Richard Calloway smiled.
It was the same smile Ethan remembered from childhood.
The same controlled curve of the lips.
The same calm expression that had appeared whenever Ethan brought home a perfect report card, won a business competition, or did something that earned his father’s approval.
Except now, standing beneath Bellmont Chapel with a dead woman alive beside him, that smile looked different.
It looked like a warning.
Ethan couldn’t move.
“Richard.”
His father’s eyes remained fixed on him.
“It’s been a long time.”
Ethan stared at the man who had supposedly been dying.
“You’re alive.”
Richard chuckled.
“Clearly.”
“You’re not sick.”
“I never said I was.”
“You let everyone believe you were dying.”
“I allowed people to believe what they wanted.”
Ethan’s hands curled into fists.
“You lied to me.”
Richard’s smile faded.
“I protected you.”
“You stole my identity.”
“I gave you one.”
“You lied about my mother.”
“I protected her memory.”
“You framed Gabriel.”
Richard’s expression remained strangely calm.
“Gabriel framed himself.”
Ethan took a step forward.
“Don’t.”
Richard raised an eyebrow.
“Don’t what?”
“Talk to me like I’m still your obedient son.”
For the first time, something cold entered Richard’s eyes.
“Then perhaps you should stop behaving like a foolish child.”
Clara moved beside Ethan.
“That’s enough.”
Richard looked at her.
His gaze traveled slowly from her face to her hands, then back to her eyes.
“Clara Hart.”
She felt a chill.
“You know me.”
“I’ve known about you for years.”
Ethan turned sharply.
“How?”
Richard smiled.
“Because you were always terrible at keeping secrets.”
Clara’s stomach tightened.
“What happened seven years ago?”
Richard didn’t answer.
Ethan stepped closer.
“You separated us.”
Richard looked at Clara.
“She would have destroyed you.”
“She saved me.”
“She made you weak.”
Clara’s expression hardened.
“No.
Your fear made him weak.”
Richard laughed softly.
“There she is.”
Ethan looked at him.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I finally understand why you chose her.”
Richard glanced toward Evelyn.
“Your mother would have liked her.”
Ethan’s face changed.
“Don’t talk about my mother.”
Richard’s expression softened.
“You should hear what really happened.”
“You killed her.”
Richard said nothing.
That silence was answer enough.
Evelyn suddenly stepped forward.
“Don’t listen to him.”
Richard looked at her.
“You always were the emotional one.”
Evelyn’s eyes filled with anger.
“And you always were a monster.”
Richard smiled.
“Yet you’re alive because of me.”
“No.”
Evelyn’s voice trembled.
“I’m alive because you failed.”
Richard’s smile disappeared.
The room became colder.
Clara looked between them.
“What happened?”
Evelyn turned toward her.
“My mother discovered Richard’s accounts.”
Richard interrupted.
“She discovered something she didn’t understand.”
“She discovered people were disappearing.”
Richard’s expression remained unreadable.
“She discovered that powerful men have enemies.”
Ethan stepped forward.
“Did you kill them?”
Richard looked at his son.
“Yes.”
The answer was so simple that Ethan almost didn’t understand it.
Richard continued.
“Some deserved it.”
Clara felt sick.
“And Margaret?”
Richard looked away.
“Your mother made a choice.”
Ethan’s voice cracked.
“You killed her.”
“I gave her a chance.”
“A chance to do what?”
“To cooperate.”
“And when she refused?”
Richard’s eyes returned to him.
“I made another choice.”
Ethan lunged.
Clara caught his arm.
Richard didn’t move.
“Go ahead.”
Ethan stared at him.
Richard smiled.
“Hit me.”
Ethan’s breathing became heavy.
“You want me angry.”
“I want you to understand something.”
Richard looked around the underground chamber.
“You’ve spent your entire life believing I was the villain.”
“You are.”
“No.”
Richard pointed toward the documents.
“I am the man who survived.”
Ethan shook his head.
“You destroyed everyone around you.”
“And yet you’re alive.”
Richard stepped closer.
“I kept you alive.”
“You kidnapped me.”
“I rescued you.”
“From what?”
Richard’s voice became quieter.
“From your father.”
Ethan froze.
Richard looked toward Evelyn.
“Tell him.”
Evelyn shook her head.
“No.”
Richard smiled.
“Then I will.”
He looked at Ethan.
“Gabriel Shaw wasn’t your father.”
Silence.
Clara’s eyes widened.
Ethan’s voice was barely audible.
“We have a DNA test.”
Richard laughed.
“A manipulated DNA test.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Richard reached inside his coat.
He removed a thin folder.
Then threw it onto the table.
Ethan opened it.
Another DNA report.
This one contained two names.
Gabriel Shaw.
Nathaniel James Vale.
But beneath the results was a handwritten note.
Sample contamination confirmed.
Ethan’s stomach dropped.
Richard watched him.
“Gabriel wanted you to believe he was your father.”
“Why?”
“To manipulate you.”
Evelyn shook her head.
“That’s not true.”
Richard turned toward her.
“You’ve been locked beneath this estate for seven years.”
“And you expect anyone to believe you?”
“I expect my son to.”
Ethan looked at Evelyn.
“Then tell me.”
She stared at him.
“What?”
“Who is my father?”
Evelyn’s eyes filled with tears.
“I don’t know.”
Ethan’s face hardened.
“What?”
“I was six.”
She wiped her cheek.
“I remember Mother being afraid.”
“Of Richard?”
“Of everyone.”
Evelyn looked toward Richard.
“But there was another man.”
“Who?”
“I never saw his face.”
Richard laughed.
“You see?”
Ethan turned toward him.
“What are you hiding?”
Richard didn’t answer.
Clara noticed something.
A photograph lying partially beneath the folder.
She pulled it free.
Her breath caught.
It showed Margaret.
Gabriel.
Richard.
And a fourth man.
His face had been scratched away.
But beneath the photograph was a date.
October 12, 1992.
Two days before Ethan’s birth.
Clara looked at Richard.
“Who is this?”
Richard’s expression changed.
Only slightly.
But Clara saw it.
Fear.
Real fear.
“Give me that.”
She stepped backward.
“No.”
Richard moved toward her.
Ethan stepped between them.
“Don’t touch her.”
Richard stopped.
Then smiled.
“You still protect her.”
“Always.”
Richard looked at him for several seconds.
Then said quietly:
“That’s exactly why she will die.”
The words hung in the air. This chapter was copied from g.com without permission.
Clara felt Ethan tense.
Richard continued.
“The moment you found Room Seven, her fate was sealed.”
Ethan’s voice became deadly calm.
“Who is going to kill her?”
Richard didn’t answer.
Instead, he looked toward the ceiling.
“You’ve been watched since the day you returned to Bellmont.”
Clara’s heart began racing.
“By whom?”
Richard smiled.
“Everyone.”
A sound came from the corridor.
Footsteps.
Several people.
Evelyn turned pale.
“They found us.”
Richard looked at her.
“No.”
He smiled.
“They were already here.”
The chapel doors above slammed shut.
Then the lights in the underground chamber went out.
Again.
Darkness.
Ethan grabbed Clara.
“Stay close.”
Gunfire erupted somewhere above them.
Evelyn screamed.
Richard shouted something.
Then the emergency lights flickered on.
Ethan turned.
Richard was gone.
So was Evelyn.
“Evelyn!”
No answer.
Clara grabbed Ethan’s arm.
“She’s gone.”
He looked around.
The chamber was empty.
Except for the documents.
And the photograph.
Ethan picked it up.
His eyes narrowed.
Something was written on the back.
He turned it over.
Three words.
HE IS WATCHING.
Clara stared.
“Who?”
Ethan looked at the scratched-out face.
“I don’t know.”
A phone began ringing.
They both froze.
It was coming from inside the wall.
Clara looked toward the sound.
“That’s impossible.”
Ethan followed it.
Behind a loose stone was an old telephone.
It was ringing.
He pulled the stone away.
The phone continued.
He picked it up.
“Hello?”
Static.
Then a voice.
A man’s voice.
Older.
Distorted.
“Ethan.”
He froze.
“Who is this?”
A pause.
Then:
“You need to stop trusting everyone.”
Ethan’s eyes narrowed.
“Richard?”
“No.”
The voice laughed softly.
“Richard is the least of your problems.”
Clara leaned closer.
“Who are you?”
The voice answered:
“Ask your mother.”
“She died.”
“No.”
Clara’s heart stopped.
“What?”
The voice became quieter.
“She didn’t die when you think she did.”
Ethan’s hand tightened around the receiver.
“Where is she?”
Silence.
Then:
“Find the woman beneath the house.”
Ethan frowned.
“What woman?”
The line went dead.
Clara looked at him.
“What did he mean?”
Ethan slowly lowered the phone.
“I don’t know.”
Then he noticed something beneath it.
A small metal plate.
Engraved into it was a single word:
MARGARET.
Clara’s blood ran cold.
“Ethan…”
He looked at her.
“The woman beneath the house…”
She swallowed.
“…might be your mother.”
Ethan stared at the underground chamber.
And for the first time since the night their lives had fallen apart seven years ago, he felt something more frightening than anger.
Hope.
Because if Margaret was alive— then every lie they had been told was about to collapse.
And somewhere beneath Bellmont, someone had been waiting twenty-seven years for Ethan to come home.