“So you both stayed silent.”
“Yes.”
“Until Mom died.”
James looked down.
“She didn't stay silent.”
Naomi understood.
“She kept investigating.”
“Yes.”
“And Victor killed her.”
“I believe so.”
“But you said you didn't know.”
“I don't know who gave the order.”
Naomi stood.
“Who did?”
James looked at her.
“Edward Calloway.”
Naomi's blood ran cold.
“My mother was investigating Edward.”
“Yes.”
“Then why did he help hide me?”
James looked confused.
“He didn't.”
Naomi stared.
“What?”
“Edward never helped us.”
“Then who did?”
James's face changed.
“I don't know.”
Later that night, Naomi searched her mother's old belongings.
She found a small wooden box.
Inside were photographs.
Letters.
A key.
And a photograph of three people.
Her mother.
Edward Calloway.
And a young Asian woman Naomi didn't recognize.
On the back was written:
WE WERE WRONG ABOUT HIM.
Naomi turned the photograph over again.
There was another line beneath it.
THE REAL ENEMY IS CLOSER THAN YOU THINK.
The next morning, Henry identified the woman.
“Her name was Mei Lin.”
Naomi looked at him.
“Related to you?”
Henry nodded.
“My older sister.”
Naomi stared.
“She worked for Edward.”
“Yes.”
“What happened to her?”
“She disappeared.”
“When?”
“1999.”
Naomi felt a chill.
“The same year my mother died.”
Henry nodded.
“We thought she was dead.”
“Do you know why she disappeared?”
Henry looked at the photograph.
“She discovered the truth about Northstar.”
“What truth?”
“That Edward wasn't the architect.”
Naomi stared.
“What?”
Henry lowered his voice.
“Edward was being used.”
“By whom?”
Henry hesitated.
Then said:
“Victor Hale.”
The revelation changed everything.
Victor had spent years presenting himself as the victim of Edward's ambition.
But what if it was the opposite?
What if Edward had been the public face?
What if Victor had been the real architect?
Naomi began digging into Victor's history.
She found something strange.
In 1997, Victor's net worth was estimated at $80 million.
By 2002, it had risen above $1.5 billion.
There was no obvious explanation.
No major company sale.
No inheritance.
No public investment success.
The money had appeared.
Naomi studied the dates.
Then she saw it.
The first major increase happened three months after her mother began working for Victor.
Naomi whispered:
“My mother found the money.”
That afternoon, Victor Hale requested a meeting.
Naomi almost laughed when Henry told her.
“He wants to meet me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He says he wants to explain himself.”
Naomi looked at the city through the window.
“Then let's let him.”
Henry frowned.
“You're not going alone.”
“I wasn't planning to.”
Victor's office occupied the top floor of a tower overlooking the bay.
He greeted Naomi personally.
“You look like your mother.”
Naomi stopped.
“You knew her well.”
“Very well.”
“Did you kill her?”
Victor didn't react.
“No.”
“Did you order her death?”
“No.”
“Did you know she was going to die?”
He looked at her.
“Yes.”
Naomi's heart stopped.
“What?”
“I knew she was in danger.”
“And you did nothing.”
“I couldn't.”
“You were one of the most powerful men in the city.”
Victor walked toward the window.
“You think power means control.”
“Doesn't it?”
“No.”
He turned.
“Power means understanding what you cannot control.”
Naomi stared at him.
“Why did you fire me?”
“I didn't.”
“Yes, you did.”
Victor shook his head.
“The restaurant manager fired you.”
“Because you told him to.”
“I told him to remove you.”
“Why?”
Victor's expression changed.
“Because you spoke Mandarin.”
Naomi frowned.
“That makes no sense.”
“It does if you understand who was listening.”
He paused.
“The three men at that table weren't investors.”
Naomi froze.
“Who were they?”
Victor smiled.
“You'll learn soon enough.”
He walked toward the door.
Then stopped.
“Your mother spent twenty years looking for the truth.”
He looked back.
“She found it.”
“What was it?”
Victor opened the door.
“The truth is that everyone involved in Northstar believed they were using someone else.”
Then he left.
Naomi stood alone.
She suddenly understood.
The real mystery wasn't who controlled Northstar.
It was who had controlled Victor.
THE MAN WHO KNEW HER MOTHER
The three men from Table Twelve disappeared the following morning.
Henry's investigators could not locate them.
Their company claimed they had returned to Shanghai.
Their hotel rooms had been emptied.
Their phones were disconnected.
Even the passports they had used appeared to be false.
Naomi sat in Henry's office staring at the information.
“Who are they?”
Henry shook his head.
“I don't know.”
“But Victor said they weren't investors.”
“No.”
“Then why were they at the restaurant?”
Henry looked at her.
“Because they were watching you.”
Naomi felt cold.
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“We don't know.”
The answer arrived that evening.
A man came to Henry's office.
He was in his seventies.
Thin.
Gray-haired.
He carried a cane.
Henry immediately stood.
“Thomas.”
The old man nodded.
Naomi watched carefully.
Thomas looked at her.
For a long time, he said nothing.
Then:
“You have your mother's eyes.”
Naomi's throat tightened.
“You knew her?”
“Yes.”
“Who are you?”
Thomas sat down.
“I worked for Edward Calloway.”
“As what?”
“Security.”
Henry frowned.
“You told me you were an accountant.”
“I was.”
“Then why security?”
“Because Edward needed someone who could protect people.”
Naomi sat across from him.
“Did you protect my mother?”
Thomas looked down.
“No.”
The word was quiet.
But it carried enormous weight.
“What happened?”
“I was too late.”
Naomi's hands tightened.
“Tell me.”
Thomas looked at Henry.
Then at Naomi.
“Your mother discovered Northstar's real purpose.”
“What was it?”
“Control.”
Naomi waited.
“Not money.”
“Then what?”