Fifteen years earlier…
Noah had stood in the open doorway, listening as his father argued with the gunman. He’d told Stephen to go to the safe and open it. Stephen agreed, begging the man not to hurt his family. Noah watched in horror as the man shoved the gun into Stephen’s back and told him to hurry up. Noah gasped and began to cry. That’s when the man turned, startled, and his gun now pointed at Noah. Stephen spun around and his eyes went wide with fear. He yelled at Noah to run but he couldn’t. Noah was frozen, terrified and unable to move a single muscle. His eyes were fixed on the bad man that had invaded their home.
He wanted to yell, to fight, to protect his family but all he could do was stand there, shivering, suddenly wishing he’d never snuck out of bed that night, never gone down stairs, and never followed the two men down the hall. If he hadn’t done any of those things then maybe none of this would be happening. But it was happening, and there was absolutely nothing that Noah could do about it. He was brought back, out of his thoughts, when he heard the click of the gun and he looked up, tearfully, at the intruder.
“Sorry kid.” The gunman said though Noah could detect no remorse in the mans tone. “But I was told not to leave any witnesses.”
Noah closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable shot that would end his life only, it never came. He heard his father yell, “NO!” and then there was some kind of scuffle, and shouting. The sounds of chaos broke out all around him. Noah dared not open his eyes. He just stood there, whimpering, praying for someone to help them. The entire thing happened too fast for Noah’s young mind to process. First they were fighting and then he heard the gun fire. It sounded like a canon going off and Noah screamed. He opened his eyes just in time to see the gunman rush past him, shoving him hard, out of the way.
Noah fell against Stephen’s desk, his head hitting the snow globe that always sat at the top right corner. Noah fell to the ground hard, sharp pain shot through his shoulder, down into his arm, and his head was throbbing. He looked to his left and saw his father laying on the floor. His eyes were open but he wasn’t moving. In his hand he gripped his cell phone, ready for a call he never got the chance to make. Noah picked up the phone and still his father did not move. Noah looked at the phone for a brief moment then quickly dialed a number he knew by heart. A number he was told he could always call, anytime, and for any reason. He waited, listening to the phone ring and then he heard the voice on the other end speak and he knew that everything was going to be alright now.
Hearing that voice made Noah’s heart soar and he started to cry, begging for help.
“Noah? What’s wrong? Why aren’t you in bed? Are you okay?”
Noah sobbed into the phone, trying to answer but the words wouldn’t come. The room began to spin and move in and out of focus. Noah dropped the phone, unable to even remember who he’d called in the first place, or why. He was so confused and then, everything just went black.
Present day…
“I…I called Eric,” Noah said, piecing it all together. “I remember now, I called him before I passed out.”
Thomas nodded slowly. “You did. I found you, unconscious, in the office and I saw the call on Stephen’s phone after the shooter fled. After that, I had to work fast. I checked Stephen for a pulse but he was already gone. I made sure you were still breathing then I checked the security feed and erased the footage. The security cameras in the house naturally caught everything. I couldn’t allow anyone to know what was said between your father and Billy. No one could know about Eleanor, or about you, so I deleted it all, tied up the loose ends, and called for help. I had to protect the integrity of this family, keep its secrets. It’s what I’ve done for years and what I’ll continue to do, for as long as I’m able.”
“Wait, just wait.” Noah held up a hand to stop Thomas as he tried to process all the new information he’d just been given. “There’s still one thing that I don’t get. That night, with so many important people in attendance, the grounds must have been teeming with armed security. No one without an invitation would have gotten past the front doors, so how the hell did the shooter manage to get inside?”
At that, Thomas laughed a loud belly laugh. “You don’t think he’d actually try to stroll through the front doors do you? Good lord boy. I thought you were smarter than that. No, Billy was already inside, hidden, waiting until everyone was gone, long gone, and then he made his move.”
Noah narrowed his eyes, still confused. “But how…”
“You…you let him in.” Riley whispered, his voice trembling.
Thomas’s eyes narrowed and a cold smile flickered at the edges of his mouth. “Yes,” He said, his voice low and bitter. Knowing he had been caught, he dropped the facade. There was no point in it now anyway. The truth always had a way of wiggling it’s way to the surface, no matter how deep down you tried to bury it. “I let him in.”
The room suddenly felt heavy with tension. The low hum of the wind outside felt like a whisper in comparison to the pounding of Riley’s heart as he sat in the dimly lit room. The confession that Billy Bartlett, the gunman who had killed Stephen, had been let in deliberately—by Thomas himself–hung in the air like a noose tightening around their necks.
Riley stared, his blood running cold as the pieces of the puzzle slid into place, painting and even darker picture than he had imagined. He looked from Thomas’s face to Noah, who had gone pale, his eyes wide with horror and betrayal. Noah stood suddenly, he stumbled backward, clutching at the edge of the couch for support. His breath came in short, shallow, and rapid bursts, his mind reeling as the truth finally sunk in. “You…you betrayed my father.” Noah gasped, his voice barely rising above a whisper. Noah’s throat felt tight, but he forced the words out, the horrible truth of what Thomas had done, hit him like a freight train. “Why, Thomas? After everything? Why would you do that to him?”
Thomas sighed, a long, exasperated breath as if Noah’s question bored him. “Your father?” He repeated, his tone dark and full of disdain. “You think I wanted to do this? That I wanted to betray him? I had to do it!” He leaned forward in his chair, locking eyes with Noah, and when he opened his mouth again, years worth of anger and resentment spewed forth in an unending torrent of disappointment and disgust.
“I was loyal–loyal to the Reaney name, to your grandparents. William and Catherine Reaney were the best people I ever had the pleasure of knowing. Strong alpha’s, both of them. William built his company from the ground up and through blood and tears he worked, creating something from nothing, creating something great. He was ruthless, commanding, but fair. I was nothing when he found me, barely eighteen and struggling just to survive.
He took me in, gave me a home and a purpose. He made me what I am today. I had more respect for William Reaney than anyone and I would have done anything for him, but Stephen…your father…he was weak. He was the worst kind kind of alpha, arrogant, entitled, and selfish. He hid behind his wealth and his so-called ‘good deeds’ while his wife ran the estate, and his sister dragged the family name through the dirt.”