Chapter 5: The Woman in the Recording
The message remained on Julian’s phone screen.
Five words.
Five words that changed the air inside the penthouse.
*They found her.*
I stared at him.
“Found who?””
Julian didn’t answer.
That scared me.
Because people who don’t know the answer look confused.
People who do know the answer look afraid.
Julian Cross looked afraid.
I had seen him handle angry executives.
I had seen him dismiss reporters.
I had seen him walk through rooms full of powerful people like he owned the air around him.
But this was different.
This wasn’t a businessman facing a problem.
This was a man remembering something he had spent years trying to forget.
Victor took the phone from his hand.
His eyes scanned the messages.
Then the photo.
Then the timestamp.
His expression changed.
“She was here.””
I frowned.
“What?””
Victor looked at me.
“Whoever sent this was close.””
A cold feeling moved through me.
“Close to where?””
Nobody answered.
I looked around the penthouse.
The giant windows.
The empty rooms.
The cameras.
The security system.
My stomach tightened.
“You mean someone was inside?””
Julian stepped toward me.
“No.””
“That’s not convincing.””
“They weren’t inside.””
“Then how did they take the picture?””
Silence.
That was all I needed.
I laughed once.
A small, humorless sound.
“Right.””
I picked up my cleaning cart.
“I’m leaving.””
Julian moved immediately.
“Abby.””
“No.””
My voice was sharper than I intended.
But I couldn’t stop.
“I came here to clean a penthouse. I found money. I found out my dead mother had secrets.
I found out my father apparently had a secret life. And now someone is sending me pictures of myself?””
I shook my head.
“This is too much.””
Julian looked at me.
“I understand.””
“No, you don’t.””
The words came out quickly.
“You live in a world where people like you have security teams and lawyers and private investigators.””
I pointed toward the window.
“You can disappear behind that glass.””
Then I pointed at myself.
“I go home to an apartment with a broken heater.””
My voice cracked.
“I don’t have protection.””
Something changed in Julian’s face.
Not offense.
Understanding.
“You’re right.””
I stopped.
I didn’t expect that.
He continued.
“You don’t have protection.””
A pause.
“So I’m going to make sure you do.””
I shook my head.
“I don’t want your help.””
“I know.””
“Then why are you still offering?””
“Because your mother asked me to.””
That hurt.
More than I wanted it to.
Because my mother was gone.
And somehow, this stranger knew a version of her I never got to see.
The version who trusted him.
The version who left instructions.
The version who knew something was coming.
I looked away.
“I need to see my father.””
Julian nodded.
“Of course.””
“I need answers from him.””
Another pause.
“And if he doesn’t have them?””
I looked at him.
“Then I’ll ask harder.””
For the first time, Victor almost smiled.
“She really is your daughter.””
I turned toward him.
“What?””
Victor looked at the photograph on the table.
“Your mother used to say that exact thing.””
“What thing?””
“That you were stubborn enough to survive anything.””
My throat tightened.
I hated how much I wanted to hear stories about her.
Even from strangers.
Especially from strangers.
Because strangers still had pieces of her.
Pieces I had lost.
Julian walked toward the door.
“I’ll drive you.””
“No.””
“Abby.””
“No private car.””
His expression softened.
“Why?””
“Because I don’t want to arrive at the hospital looking like I stepped out of your world.””
Julian looked at me for a moment.
Then nodded.
“Okay.””
Victor watched him.
“You’re letting her walk away?””
Julian looked back.
“I’m not letting her do anything.””
The answer was calm.
“She gets to choose.””
That surprised me.
Maybe because I had expected control.
Instead, he gave me something else.
A choice.
The elevator ride down was silent.
For once, I didn’t mind.
My mind was too full.
My father.
My mother.
Julian.
Victor.
A recording.
A hidden truth.
When the elevator doors opened into the lobby, Marcus looked up.
His expression immediately changed.
“You okay, Abby?””
I forced a smile.
“Yeah.””
It was automatic.
A lie I had perfected.
Julian noticed.
“You don’t have to say that.””
I looked at him.
“What?””
“You don’t have to tell everyone you’re okay.””
The words were simple.
But they hit harder than they should have.
Because I had been saying those words for years.
To Ethan.
To my father.
To myself.
I’m okay.
We’ll figure it out.
Everything is fine.
Sometimes a person repeats a lie so often they forget it’s a lie.
Outside, Julian’s driver was waiting.
I stopped.
“No.””
Julian looked at me.
“Abby.””
“I said no private car.””
He studied me.
Then he walked past the driver.
“Fine.””
He grabbed his own keys.
“I’ll drive.””
I blinked.
“You?””
“Yes.””
“You know how?””
A small smile appeared.
“Surprisingly, yes.””
It was the first time I saw him almost look normal.
Almost.
Twenty minutes later, we were sitting in traffic.
Julian drove.
No driver.
No assistant.
No security team.
Just him.
And me.
The silence was uncomfortable.
Not because it was awkward.
Because there was too much we weren’t saying.
Finally, I asked:
“Why did you keep my mother’s letter?””
His hands tightened slightly on the steering wheel.
“Because she trusted me with it.””
“That’s not enough.””
He glanced at me.
“What do you mean?””
“I mean why you?””
The question stayed between us.
“Why did she choose you?””
Julian looked back at the road.
“I don’t know.””
Again.
That answer.
I sighed.
“You really hate admitting you don’t know things.””
“No.””
He shook his head.
“I hate that there are things I should have known.””
I looked at him.
“What does that mean?””
He was quiet.
Then:
“Your mother knew me when nobody else did.””
I waited.
“She saw something in me before I built everything.””
“What?””
“A person.””
The answer surprised me.
Julian continued.
“When I was younger, everyone wanted something from me.””
“Because of your money?””
“Because of my name.””
He drove past a row of buildings.
“My family had influence before I had success. People were always around.””
“Friends?””
“No.””
He smiled faintly.
“Not really.””
“And your mother?””
“She didn’t care.””
I looked at him.
“She treated me like everyone else.””
“That sounds like her.””
“Yes.””
A quiet moment passed.
“She once yelled at me.””
I turned.
“My mother?””
Julian nodded.
“Why?””
“Because I was being arrogant.””
I almost smiled.
“I can believe that.””
He looked amused.
“She told me money was the easiest thing in the world to lose.””
“What did she say was harder?””
“Yourself.””
The words stayed with me.
Because that sounded exactly like her.
We arrived at the hospital.
Before we got out, Julian stopped me.
“Abby.””
I looked over.
“Your father may not tell you everything.””
“I know.””
“He may not be ready.””
“That’s not his choice anymore.””
Julian nodded slowly.
“You’re right.””
Inside, the smell of antiseptic immediately brought back memories.
Hospitals had a way of making time disappear.
A person could be twenty years old or eighty years old.
Everyone looked fragile under fluorescent lights.
We found Ethan sitting outside the room.
He stood immediately when he saw me.
“Abby.””
I hugged him.
“How is he?””
“Doctors say he’s okay.””
Relief hit me.
“Okay?””
“He bruised his hip. They’re running tests.””
I nodded.
Then Ethan noticed Julian.
His expression changed.
“Who’s that?””
I opened my mouth.
I didn’t know what to say.
A billionaire.
A stranger.
A person connected to our mother’s secret.
None of those sounded normal.
“This is Julian Cross.””
Ethan froze.
“Cross?””
Julian extended his hand.
“Nice to meet you.””
Ethan didn’t take it.
He looked at me.
“Why is Julian Cross here?””
My stomach tightened.
“You know him?””
Ethan’s face changed.
“No.””
Too fast.
I noticed.
Julian noticed too.
“Ethan.””
My brother looked away.
“What?””
“You reacted like you know that name.””
“I don’t.””
“Ethan.””
He sighed.
“I’ve heard Dad mention it.””
My heart dropped.
“When?””
“Years ago.””
“Why?””
Ethan hesitated.
“Because sometimes he woke up screaming.””
The hallway suddenly felt colder.
“What?””
Ethan lowered his voice.
“After Mom died.””
I stared.
“My dad had nightmares?””
“Yes.””
“What did he say?””
Ethan looked uncomfortable.
“I don’t know.””
“You know.””
He looked at me.
Then whispered:
“He used to say one thing.””
My heartbeat increased.
“What?””
Ethan swallowed.
“He used to say…”
A nurse walked by.
Ethan lowered his voice.
“He used to say, ‘I promised Evelyn I would never tell Abby.’”
Everything stopped.
My mother’s name.
Again.
A promise.
A secret.
A lie.
I looked at Julian.
His expression was unreadable.
But I saw it.
Recognition.
He knew exactly what Ethan was talking about.
Before I could ask, the hospital room door opened.
A doctor stepped out.
“Family of Robert Mercer?””
We all turned.
“That’s me,” I said.
The doctor nodded.
“Your father is awake.””
Relief came first.
Then fear.
Because the doctor continued.
“But he’s asking for Abigail specifically.””
I stepped forward.
“Okay.””
The doctor hesitated.
“He seems distressed.””
“Why?””
The doctor looked at me.
“He keeps saying the same thing.””
My heart slowed.
“What?””
The doctor glanced down at his notes.
“He says…”
A pause.
“He says, ‘Don’t let Cross find the recording.’”
The hallway went silent.
I looked at Julian.
He looked back at me.
And for the first time, I realized something.
My father wasn’t afraid of the person who had been hiding the truth.
He was afraid of Julian Cross finding it.
And that meant one terrifying possibility.
May you like
Maybe my mother’s secret wasn’t about protecting Julian.
Maybe it was about protecting us from him.
