Chapter 25 - The Cemetery of Secrets: The Architect’s Trap
The anniversary of my father’s death was always a gray,
somber affair.
The cemetery sat on a hill overlooking the Long Island Sound,
the wind howling through the ancient oaks like a chorus of ghosts.
I stood in front of the simple granite headstone,
holding a bouquet of white lilies—the only flowers he had ever loved.
I had left my security detail at the gates.
I needed this moment of silence.
I needed to tell him that I knew the truth.
"I’m sorry,
Dad,"
I whispered,
placing the lilies on the cold stone.
"I’m sorry I didn't see it sooner."
"I’m sorry I let him into our house."
"But I’m going to finish what you started."
"I’m going to take the Circle down."
A twig snapped behind me.
I didn't turn around.
I already knew who it was.
The smell of cheap cologne and desperation was unmistakable.
"You always were too predictable,
Evelyn,"
Everett’s voice said,
shaking with a mixture of fear and bravado.
I turned slowly,
looking at the man I had once thought I loved.
He looked like a corpse himself—thin,
haggard,
and wild-eyed.
He was holding a small silver flask in one hand and a stack of papers in the other.
"Everett,"
I said,
my voice devoid of emotion.
"You’re trespassing."
"I’m ending this!"
he shouted,
stepping toward me.
"You think you’re so smart!"
"You think you won!"
"But I have the truth,
Evelyn!"
"I have the proof that you killed your father!"
I looked at the papers in his hand,
then at the flask.
"Did Victor Thorne give you those?"
Everett froze,
his eyes widening.
"How... how do you know about Victor?"
"I met him in Zurich,"
I said,
taking a step toward him.
"He told me all about you,
Everett."
"He told me you were a disappointment."
"He told me you were just a placeholder until they could get to me."
"Liar!"
Everett screamed.
"He’s going to give me my life back!"
"He’s going to make me CEO again!"
"All I have to do is make sure you drink this."
He held out the flask,
his hand trembling so much the liquid inside splashed against the rim.
"Go ahead,"
I said,
standing perfectly still.
"Drink it yourself,
Everett."
"Prove to me that you’re not just a puppet."
"Prove to me that you have a single ounce of courage left."
Everett looked at the flask,
then at me,
the realization of his own pathetic state finally breaking through his delusions.
"I... I can't,"
he whispered,
the flask falling from his hand and shattering against the grave.
The dark liquid hissed as it touched the stone,
turning the granite black.
I looked down at the poison,
then back at Everett.
"He was never going to give you your life back,
Everett."
"The flask was for me,"
"but the 'confession' was for you."
"If I had died,"
"you would have been arrested for my murder within an hour."
"The papers in your hand are filled with your fingerprints."
"Victor was just cleaning up two messses with one bottle."
Everett collapsed onto the grass,
burying his face in his hands.
"He... he lied to me."
"Everyone lies to you,
Everett,"
I said,
looking down at him with nothing but disgust.
"Because you’re the kind of man who makes it easy."
I pulled out my phone and signaled the security team.
"Take him away,"
I said as Marcus and his men emerged from the shadows.
"And Marcus?"
"Yes,
Ms. Hart?"
"Call the District Attorney."
"Tell them we have a witness who is ready to testify about the Meridian Circle’s involvement in the death of my father."
"And the attempted murder of the CEO of Blackstone."
I looked at Everett as they hauled him to his feet.
"This was your last chance,
Everett."
"Now,"
"you’re not just a ghost."
"You’re a state’s witness."
"I hope you enjoy the protection program."
"It’s a lot less glamorous than a penthouse."
I turned back to my father’s grave as they led him away.
The sun was beginning to break through the clouds,
casting a pale light over the lilies.
The battle was escalating.
The Circle was watching.
But for the first time in ten years,
the architect wasn't just building walls.
May you like
She was building a gallows.
And she knew exactly who was going to hang.
