Chapter Ninety-Three: The Vault Beneath Haywood Manor
Chapter Ninety-Three: The Vault Beneath Haywood Manor
Oliver barely slept.
The words from the diary echoed through his mind like a relentless drumbeat.
He wasn’t first.
It couldn’t simply refer to Richard.
There was something older.
Something Harold Haywood had buried long before his death.
Morning sunlight filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Haywood Manor, but it did nothing to brighten the atmosphere.
Marcus spread several documents across the dining table while Nuella poured coffee.
Sophia sat quietly beside them, still under police protection.
Oliver descended the staircase, already dressed in a charcoal suit.
“Did anyone get any sleep?” he asked.
Marcus smirked.
“You know the answer to that.”
Oliver took his seat.
“What do we have?”
Marcus slid over a faded blueprint.
“I spent the entire night searching through Harold’s archived property records.”
Oliver frowned.
“And?”
“This.”
He tapped a section beneath the original Haywood Manor.
“It shouldn’t exist.”
Oliver leaned closer.
“What is it?”
Marcus smiled faintly.
“A sub-basement.”
Nuella looked confused.
“The house already has a basement.”
Marcus nodded.
“Yes.”
“But according to these original architectural drawings…”
He pointed to a section hidden beneath the wine cellar.
“…there’s another level.”
Silence filled the room.
Oliver stared at the blueprint.
“I’ve lived in this house since I was twelve.”
Marcus nodded.
“And somehow…”
“…you never knew there was another floor.”
An hour later…
Oliver stood inside the enormous wine cellar.
Hundreds of dusty bottles lined the stone walls.
Marcus carried Harold’s blueprint.
The FBI forensic team had also arrived.
One technician compared the drawings with the wall before them.
Then he pointed.
“Here.”
Oliver frowned.
“That’s solid concrete.”
The technician smiled.
“Not exactly.”
He knocked.
Most of the wall produced a dull sound.
One section…
Echoed.
Marcus grinned.
“Hollow.”
Oliver’s pulse quickened.
The technicians immediately brought scanning equipment.
Within minutes…
A rectangular outline appeared beneath decades of plaster.
A hidden steel door.
Nuella whispered,
“My God…”
Oliver stepped forward.
“There really is another room.”
One technician searched for a handle.
Nothing.
Another examined the locking mechanism.
“This wasn’t meant to be found.”
Marcus folded his arms.
“Can you open it?”
The technician nodded.
“It’ll take time.”
Oliver looked at his watch.
“You have all the time you need.”
Across town…
Victor Sloan parked outside a small church.
He wasn’t there to pray.
An elderly priest greeted him nervously.
“You’re late.”
Victor removed his sunglasses.
“I had business.”
The priest handed him an old envelope.
“I kept this because Harold asked me to.”
Victor froze.
“What?”
“He said one day someone dangerous would come asking.”
Victor slowly accepted the envelope.
Across the front…
Only three words were written.
If Richard Fails.
For the first time in years…
Victor looked genuinely unsettled.
Back at Haywood Manor…
Metal groaned loudly.
The concealed door slowly swung open.
Cold air rushed outward.
As though the room had remained sealed for decades.
Everyone switched on flashlights.
Stone steps disappeared into darkness.
Oliver was the first to descend.
Marcus followed.
Nuella ignored everyone’s objections and came too.
The staircase ended inside an underground chamber unlike anything they expected.
It wasn’t a bunker.
It wasn’t a vault.
It was…
A private archive.
Shelves stretched from floor to ceiling.
Boxes.
Ledgers.
Photographs.
Film reels.
Locked cabinets.
Every item was carefully labeled.
Marcus whispered,
“Harold documented everything.”
Oliver slowly walked through the room.
One cabinet caught his attention immediately.
Its brass plate simply read:
RICHARD.
His hands trembled as he unlocked it.
Inside…
Hundreds of files.
Every one bearing his father’s name.
Marcus pulled out the first folder.
His eyes widened.
“Oliver…”
“You need to see this.”
Oliver opened it.
Inside were private investigation reports.
Medical records.
Financial statements.
Letters.
All concerning Richard Haywood.
Then…
A photograph slipped onto the floor.
Oliver picked it up.
His breathing stopped.
It showed Richard…
Standing beside Victor Sloan.
They looked almost the same age.
Not employer and employee.
Friends.
Brothers in arms.
The date on the back made Oliver’s blood run cold.
Twenty-eight years ago.
Long before Oliver had even been born.
Nuella looked over his shoulder.
“So Victor didn’t start working for Richard nine years ago.”
Marcus slowly shook his head.
“No…”
“He was with him from the very beginning.”
Oliver reached deeper into the cabinet.
At the very back…
He found a sealed envelope addressed in Harold Haywood’s handwriting.
For Oliver.
His heart pounded.
“He knew.”
Marcus looked at him.
“He knew you’d eventually find this.”
Oliver carefully broke the seal.
Inside was only a single handwritten page.
Oliver,
If you are reading this, then I have failed to stop your father myself.
Everything Richard became started with one decision made twenty-eight years ago.
You have been searching for a forged marriage.
You have been chasing Victor Sloan.
But neither is where this story truly begins.
The first crime was committed years before either of those.
If you want the truth…
You must discover who Ethan Cross was.
Richard spent his entire life making sure no one remembered that name.
Do not make the same mistake.
Harold Haywood.
Silence consumed the underground chamber.
Marcus looked up slowly.
“Ethan Cross?”
Nuella frowned.
“I’ve never heard that name.”
Sophia shook her head.
“Neither have I.”
Oliver folded the letter carefully.
His grandfather had just opened another door.
One that led far beyond forged documents and hidden marriages.
Somewhere in the shadows of the past…
A man named Ethan Cross had disappeared.
And Richard Haywood had spent nearly three decades ensuring the world forgot he ever existed.
Oliver looked at Marcus.
“Find Ethan Cross.”
Marcus nodded once.
“I already have a feeling…”
“…this is where everything started.”