else.

A small mark in the lower corner.

A hospital stamp.

ST. AGNES MEDICAL CENTRE — ROOM 17.

He stared at it.

The same room Sebastian had mentioned.

It was no coincidence.

Someone wanted him there.

And whoever had taken Naomi might be waiting.

⸻

The old St. Agnes Medical Centre had been abandoned for years.

Its windows were broken, its walls covered in dust, and weeds had grown through the cracks in the entrance steps.

Varek parked outside and checked his weapon.

He had called Evelyn Cross before arriving, but she hadn’t answered.

That worried him.

He entered through a side door.

The corridor smelled of damp walls and old medicine. His footsteps echoed as he moved past abandoned examination rooms.

Room seventeen was at the end.

The door was unlocked.

Inside, there was a metal cabinet, an old desk, and a hospital bed covered in a dirty white sheet.

Varek approached the desk.

A small black box sat on it.

His name was written on the lid.

He opened it.

Inside were four hospital bracelets, a memory card, and a folded document.

The bracelets carried four different names.

VAREK VALE.

ADRIAN THORNE.

MARCUS BLACKSTONE.

NAOMI CROSS.

Varek picked up the fourth bracelet.

Naomi had been born in the same hospital.

But the date printed on it was different from the date in the official records.

He unfolded the document.

It was a birth report.

Four children had been delivered that night.

Three boys and one girl.

The names of the mothers had been listed separately.

Helena Vale.

Grace Cross.

Mara Mercer.

And one name had been covered with black ink.

At the bottom of the report was a handwritten note.

ONE CHILD WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO SURVIVE.

Varek felt his stomach tighten.

He inserted the memory card into his phone using an adapter he carried.

A video appeared.

It was an old hospital recording.

The image was unclear, but the date was visible.

Twenty-nine years earlier.

A woman stood beside a hospital bed, holding a newborn child.

Varek moved closer to the screen.

The woman’s face was partly hidden by the camera angle.

Then she turned.

He stopped breathing.

It was Helena.

A second woman entered the room.

Mara Mercer.

They exchanged a few words, but the audio was weak.

Then a man walked into the frame.

Varek recognized his face from the photograph.

Jonathan Thorne.

He approached the bed and looked down at the child.

Helena began crying.

Jonathan said something that made her cover her mouth.

The camera shifted.

For a few seconds, the newborn’s face was visible.

Then Jonathan picked up the baby and handed him to another person.

A woman.

Varek leaned closer.

He knew that face.

He had seen it many times.

It was Eleanor.

The woman who raised him.

The video ended.

Varek sat down slowly.

Eleanor had been at the hospital.

Helena had been there.

Mara had been there.

Jonathan had been there.

All of them had lied.

But the final frame showed something even worse.

Before the video ended, Eleanor turned toward the camera.

She held up a small card.

Four words were written on it.

VAREK IS NOT THE CHILD.

A noise came from behind him.

Varek spun around, raising his weapon.

A woman stood in the doorway.

Her clothes were dirty, and one side of her face was bruised.

But she was alive.

“Naomi.”

She lifted one trembling hand.

“Don’t move.”

Varek lowered his weapon slightly.

“Where have you been?”

Naomi glanced over her shoulder.

“They’re coming.”

“Who?”

She stepped inside and locked the door.

“Your family.”

Varek approached her.

“Sebastian told me my mother killed my father.”

Naomi’s eyes filled with fear.

“Then Sebastian has already told you too much.”

“Who killed my father, Naomi?”

She looked at the memory card in his hand.

Then she whispered:

“Your father wasn’t Jonathan Thorne.”

Varek’s face hardened.

“Who was he?”

Naomi took a shaky breath.

“His name was—”

A gunshot shattered the glass window.

Naomi screamed and fell to the floor.

Varek threw himself behind the desk, firing toward the window.

Another shot struck the wall.

He crawled toward Naomi.

“Naomi!”

She was clutching her side.

Blood spread beneath her hand.

Varek pulled her behind the desk.

“Stay with me.”

Naomi grabbed his wrist.

“Listen to me. The man who killed your father is not the person you think.”

“Tell me who he is.”

Her eyes moved toward the door.

Someone was trying to unlock it from outside.

Naomi looked back at Varek.

Then she whispered the words that made his blood run cold.

“Your father was Adrian’s father too.”

Varek stared at her.

“That’s impossible.”

Naomi shook her head.

“No. The DNA report was changed. Adrian and you share the same biological father.”

The door handle turned.

Naomi squeezed his hand.

“And Varek… the person who ordered his murder is standing outside that door.”

A voice came from the other side.

“Open the door, son.”

Varek recognized it immediately.

It was Richard Thorne.

But Richard had been shot.

And the last time Varek saw him, he was barely alive.

The voice came again.

“Varek, open the door. It’s time you met your real father.”