The Billionaire Came for the Famous Curator—But Couldn’t Take His Eyes Off Her Quiet Sister
Chapter 7
Isabelle was waiting when Lena entered the gallery.
“You found the recording.”
Lena stopped.
“You knew.”
Isabelle closed her eyes.
“I knew enough.”
“How long?”
“Since the beginning.”
Lena laughed bitterly.
“You let me believe you didn’t know.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“By protecting him?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Isabelle’s eyes filled with tears.
“Myself.”
The confession was quiet.
Almost unbearable.
“I was twenty-two,” Isabelle whispered. “I was terrified. Victor threatened to destroy you.”
“He destroyed Dad.”
“I know.”
“You let him.”
“I tried to stop him.”
“You signed the agreement.”
“I signed it because he told me they would kill you.”
Silence.
Lena stared at her sister.
For years, she had imagined Isabelle as cold.
Ambitious.
Selfish.
Now she saw something else.
Fear.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you would have tried to fight him.”
“I should have.”
“And he would have killed you.”
Lena shook her head.
“You didn’t trust me.”
“I trusted you too much.”
Isabelle opened a drawer and removed a small envelope.
“This belonged to Dad.”
Lena stared.
“Why didn’t you give it to me?”
“Because I couldn’t.”
“Why?”
“Because I was afraid of what was inside.”
Lena opened it.
A single handwritten page.
Richard had identified Victor Ashford as the man behind the stolen-art network.
But there was another name.
A name that made Lena’s heart stop.
Daniel Black.
She looked at Adrian.
He had entered the room behind her.
His face had gone completely still.
“My father?”
Adrian took the paper.
He read it twice.
“My father knew Ashford.”
Lena looked at him.
“Was he involved?”
“I don’t know.”
The question cut deeper than either expected.
Adrian had spent his entire adult life building a reputation separate from his father’s.
His father had died when Adrian was twenty-five.
He had always believed the man was complicated but honorable.
Now that certainty was gone.
Before they could continue, every light in the gallery switched off.
Then the fire alarm screamed.
People rushed toward the exits.
Lena grabbed Isabelle.
“Where’s the emergency exit?”
“West corridor.”
They ran.
A man appeared at the end of the hallway.
Lena froze.
He wore a black coat.
His face was partially hidden.
Adrian stepped in front of the sisters.
“Who are you?”
The man smiled.
“You’ve been warned.”
He threw a small device onto the floor.
Smoke filled the corridor.
Adrian grabbed Lena’s hand.
“Run!”
They escaped through the loading entrance.
Outside, police sirens approached.
Isabelle coughed.
Lena looked at Adrian.
“Your father.”
“I know.”
“Do you think he was involved?”
Adrian looked toward the burning gallery.
“I don’t know.”
His voice was different.
Colder.
Then Lena noticed something.
The envelope was gone.
Someone had taken the original letter.
Only the photograph remained.
And on the back of it, written in Richard Hart’s handwriting, were six words:
The Black family knows the truth.
