Chapter 11 - The Dinner Invitation
At 6:40 p.m., Adrian called.
His voice was calm.
“Dinner at eight.”
Damian almost laughed. “You kidnapped Beatrice and now you want dinner?”
“I didn’t kidnap anyone.”
“Where is she?”
“Safe for the moment.”
Evelyn stood across the room listening on speaker.
At the sound of Adrian’s voice, her hands began to shake.
Damian noticed.
Adrian continued. “Bring Evelyn.”
The room froze.
Damian’s voice dropped. “So you know.”
“I always knew.”
Evelyn shut her eyes.
Adrian sounded almost bored. “Your mother was expensive to keep hidden. But necessary.”
“Necessary for what?”
“Eight o’clock, Damian. The old lake house. Come alone with Evelyn, or Beatrice’s last secret dies with her.”
The line went dead.
Tessa immediately said, “You’re not taking her.”
Evelyn surprised them both.
“Yes, he is.”
Damian turned. “No.”
“You want the truth?” Evelyn said. “Then stop treating me like a patient.”
“You’ve been imprisoned for twenty-eight years.”
“And I survived twenty-eight years. Give me some credit.”
Damian looked at Tessa.
Tessa shrugged. “She has a point.”
They prepared a trap instead of obeying. Grant planted trackers. Tessa wore a medic earpiece. Two teams approached through the woods.
At 8:03 p.m., Damian entered the lake house with Evelyn beside him.
Adrian sat at the dining table.
Beatrice sat across from him, wrists untied but pale.
A pistol rested beside Adrian’s plate.
“Family,” Adrian said. “Finally.”
Evelyn stared at him.
“You kept me alive because you were afraid of an autopsy.”
Adrian smiled. “Still sharp.”
Damian stepped forward. “Let Beatrice go.”
“In a moment.”
Adrian poured wine.
“You’ve spent days searching for villains, Damian. You still think the story is simple.”
“It usually is when someone kidnaps old women.”
Adrian’s smile vanished.
“Ask Evelyn who designed the Rosewood trial.”
Damian looked at his mother.
She said nothing.
Adrian leaned back.
“Oh, she never told you?”
Evelyn’s face had gone white.
Tessa’s voice crackled softly in Damian’s earpiece from outside.
“Damian... what is he talking about?”
Adrian lifted his glass.
“Rosewood wasn’t your father’s idea.”
May you like
He pointed at Evelyn.
“It was hers.”
