Chương 8
She paused.
“But if I am right, someone else might.”
Marcus understood what she meant.
Lily.
The thought made his stomach tighten.
The lake house appeared after another mile.
The property sat beyond a narrow dirt road surrounded by trees.
It had once been a place where the family spent summers.
Marcus remembered running along the dock when he was young.
Before business.
Before arguments.
Before everyone became careful around everyone else.
Now the house looked abandoned.
The paint had faded.
The porch lights were broken.
The windows reflected only darkness.
Stallone parked near the entrance.
The bodyguards stepped out first.
They checked the area silently.
No movement.
No vehicles.
No signs of anyone outside.
Marcus looked at the old house.
“I hate this place.”
Stallone glanced at him.
“You used to love it.”
“When I was a kid.”
“Exactly.”
Marcus smiled faintly.
“When things were simpler.”
“No.”
Stallone looked toward the house.
“When things were hidden.”
The words stayed with him.
They walked to the front door.
It was unlocked.
That alone told them something.
Daniel was either careless.
Or he wanted them to come inside.
Stallone pushed the door open.
The smell of dust and old wood filled the room.
A lamp was on near the fireplace.
Someone had been there recently.
Marcus stepped inside.
“Daniel.”
No answer.
They moved farther into the house.
The furniture was covered with white sheets.
Old photographs still hung on the walls.
A younger version of the family smiled from another time.
A time when nobody knew how much damage people could hide behind happy pictures.
Claire stopped near a small table.
“He was here.”
Marcus looked at her.
“How do you know?”
She pointed.
A coffee cup sat near the edge.
“He always leaves things like that.”
Marcus looked confused.
“What?”
“He never finishes anything.”
She touched the cup but did not pick it up.
“Meals.”
“Promises.”
“Plans.”
“He starts something, gets overwhelmed, and walks away.”
There was no anger in her voice.
That was what surprised Marcus.
Only exhaustion.
A sound came from upstairs.
Everyone stopped.
The bodyguards moved immediately.
Stallone raised one hand.
Wait.
Footsteps crossed the hallway above them.
Slow.
Unsteady.
Then someone appeared at the top of the stairs.
Daniel Vale looked different from the man Marcus expected.
He looked younger.
Not healthier.
Just younger in the way exhausted people sometimes did when they had finally run out of energy to pretend.
His expensive clothes were wrinkled.
His hair was messy.
He held a phone in one hand.
“Uncle Stallone.”
The greeting sounded almost embarrassed.
Stallone looked at him.
“Daniel.”
Marcus stepped forward.
“You blamed my daughter.”
Daniel looked at him.
His face changed.
Only slightly.
But enough.
“I did not.”
The answer came too quickly.
Marcus stared at him.
“You did not?”
“No.”
Daniel shook his head.
“I never told anyone she broke it.”
Claire looked at him.
“You did not have to.”
Daniel looked away.
The silence revealed more than an argument could.
Stallone stepped closer.
“Explain.”
Daniel rubbed his face.
“I came here because I needed time.”
“You needed time after stealing money.”
Daniel flinched.
“It was not like that.”
Marcus laughed once.
A bitter sound.
“Then what was it like?”
Daniel looked at him.
“You would not understand.”
“Try me.”
Daniel looked toward the old fireplace.
“When you grow up around people like this, everyone expects you to be something.”
Marcus said nothing.
Daniel continued.
“Successful.”
“Strong.”
“Perfect.”
A small smile appeared.
“But nobody asks if you actually are.”
Claire looked away.
Marcus noticed.
There was pain there.
Not because she believed him completely.
Because she recognized pieces of the person she once loved.
Daniel sat down.
“I made mistakes.”
Stallone remained standing.
“Many.”
Daniel nodded.
“Yes.”
That honesty was unexpected.
“I kept thinking I could fix everything tomorrow.”
He looked at his hands.
“Then tomorrow kept getting more expensive.”
Marcus crossed his arms.
“And the answer was stealing?”
“No.”
Daniel looked up.
“The answer was hiding.”
The admission changed the room.
Because hiding was not an excuse.
It was a confession.
A confession that explained the pattern without removing responsibility.
“Why did you let Lily take the blame?” Marcus asked.
Daniel’s face tightened.
“I did not.”
“Why?”
“Because I did not know that was happening.”
Marcus stared.
“Your mother told us you were here.”
Daniel looked shocked.
“My mother?”
“Yes.”
He stood.
“When?”
“This morning.”
Daniel shook his head.
“No.”
His reaction seemed genuine.
Stallone noticed.
“You are saying Eleanor lied to you too?”
Daniel looked toward Claire.
Then back at them.
“I came here because she called me.”
Nobody moved.
“She said she could help me.”
Marcus frowned.
“That is impossible.”
Daniel looked at him.
“Is it?”
The question bothered him because he had no answer.
Eleanor had hidden things before.
She had protected people.
She had lied.
The family story had become less like a straight line and more like a room full of mirrors.
“What did she want?” Stallone asked.
Daniel hesitated.
“She wanted something from me.”
“What?”
Daniel looked toward the window.
“She wanted me to take the blame.”
Marcus went still.
“For the vase?”
“No.”
Daniel swallowed.
“For something bigger.”
“For something bigger.”
The words stayed in the room.
Nobody rushed to fill the silence after them.
Daniel looked toward the floor.
“I did not understand at first.”
Stallone watched him.
“Understand what?”
“That she was not trying to help me.”
Daniel swallowed.
“She was trying to protect herself.”
Marcus stepped closer.
“From what?”
Daniel looked at him.
“From the truth.”
The answer was frustrating because it was too vague.
But unlike before, nobody in the room believed vagueness was accidental.
“Start from the beginning,” Stallone said.
Daniel sat back down.
“I found out Eleanor had been moving money.”
Marcus frowned.
“My mother?”
Daniel nodded.
“Not stealing.”
He looked at Claire.
“Not like I did.”
Claire looked away.
“But she was moving money between accounts to cover problems.”
“What problems?”
Daniel hesitated.
May you like
“Your father’s old investments.”
Stallone’s expression changed slightly.
