Chapter 151 Chapter 151
Old Norman snorted. Even if the assassination succeeded without leaving any evidence, wouldn't Benjamin still suspect him? Benjamin would suspect him either way. Old Norman gave a faint, cold laugh. It would be better to pay with his life than to watch Benjamin destroy the Norman family.
He hung up the phone, rose with his cane, and prepared to head to the apartment. Coincidentally, just as he was about to get into his car, Vito drove back. Seeing his grandfather about to leave surprised him. Grinning, he walked over and asked, "Grandpa, where are you headed?"
Old Norman glared at him without answering, merely lecturing him as usual: "Stop running around all day and get some real work done! You're over twenty now—I swear you're trying to drive me to my grave!”
Vito was used to his scolding. He defended himself: "Grandpa, I work really hard."
Old Norman ignored him, glared once more, and climbed into the car with a grim expression.
Vito stood by the roadside until the car had driven far away, then turned toward the courtyard. But after a few steps, something felt off. His grandfather had the habit of napping at this hour—it was precisely his siesta time. Yet he’d left the house fully dressed, clearly for some reason. It was something he didn’t want Vito to know. Vito had only asked casually, but he had deliberately changed the subject.
Vito stopped, hesitated briefly, and then turned around and drove back to his car. Fortunately, his grandfather wasn't driving fast. As they neared the city center, Vito caught up, but he didn't get too close; he merely trailed them at a distance. Unexpectedly, his grandfather's car weaved through the city streets, picked up an unfamiliar man outside an upscale residential complex, and entered the compound.
Though Vito had never been there before, he knew Benjamin lived in the area. Confused, several thoughts raced through his mind as he considered following them. Suddenly, a security guard stopped him and questioned his identity. Vito made up a name on the spot and claimed he was looking for someone. Suspicion flashed in the guard's eyes as he shook his head. "The person you mentioned isn't a resident here."
Fearing exposure, Vito replied, "Then I must have the wrong address. My apologies.”
He backed his car out and parked temporarily out of the guard's sight. He hesitated briefly before dialing Benjamin's office number. The secretary answered promptly. Upon hearing that he wanted to speak with Benjamin, she hurriedly said, "Please hold while I consult with Mr. Norman."
Vito had only called to verify Benjamin's whereabouts. Hearing the secretary's response confirmed that Benjamin was at the office. But why would his grandfather come to his apartment? As he pondered this question, the call was transferred to Benjamin, who asked coolly, "What's up?"
Vito paused, unable to think of a plausible excuse. "I'm short on cash lately," he blurted out. "Could you lend me some money?"
"How much?" Benjamin inquired.
"Ten million," Vito blurted out, already scheming an excuse to fob him off. Unexpectedly, Benjamin simply replied, "Alright." He paused, then added coldly, "Don't get involved with drugs or gambling. Women are fine, but be careful—don't catch anything.”
Vito froze, stunned that he would give him such advice. Somehow, he suddenly recalled their time together in Spain. Back then, Alex had just become "Benjamin," learning everything from scratch and stumbling along the way. Vito resented his grandfather's unfairness and hated Alex for taking his cousin's identity. He made life difficult for the familiar yet unfamiliar "Benjamin" at every turn. Alex wasn't one to take it lying down, though, and had beaten him up twice. Yet when Vito was hunted by the mob, Alex risked his life to save him.
"Benjamin," Vito suddenly called out.
Benjamin had been about to hang up, but hearing him call his name made him pause. Vito paused for a moment before continuing. "Grandpa just took some men to your apartment. I don't know what he's up to."
After a brief silence, the jarring sound of chairs scraping across the floor echoed through the phone. Benjamin sprang to his feet, his face turning ashen, and stormed out. He barked into the phone, "Get there immediately! Whatever he's planning, you must stop him!"
Without waiting for Vito's response, Benjamin hung up. He dialed Michael's number next, but after several rings, there was no answer. Benjamin's expression darkened further. He ended the call and switched to dialing Grace's cell. Thankfully, she answered quickly. Her voice was low. Before he could speak, she said, "Benjamin, your grandfather came looking for me."
"Don't provoke him!" Benjamin ordered in a low voice. "Whatever he says, agree to it first."
Grace paused. "I haven't seen him. Michael told me to hide in the study and lock the door.”
Benjamin felt slightly relieved. The study was extremely sturdy, and its door was bulletproof. If Grace was hiding in there, Old Norman couldn't get to her. "Then it's fine. Wait for me. I'm heading back right now." Benjamin was extremely tense, yet he spoke in a low, reassuring voice. The call remained connected. Just as he slid into his car, a muffled gunshot echoed through the receiver. Startled, he cried out, "Grace!"
"Benjamin," Grace said, her voice steady but tightening. "They're shooting at the door, probably the lock."
Though the door was bulletproof, deliberate destruction wasn't entirely foolproof. Benjamin didn't bother calling for a driver. He drove straight out of the garage himself. Yet he carefully instructed Grace over the phone: "Go to the bookshelf. The third shelf on the right, fourth shelf from the top. There's a button behind the book. Press it. Then, go to the shelf one to the left, the third shelf from the top. There's another button under the book. Press that one firmly, too. Remember, don't mess up the order. A door will open.”
Gunfire echoed outside the door; bullet holes clustered near the lock. Grace wasted no time, clutching her phone in one hand while fumbling for the button Benjamin had described. It was so well hidden that, without his guidance, she might have missed it entirely.
Pressing the first button produced no immediate reaction. Only after pressing the second button did a series of faint mechanical clicks emanate from behind the wall-sized bookcase. Instantly, the bookshelf—which had seemed fixed to the wall—retracted inward and split open from the center outward. A narrow metal door and a recessed safe were revealed beside it.
Both the metal door and the safe were secured with electronic keypads. Benjamin continued to guide Grace over the phone: "The door code is 0329."
Grace recognized the numbers—the day "Alex" was executed.
She pressed her lips together slightly, her gaze lingering on the safe. No wonder she hadn't found the USB drive anywhere in the study. It must have been hidden here all along.
The door code was the day Alex was transferred out of prison. The metal door marked the day he was executed. But what could the safe's code possibly be?
Unable to hear her reaction over the phone, Benjamin grew impatient. "Grace?"
Grace softly replied before swiftly entering the four digits on the metal door. It slid open silently. What she hadn't anticipated was that inside was an elevator barely large enough for two people. The control panel displayed only two numbers: the top floor and a floor marked “1.”
"Hurry in," Benjamin urged her. "Once the elevator reaches the bottom, exit and follow the passageway straight ahead to get out. Your phone won't have a signal, but don't worry. I'll come pick you up."
Grace never imagined that Benjamin's study concealed an elevator. Without pausing to think, she followed his instructions. Sure enough, after she pressed the close button, the outer bookshelf and narrow metal door automatically sealed shut. The elevator cabin descended swiftly and silently. Her phone indeed lost signal. Using her phone only as a flashlight, Grace ran along the dark, narrow passageway, winding through twists and turns for quite some time before finally spotting a spiral staircase ascending at the end.
Climbing up led to an unlocked wooden door. She pressed her ear against it, listening for any sounds outside. Hearing nothing unusual, she cautiously pulled the door open. The space beyond remained pitch-black. Shining her phone inside, she discovered that it was the interior of a wardrobe. Grace froze for a moment, suddenly realizing where this exit had been hidden.
She crawled out of the wardrobe and found herself in a storage room cluttered with old furniture. The wardrobe serving as the secret passage exit was squeezed among the clutter and was completely inconspicuous. Since there were no lights in the room, she continued to use her phone as a flashlight. She felt her way along the narrow passage between the furniture until she finally found the exit.
The door had a hidden lock, and the key was hanging on the handle. She unlocked it and stepped outside, finally realizing where she was. This was the basement storage area of a residential building. After walking a few steps and turning a corner, she spotted stairs leading upward.
When she stepped through the building's main entrance and glanced around, she was startled to see that Benjamin's apartment building was over a hundred meters away. It wasn't even part of the same complex as the nondescript building.
Her phone finally got a signal, and the call that had never disconnected could continue. Benjamin was still calling her name, his voice thick with urgency. "Grace? How are you? Did you get out?"
"I'm out," Grace replied, her breath slightly ragged. Glancing around again, she asked Benjamin, "Where do I exit?"
Benjamin exhaled in relief and told her how to get out of the complex. The complex stood back-to-back with the upscale neighborhood where Benjamin lived, and their exits faced opposite directions.
Had she not experienced it herself, Grace never would have imagined such a connection existed beneath these two neighborhoods—one new, one old. No wonder Benjamin had abandoned those detached villas to live in a penthouse. If anything happened, it was unlikely that anyone would think he could escape like this.
Fearing pursuit from behind, Grace hastened her pace toward the exit. The community opened onto a quiet, tree-lined side street. The trees' thick trunks formed a canopy of dense foliage that nearly shrouded the entire road. It was mid-afternoon, and the street was nearly deserted. Grace encountered no one on her way out. She paused by the curb, hesitating over her next move, when Benjamin's car suddenly sped around the corner.
He flung open the door and barked, "Get in!"
Without hesitation, she slid into the seat. The car shot forward like an arrow, darting out of the alley and merging into traffic. Benjamin's expression finally eased slightly. Reaching out his right hand, he took hers, his voice deep and reassuring. "It's okay now."
His hand felt unusually cool and damp, as if he'd been sweating profusely. Grace froze for a moment before pulling her hand away. She changed the subject. "Who built that secret passage?"
Hiding an elevator inside a high-rise building was no small feat. It couldn't have been added later. It must have been planned during the building's design phase. And that complex had been completed years ago, long before Alex became Benjamin.
Sure enough, Benjamin replied, "The previous Benjamin."
"Did Michael not know about this secret passage either?" Grace asked.
Benjamin smiled and glanced at her before answering, "It was a lifeline, a way out that Benjamin kept for himself. After he died, I was the only one who knew. But now, there are two of us."
What a meticulous mind! Grace couldn't help but admire that. Thankfully, that man had died early. If he had been her opponent, she wouldn't have stood a chance. Yet a fleeting thought crossed her mind: Had he not died, Alex would have been the one executed. Without Alex, none of the subsequent events would have unfolded. She would still be a respected university professor, living a quiet, happy life with Adrian. How could she have ever crossed paths with the CEO of Norman Science?
For a moment, Grace drifted off, sitting there in silence.
Benjamin glanced back at her, noticing her dazed expression. He couldn't help asking, "Did that scare you?"
Truth be told, she had been terrified, especially when the men outside fired at the lock on the study door. If Old Norman had sent someone to assassinate her, he certainly wouldn't have wanted her to survive.
Was she afraid of death?
When truly cornered, fear vanished. But as long as there was a sliver of hope, she refused to accept death.
Besides, her vengeance remained unfulfilled. To die would be unbearable now. She turned to look at Benjamin and suddenly asked, "If I had really been killed by your grandfather just now, what would you have done?"