Chapter 4 - THE FATHER AT THE GATE
Lana had imagined seeing Richard again many times.
Usually he was sober.
Usually ashamed.
Sometimes he begged forgiveness.
Sometimes she walked past him without speaking.
Reality was less satisfying.
Richard stood beneath the front portico wearing the same brown coat he had owned for six winters and looking annoyed by the cold.
Sebastian Gallow stood beside him in cashmere.
The contrast was almost obscene.
Lana watched through the interior security monitor.
Vincent stood beside her.
“You do not have to see him.”
She looked at him.
“Richard?”
“Yes.”
“I know.”
Five weeks earlier, Frank had told her to pack.
Richard watched.
Now Lana had a salary.
A key card that opened the main doors.
Freedom to walk out.
The difference changed her posture.
“Let them in.”
Vincent’s expression tightened.
“Sebastian too?”
“Yes.”
“I do not like this.”
“I know.”
“That was not an argument.”
“No.”
She looked at him.
“But if he knows about the cottage, pretending otherwise is useless.”
Vincent nodded.
Then spoke into the intercom.
“Library.”
Frank escorted them inside.
Richard saw Lana first.
His face changed.
Relief.
Then calculation.
Lana knew both.
“Baby.”
She hated the word.
“Don't.”
He stopped.
Sebastian looked amused.
Vincent entered last.
The library doors closed.
Nobody sat.
Sebastian smiled.
“Vincent.”
“Uncle.”
“I hear you’ve been reading Arthur’s old things.”
No denial.
Vincent’s voice stayed calm.
“You hear a lot.”
“I built half the security in this house.”
“Apparently not well enough.”
Sebastian’s smile thinned.
Richard looked around.
“Lana, can we talk alone?”
“No.”
His face tightened.
“This is family.”
“No.”
“I'm your father.”
“Yes.”
“That means something.”
“It used to mean I paid your electric bill while you gambled.”
Richard flinched.
Good.
Sebastian watched closely.
Lana understood suddenly.
He had profiled her as compliant under family pressure.
He expected Richard to still be the lever.
She smiled.
“Why is he here?”
Sebastian answered.
“He wanted to see you.”
Richard nodded too quickly.
“I was worried.”
“About me?”
“Yes.”
“After you sold me for eighty-four thousand dollars.”
His face flushed.
“It wasn't like that.”
“It was exactly like that.”
“You were going to work.”
“For five years.”
“You had nowhere else.”
“I had a job.”
“You barely made enough.”
“You made sure of that.”
Richard stopped.
Sebastian’s eyes sharpened.
Lana continued.
“Somebody kept extending you gambling credit.”
Richard looked away.
“That's how books work.”
“Somebody covered your losses.”
Silence.
“You knew.”
“No.”
“Dad.”
He licked dry lips.
“I knew somebody liked my action.”
“Who?”
He looked at Sebastian.
There.
Vincent saw it too.
Sebastian sighed.
“Richard.”
“What?”
“You were told not to discuss operational matters.”
Lana laughed.
“Operational matters?”
Richard’s face crumpled.
“You don't understand.”
“I understand enough.”
She stepped toward him.
“Did he pay you?”
“No.”
“Did he give you gambling credit?”
Richard said nothing.
“Did he tell you to offer me?”
The room went still.
Vincent’s face became lethal.
Sebastian said, “Careful.”
Lana ignored him.
“Dad.”
Richard’s eyes filled.
“He said Vincent needed an accountant.”
Her stomach dropped even though she knew.
“He told you.”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Before Frank came.”
“How long before?”
Richard looked at the floor.
“Two months.”
Lana stopped breathing.
Two months.
Her father knew where the debt was going.
He had time.
He continued gambling anyway.
“You agreed to sell me before you owed the final amount.”
“No.”
“You knew it was an option.”
“I thought I could win.”
Lana laughed.
Of course.
Even when someone designed the cage, Richard believed one more race would save him.
“Did Sebastian tell you to keep losing?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“He said if things got bad, there was a way out.”
Lana looked at Sebastian.
“A way out.”
He smiled faintly.
“A job.”
Vincent moved.
Just one step.
Sebastian’s eyes shifted.
“Do not.”
Vincent stopped.
Not because Sebastian commanded him.
Because Lana raised one hand.
Her choice.
She looked at Richard.
“Why me?”
“You're good with numbers.”
“Why did he know that?”
Richard rubbed his face.
“I talked.”
“To who?”
“People.”
“What people?”
“At the track.”
Lana closed her eyes.
He bragged.
Of course.
A daughter with an accounting degree.
A daughter fixing branch books.
A daughter too loyal to leave him.
Sebastian did not need sophisticated intelligence.
He needed a drunk father who talked.
Lana looked at Vincent.
“Arthur’s ledger says there were others.”
Richard flinched.
“You knew?”
“What others?”
“Families.”
“No.”
His confusion looked real.
Good.
One piece of innocence.
Not enough.
Sebastian sighed.
“This has become melodramatic.”
Lana turned.
“Then explain it cleanly.”
“You were recruited.”
“For what?”
“To do exactly what you are doing.”
“Fix Vincent’s accounts.”
“Yes.”
“Why manipulate my father?”
“Because Vincent distrusts résumés.”
Vincent’s face hardened.
Sebastian continued.
“He trusts pressure.”
“No,” Vincent said.
His voice was quiet.
“I trust people who show what they are under pressure.”
Sebastian smiled.
“Same difference.”
“It is not.”
Lana looked between them.
Family argument hiding a coup.
“Arthur found you.”
Sebastian’s smile faded.
“He became paranoid.”
“He found digoxin in Vincent’s blood.”
Richard looked confused.
Sebastian did not.
That was enough.
Vincent saw.
The room changed.
“Uncle.”
Sebastian’s face became very still.
“You should be careful what an old man wrote before a stroke.”
Lana said, “Did you poison him too?”
Richard gasped.
Sebastian looked at her.
“You are bold for someone who arrived here as collateral.”
“No.”
She took a step toward him.
“I arrived as collateral.”
Another.
“I am standing here as the accountant who found you.”
His eyes hardened.
Good.
Vincent said, “Answer her.”
Sebastian looked at his nephew.
Then laughed softly.
“You always did let women complicate your judgment.”
Something flashed in Vincent’s face.
Past.
Lana noticed.
“What woman?”
Sebastian’s smile returned.
“Oh.”
Vincent’s voice became dangerous.
“Do not.”
But Lana had heard.
“Who?”
Sebastian looked at her.
“His wife.”
Silence.
Lana had not known Vincent was married.
Was.
The tense mattered.
Richard looked toward the door as if calculating whether he could escape.
Sebastian continued.
“Anna Gallow died three years ago.”
Vincent’s face emptied.
Lana looked at him.
He stared at Sebastian.
“Stop.”
“Car accident.”
Sebastian smiled without warmth.
“Vincent still believes it was random.”
Lana’s pulse slowed.
No.
“Was it?”
Sebastian looked at Vincent.
“Ask Arthur.”
The dead accountant.
Vincent moved so fast Lana barely saw it.
He grabbed Sebastian by the collar and drove him against the bookcase.
Books fell.
Richard shouted.
Frank entered immediately.
Lana said, “Vincent.”
He did not hear.
Or did not care.
Sebastian smiled even with Vincent’s forearm against his throat.
“There he is.”
That smile was the point.
He wanted rage.
Wanted Vincent violent.
Wanted witnesses.
Lana understood.
“Vincent.”
Nothing.
She stepped closer.
Did not touch him.
“Your blood has digoxin in it.”
That reached him.
His eyes shifted.
“Your heart is under stress.”
He froze.
Sebastian’s smile disappeared.
Lana continued.
“He wants you angry.”
Vincent breathed.
Once.
Twice.
Then released Sebastian.
Frank moved between them.
Sebastian adjusted his collar.
“Very good, Miss Carter.”
Lana hated praise from him.
Vincent looked at Frank.
“Take Richard to the guest room.”
Richard panicked.
“What?”
“You are staying until we determine how much you know.”
“I didn't do anything.”
Lana looked at him.
“You did enough.”
Richard stared at her.
She felt nothing.
Maybe later.
Frank led him away.
Sebastian remained.
Vincent said, “You leave.”
Sebastian raised an eyebrow.
“You think I came without insurance?”
“I think you came because you needed to see what Arthur left.”
A flicker.
There.
Vincent smiled.
Cold.
“You don't know.”
Sebastian’s face hardened.
“You think an old ledger protects you?”
“No.”
Vincent looked at Lana.
“She does.”
Lana’s pulse jumped.
She hated the phrasing.
Vincent saw immediately.
He corrected.
“She sees what I didn't.”
Better.
Sebastian looked between them.
Something unpleasant entered his smile.
“That will become inconvenient.”
Lana said, “For you.”
He turned toward the door.
Before leaving, he looked at Vincent.
“Ask yourself one question.”
Vincent said nothing.
“If I wanted you dead, why are you alive?”
Then he left.
The answer lingered.
Lana looked at Vincent.
He had gone pale.
The doctor’s warning.
Digoxin.
Repeated exposure.
Not enough to kill quickly.
Enough to weaken.
Headaches.
Fatigue.
Leg pain perceived worse.
Someone wanted Vincent impaired.
Not dead.
“Why keep you sick?”
Lana whispered.
Vincent looked at the fallen books.
“Control.”
Same structure as Richard.
Same as the recruited families.
Vulnerability first.
Leverage second.
Dependency last.
Sebastian did not want Vincent dead yet.
He wanted him manageable.
Or discredited.
Lana went back to Arthur’s ledger.
They searched for Anna Gallow.
Page forty-six.
A.G.
Vehicle maintenance.
Medical notes.
Insurance payout.
Arthur had written one sentence.
ANNA FOUND THE RECRUITMENT LIST.
Vincent read it.
His hand began shaking.
Lana kept reading.
SHE TOLD V. TO REMOVE S.G.
THREE DAYS LATER HER BRAKES FAILED.
Vincent closed his eyes.
The room went silent.
His wife had not died randomly.
Arthur had suspected Sebastian.
Maybe known.
Lana asked softly, “Did she ever tell you?”
“No.”
“About the recruitment network?”
“No.”
“She may have been trying to protect you.”
Vincent laughed once.
“Everyone keeps protecting me by lying.”
Lana understood that sentence too well.
“Then don't do it to me.”
His eyes opened.
“What?”
“If we keep working together, you do not decide what truth I can handle.”
He looked at her.
“And you?”
“What about me?”
“You do not hide numbers because you fear what I will do.”
Carmine.
She understood.
“Deal.”
No handshake this time.
Something heavier.
Then the physician entered the library.
“Vincent.”
He looked serious.
“The digoxin level is rising.”
Lana’s stomach dropped.
“What does that mean?”
The doctor frowned.
“He hasn't taken anything since we drew blood.”
“No.”
“Then either absorption is delayed…”
He looked toward Vincent.
“Or he was dosed again after the first test.”
Silence.
Lana thought of the coffee Vincent brought her.
His cup.
Kitchen.
House.
Someone inside.
Frank entered behind the doctor.
His face was pale.
“Boss.”
Vincent turned.
“What?”
“We checked the security cameras.”
“And?”
“Sebastian never went near the kitchen.”
Vincent’s jaw tightened.
“Who did?”
Frank looked at Lana.
May you like
Her skin went cold.
“Richard Carter.”
