Chapter 2 - Whispers of the Past
Nathan moved with swift, silent purpose, cutting through the narrow alleyways between high-profile family vaults. The men in trench coats picked up their pace, realizing their targets were moving, but Nathan knew the layout of Hawthorne Memorial far better than any outsider.
He slipped through a concealed wrought-iron gate at the rear of the property, where his private sleek black SUV was idling. His trusted driver and bodyguard, Marcus, immediately stepped out, opening the door.
"Sir?" Marcus asked, his sharp eyes noticing the terror in the little girls' eyes.
"Drive. Now. Back to the penthouse," Nathan ordered, bundling the girls into the heated leather backseat. "And call Dr. Evans. I need a private, off-the-books medical check and an expedited DNA panel immediately."
As the vehicle sped away toward Manhattan, the twins sat huddled together, shivering despite the car’s warm interior. Nathan removed his heavy cashmere overcoat and gently wrapped it over both of them.
"You're safe now," Nathan said softly, his voice warmer than it had been in years. "I promise you."
The twin named Maya looked up, clutching the plush collar of his coat. "Are you really Uncle Nathan? Mommy showed us a drawing of you. She said you were brave, but that Grandpa kept you in a cage made of money."
Nathan winced at the brutal honesty of the phrase. It was chillingly accurate.
"Where was your apartment?" Nathan asked gently.
"In Brooklyn," Lily murmured. "On 4th Street. A man with a scar on his neck kicked our door open last night. Mommy hid us in the pantry behind the flour sacks."
Nathan pulled out his encrypted phone and dialed his private security chief, Vance.
"Vance," Nathan spoke in a low, dangerous tone. "Send a tactical team to an address in Brooklyn—4th Street. Find Clara Vance. If anyone is holding her, neutralize the threat and bring her to me alive. And Vance... tell no one. Not Davidson, not the board."
"Understood, Mr. Collins. On it."
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Nathan ended the call and leaned back against the headrest. His mind raced back through the last decade. His father, William Collins, had been an impenetrable fortress of secrets. When Julian died, William had forbidden anyone from speaking his name again, throwing himself into corporate expansions and dragging Nathan into the business with a tight leash.
Now the terrifying truth was unspooling: Julian had been murdered, and his father had spent his final years hiding Julian’s family to keep them from being slaughtered by Robert Davidson—the very man who currently sat as Vice Chairman of Collins Enterprises.
