The image below the message sends a powerful tremor through his chest. The man in the photo appears to be standing on the same dock, just a few hundred meters away from where he stands now, holding a silver anchor pendant that he recognizes so well.
"Miss Carter?" Daniel calls out, catching the drastic change in Olivia’s expression. "Is something wrong?"
Olivia quickly looks up, her eyes scanning the surroundings of St. Katharine’s Dock. The bustling port workers, tourists passing by, and rows of shimmering sailboats beneath the bright morning sun. But the figure in the black coat has vanished, as if blending into the sea breeze.
"Daniel, check this area now," Olivia whispers, her voice trembling with the emotional turmoil burning inside her. "Someone just took our photo from the west side."
Daniel narrows his eyes at the silver pendant photo. "This pendant belongs to Alex."
"He’s still alive, Daniel," Olivia says, clutching her phone tightly, her fingers turning pale. "He’s alive that night."
"We can’t jump to conclusions, Miss Carter," Daniel tries to stay rational, though his tone also betrays deep doubt. "This message could be a trap set by remnants of Julian or Victoria’s followers who are still out there."
"I don’t care," Olivia cuts him off firmly, wiping tears from the corner of her eye. "We’re going to Victoria Station now."
Victoria Station is packed with the hustle and bustle of thousands of London commuters. Announcements echo, announcing train departures amid the glass roof that lets in the midday sunlight.
Daniel leads the way with full caution, scanning every corner of the corridor, while two guards keep their distance five meters behind Olivia and Ethan. Ethan clings tightly to his small teddy bear, his big eyes watching his mother walk quickly, panting as he tries to keep up.
They arrive at the automated luggage locker area in the east sector of the station. Rows of gray metal doors stand rigid under flickering fluorescent lights.
Olivia walks along the row of numbers until her eyes lock on one end of the corridor: Locker 304.
Her heart pounds wildly, hammering inside her chest. Olivia reaches into her pocket, searching for the digital access code attached to the message link. Her hand trembling intensely, she enters six digits on the touch screen panel.
The steel lock mechanism clicks loudly. The door of Locker 304 creaks open slightly.
Daniel steps behind Olivia, pulling out a silenced pistol from his coat before fully opening the metal door. The narrow inside corridor looks calm, without any triggers or suspicious devices.
"Open that box first, Miss Carter," Daniel whispers, reaching out.
Olivia opens the first page of the diary. The bold, neat handwriting—so familiar—immediately catches her eye.
"That night, November 12th. I gave my key to Julian because he was too drunk to drive. I never knew this decision would break the life of an innocent woman. When I found my anchor pendant left on the bloodstained sheets that morning, I knew a terrible sin had occurred. If you’re reading this, Olivia, then I’ve fulfilled my part of this punishment."
Tears fall from Olivia’s eyes, soaking the dull pages of the diary. The writing belongs to Alexander from five years ago, proof that he has been tracking her and searching for the truth from day one.
"Look inside the envelope, Olivia," Daniel’s voice snaps her back to reality.
Olivia sets the diary aside and breaks the red wax seal on the thick leather envelope. Inside, there’s an international legal document stamped with gold, signed by the Swiss High Court, dated two days ago.
But it’s not the document’s title that stops Olivia’s breath. On the last page, there are two signature columns.
The first is signed by Alexander Rington.
And beneath the official seal, in the second column, is the name of a person who should have been dead twenty years ago according to the official family history:
Arthur Vance Rington.
(Founder of Rington Group & Alexander’s biological father).
"That’s impossible," Daniel stammers, snatching the document from Olivia’s hand. His face turns ghostly pale, eyes trembling as he scans the pages. "Arthur Rington was reported dead in a yacht accident in Greece in 2006!"
"If he’s still alive," Olivia whispers, her mind racing to piece together a much darker, more terrifying thread, "then who has been funding Julian and Eleanora all this time?"
Just as the question leaves her lips, all the neon lights in the locker corridor suddenly go out completely. Darkness swallows the area. Outside the corridor, the bustling station sounds fall silent.
"Guards! Secure your positions!" Daniel yells, pulling Olivia and Ethan into a corner behind the lockers.
But there’s no response from the two civilian guards behind them. Only the soft thud of a heavy body collapsing onto the marble floor.
An older man steps out from the shadows. He wears a costly gray coat, his neatly styled silver hair, and his left eye covered with a black patch—an exact mirror of Alexander’s face, but with a far more dominant and ruthless cold aura.
Arthur Vance Rington stands three meters in front of them.
"You have your mother’s eyes, Olivia," Arthur’s low voice echoes.
Daniel raises his gun to Arthur’s forehead. "Don’t move, Mr. Rington!"
Arthur doesn’t blink. Instead, he offers a thin, terrifying smile. "You’ve always been a loyal dog, Daniel. Just like your father served me thirty years ago."
"Why are you doing this?!" Olivia shouts, hiding Ethan behind her. "You faked your death! You let your children fight and kill each other! You made Eleanora and Richard rot in prison!"
Arthur chuckles softly, a cold laugh devoid of any warmth.
"Eleanora and Richard are just useful distraction pawns," Arthur replies flatly. "Julian is too weak and obsessed with personal revenge, while my favorite son, Alexander, is too contaminated by pity and love for you."
"Where is Alexander?!" Olivia screams, her chest heaving with rage. "Where’s that photo of him?!"
Arthur reaches into his coat pocket, pulling out a silver anchor pendant identical to the one in the bloodstained photo. He throws it onto the marble floor, causing the metal to clang loudly at Olivia’s feet.
"Alexander did his job very well on that yacht," Arthur says coldly. "He destroyed Julian’s illegal patent market evidence, just as I planned. As a reward, he paid for his family’s sins with his life at the Atlantic bottom."
Olivia feels all the oxygen leave her lungs. "You’re lying about the photo."
"The photo was taken by my men thirty minutes ago," Arthur cuts in coldly. "That message was sent from my server system to lure you here with the original asset transfer document stored in this locker."
Arthur raises his wooden cane, pointing directly at the document Daniel holds.
"The document you’re holding isn’t just an asset transfer," he continues. "It’s the key to the entire Rington family’s gold reserves stored in a secret vault in Geneva, a DNA sample of Alexander’s direct descendants, and a valid signature from his legal guardian."
Arthur glances at Ethan peeking from behind Olivia’s dress. His icy eyes sparkle with pure, insane fear.
"Ethan," Arthur whispers as he steps one line closer. "He’s not just Alexander’s nephew. He’s the final key to unlocking the true Rington empire."
"You will never touch my son!" Olivia screams, hugging Ethan tightly.
"Your choices are limited, Olivia," Arthur replies, waving his right hand.
From behind the pillars of the station, eight black tactical guards with no visible ID step forward, weapons aimed precisely at Daniel, Olivia, and Ethan. Red laser dots suddenly appear on their chests.
Hand over the kid and the documents, or I’ll turn this station into a mass grave today," Arthur orders coldly.
Daniel clenches his fists on his weapon, ready to sacrifice himself to protect Olivia and Ethan. Olivia closes her eyes tightly, hugging Ethan in a last embrace, prepared for the barrage of bullets.
But just before Arthur gives the command to shoot, a ringing sound from an old coin-operated phone on the corridor wall suddenly pierces the tense silence.
The old phone rings loudly, halting the mounting tension in the corridor.
The tactical guards freeze, their eyes shifting to the ringing black phone receiver.
Arthur squints his left eye, his arrogant face stiffening with disbelief. "Who activated this station’s analog phone line?"
The phone keeps ringing three more times before the speakerphone on the old phone automatically connects from afar.
Alexander Rington’s voice echoes.
Olivia gasps, tears streaming down her face. "Alex!"
"Alexander?!" Arthur exclaims, his tone losing its usual cold calm. "How can you be at the bottom of the Atlantic already?!"
"I am indeed at the bottom of the Atlantic," Alexander responds through the speakerphone, amidst the deafening sound of a giant tanker horn in the background. "But I’m not alone. Interpol, the Swiss federal lawyers, and all maritime security are surrounding your secret lab in Geneva."
"Secure the main man!" the commanding officer of Arthur’s guards yells in panic amid rising smoke.
Amid the white, blinding smoke of chaos, a massive steel door bursts open from outside the corridor. A tall man in a black coat rushes in, wielding a silenced tactical rifle.
He lowers his body, removing his tactical mask to reveal piercing silver eyes with a burn scar from sea water on his neck still red.
Alexander Rington stands before Olivia, giving a warm, faint smile amid the emergency lights.
"Sorry to keep you waiting so long at Victoria, Olivia," Alexander whispers, his voice husky and gentle.
But before Olivia can rush into his arms, a secondary explosion hits the main wall of the corridor. Arthur Vance Rington appears from behind a new cloud of smoke, holding a remote detonator with blinking yellow lights.
"If I can’t get that asset," Arthur screams, his face crazed with rage, "then no Rington family member leaves this station alive today!"