“Your father was Harrison’s nephew.”
Mara stared at the portrait.
“What happened to Isabel?”
Mrs. Finch’s voice broke.
“She disappeared.”
“When?”
“1971.”
Mara looked at the baby in the painting.
“Who is that?”
Mrs. Finch said nothing.
Adrian spoke.
“Thomas Bell.”
Mara turned so sharply her shoulder struck the frame.
“What?”
Adrian seemed exhausted now.
“Your father.”
The room tilted.
Mara gripped the mantel.
“No.”
“Harrison had a daughter named Isabel. She had a child outside marriage. Harrison hated the scandal. He forced her to leave the baby with another family.”
Mara’s mouth went dry.
“The Bells.”
“Yes.”
Mara looked at the portrait again.
Thomas Bell.
Her father.
The ordinary accountant who fixed broken radios and made pancakes on Sunday mornings.
Thomas Bell had been Harrison Bellamy’s grandson.
Which meant Mara—
Marcus whispered it first.
“My God.”
Adrian stared at her.
“She’s a Bellamy.”
Mrs. Finch shook her head.
“No.”
Everyone looked at her.
Mrs. Finch’s eyes filled with tears.
“That’s only half of it.”
Seventeen years earlier, Thomas Bell had discovered the truth accidentally.
Harrison was dying.
Guilt had begun eating through the old man’s pride.
He contacted Thomas privately.
He told him about Isabel.
He told him Thomas had been born inside Blackthorn House.
He told him the Bell family had been paid to raise him quietly.
Most importantly, Harrison told Thomas that his legal will had been changed.
Thomas was his direct descendant.
The estate would pass to him.
Not to Harrison’s nephew.
Not to Adrian’s father.
Thomas.
And eventually Mara.
“But Harrison died before the will was filed,” Mrs. Finch said.
Mara shook her head.
“You’re saying my father was murdered over an inheritance?”
“I don’t know.”
Adrian laughed bitterly.
“Yes, you do, Finch.”
She turned.
“Be quiet.”
“No. You’ve lied long enough.”
Mara stepped toward him.
“You had his ring.”
Adrian looked at her.
“So you think I killed him.”
“You were twenty-two when he disappeared.”
“I was.”
“Old enough.”
“Yes.”
“Did you?”
Celeste whispered, “Adrian…”
He ignored her.
Instead he walked to the bar and poured whiskey.
His hand shook.
“I found the ring twelve years ago.”
“Where?”
“In my father’s safe.”
Mara stared at him.
Adrian drank.
“My father was Charles Vale.”
Mara knew the name.
He had died eight years earlier.
Adrian continued.
“After he died, I opened his private safe. The ring was inside with several documents.”
“What documents?”
“Letters from Harrison.”
“And?”
“A confession.”
Mara felt suddenly cold.
“Where is it?”
“Gone.”
“Convenient.”
“I burned it.”
Mara crossed the room and struck him.
The slap echoed.
Adrian did not move.
“You burned my father’s confession?”
“No.”
He looked directly at her.
“I burned my father’s.”
Nobody spoke.
Adrian placed the glass down.
“Charles killed Thomas Bell.”
Mara’s knees almost failed.
Mrs. Finch covered her mouth.
Marcus whispered, “Dad?”
Adrian nodded.
“He confronted Thomas on the cliff road. Thomas had proof that Harrison intended to recognize him as heir. Charles believed everything would be taken from us.”
