Chapter 17 – Face to Face with the Devil
Chapter 17 – Face to Face with the Devil
Rain fell steadily over Hawthorne Estate.
Dark clouds rolled across the evening sky as security guards patrolled every entrance. Since Richard's arrest, Arthur had doubled the number of guards and ordered every vehicle entering the property to be inspected.
It wasn't enough.
Arthur knew it.
If Malcolm Sterling truly stood behind everything Elizabeth had uncovered, then Richard had merely been the first battle.
The real war was only beginning.
Emma sat in the estate library, reading through her mother's diary again.
Each page made Elizabeth feel closer.
Each sentence reminded Emma of the woman who had sacrificed her identity, her fortune, and eventually her life so her daughter could survive.
A soft knock came at the door.
Lucas stepped inside carrying two mugs of coffee.
"I thought you could use a break."
Emma smiled gratefully.
"You always seem to know."
Lucas handed her a mug.
"My grandmother used to tell me that answers come easier after coffee."
Emma laughed quietly.
"I think your grandmother and my mother would have been friends."
Lucas smiled.
"I think so too."
For a few peaceful moments, neither of them spoke.
Then Emma looked out the window.
"Do you ever wonder what life would've been like if my mother had never disappeared?"
Lucas followed her gaze.
"Every day."
He hesitated.
"But then..."
He looked at her.
"If she hadn't protected you..."
"We wouldn't be sitting here."
Emma nodded slowly.
Sometimes survival came at a terrible price.
Across the estate, Agent Rebecca Collins received an urgent call from FBI headquarters.
She answered immediately.
"Collins."
The voice on the other end sounded tense.
"We have a problem."
"What happened?"
"Malcolm Sterling just disappeared."
Collins frowned.
"What do you mean disappeared?"
"He left his Manhattan office thirty minutes ago."
"His private jet is still at Teterboro."
"His phone is off."
"No credit card activity."
"No GPS signal."
Collins understood instantly.
"He's already moving."
"Yes."
The line went silent for a moment.
Then headquarters added,
"We think he's heading toward Hawthorne Estate."
Collins didn't hesitate.
"Lock down the property."
Within minutes, steel security gates closed across every entrance.
Armed federal agents joined Hawthorne security throughout the grounds.
Lucas noticed the sudden activity.
"What happened?"
Collins answered as she hurried past.
"Malcolm Sterling is missing."
Arthur stepped into the hallway.
"Missing?"
"No."
Collins corrected herself.
"Hunting."
At exactly 8:15 p.m., headlights appeared beyond the main gate.
One black Rolls-Royce Phantom.
No security escort.
No additional vehicles.
It rolled calmly to a stop before the entrance.
The driver stepped out first.
Then opened the rear door.
Malcolm Sterling emerged.
He wore a perfectly tailored charcoal overcoat despite the rain.
No umbrella.
No bodyguards.
Just quiet confidence.
He glanced once at the armed FBI agents surrounding the gate.
Then smiled.
"I'd like to speak with Arthur Hawthorne."
One of the agents raised a hand.
"Stay where you are."
Malcolm obeyed without complaint.
"My name is Malcolm Sterling."
"I believe Mr. Hawthorne has been expecting me."
Arthur watched from the mansion's front steps.
Emma stood beside him.
Lucas remained slightly behind them.
Agent Collins whispered,
"You don't have to meet him."
Arthur shook his head.
"I've waited twenty-five years."
He walked toward the gate.
Emma followed.
The two men stopped only a few feet apart.
For several long moments...
Neither spoke.
Finally Malcolm smiled.
"You've aged well, Arthur."
Arthur's expression remained cold.
"My daughter didn't."
The smile faded.
"I suppose I deserved that."
Arthur looked directly into Malcolm's eyes.
"Did you kill Elizabeth?"
Malcolm answered without hesitation.
"No."
Emma stepped forward.
"Then why did my mother spend twenty-two years hiding from you?"
Malcolm looked at her for the first time.
His calm blue eyes studied her face.
Then something unexpected happened.
His expression softened.
"You have her eyes."
Emma felt a chill.
"You knew my mother."
Malcolm nodded once.
"Better than anyone realizes."
Agent Collins interrupted.
"Mr. Sterling."
"Anything you say may be used against you."
Malcolm smiled politely.
"I have no intention of confessing."
He reached into his coat.
Half the agents immediately drew their weapons.
Malcolm slowly removed...
A sealed envelope.
He handed it toward Emma.
"For you."
Arthur stepped between them.
"No."
Malcolm looked at Arthur.
"She deserves the truth."
Emma hesitated.
"What is it?"
"A letter."
"From whom?"
Malcolm answered quietly.
"Your mother."
Arthur's eyes widened.
"Impossible."
Malcolm shook his head.
"Elizabeth wrote it six months before she died."
Emma's heartbeat quickened.
"How did you get it?"
Malcolm looked directly at her.
"Because she mailed it to me."
Silence.
Arthur stared in disbelief.
"She contacted you?"
Malcolm nodded.
"She asked me for one final favor."
Emma whispered,
"What favor?"
Malcolm's voice was almost gentle.
"To protect you."
The world seemed to stop.
Lucas frowned.
"That doesn't make any sense."
"It doesn't."
Arthur agreed.
"You hunted her for years."
Malcolm looked at him calmly.
"No."
"I protected her for years."
Everyone froze.
Even Agent Collins looked surprised.
Arthur took one step forward.
"You're lying."
Malcolm slowly shook his head.
"The person hunting Elizabeth..."
He turned toward the mansion.
"...was never me."
Emma could barely breathe.
"If not you..."
Malcolm looked directly at Arthur.
"You've spent twenty-five years blaming the wrong enemy."
Arthur's voice became dangerously quiet.
"Then who?"
Malcolm answered with only two words.
"The Black Circle."
Collins' face instantly lost all color.
Lucas noticed.
"You've heard of them?"
Collins remained silent.
Arthur demanded,
"What is the Black Circle?"
Collins slowly exhaled.
"I was hoping..."
"...you'd never hear that name."
Before anyone could ask another question...
A loud explosion rocked the estate.
Flames erupted from the far side of the property.
One of the security buildings had been blown apart.
Agents immediately rushed toward the fire.
Another explosion followed.
Then another.
Smoke filled the night sky.
Malcolm looked toward the burning building without the slightest hint of surprise.
"They're here."
Emma turned sharply.
"Who?"
Malcolm's eyes remained fixed on the flames.
"The people your mother was really running from."
And somewhere inside the chaos...
A masked figure watched Emma through the scope of a rifle.
This time...
May you like
The target wasn't the evidence.
It was the last surviving Hawthorne heir.
