Chapter 5 - RICHARD HAYES
Richard Hayes lived twelve miles from the Cole estate in a house designed to look less fortified than it was.
Nathan arrived before noon.
No appointment.
No announcement.
Richard was drinking coffee beneath a covered terrace.
At sixty-three, he still carried himself like a man who believed every room had a price.
“Nathan.”
Nathan sat opposite him.
“Richard.”
No handshake.
Richard noticed.
“Victoria?”
“Alive.”
“That’s a strange answer.”
“She put her hands on my daughter.”
Richard’s expression changed.
Only slightly.
“You have a daughter.”
“You knew.”
Richard took a slow drink.
“I suspected.”
“How?”
“Rumors.”
“Three-year-old children usually don’t generate mafia rumors.”
Richard smiled faintly.
“Your world does.”
Nathan placed Julian’s ring on the table.
Richard’s hand stopped.
“Where did that come from?”
“Lily.”
Richard looked genuinely surprised.
That mattered.
“You didn’t plant it.”
“No.”
“You recognize it.”
“Yes.”
“Julian.”
“Yes.”
“Alive?”
Richard stared at Nathan.
“I don’t know.”
Nathan almost admired the answer.
Technically careful.
“What did Aaron know?”
Richard’s expression darkened.
“My son is dead.”
“So are half the people I need answers from.”
“Leave Aaron out.”
“No.”
Richard’s eyes hardened.
“You walk into my house—”
Nathan leaned forward.
“Your daughter grabbed a three-year-old child in mine.”
Silence.
Richard understood.
Nathan continued.
“Aaron wanted into the Black Table.”
Richard’s face changed.
“Victoria talks too much.”
“Did you sit there?”
Richard looked toward the garden.
“Years ago.”
“Under Arthur?”
“Yes.”
Nathan felt something inside him settle.
Grace had been right.
His father built it.
“What was the Table?”
Richard looked at him.
“You already know enough.”
“I decide enough.”
Richard almost smiled.
“Arthur used to say that.”
“Then don’t compare us.”
The smile faded.
Nathan continued.
“Who ordered Julian killed?”
Richard looked away.
“No formal order.”
Nathan’s eyes narrowed.
“Explain.”
“Julian discovered the Table had been arranging conflicts between families.”
“For what?”
“To keep alliances from becoming too strong.”
“Manufactured wars.”
“Sometimes.”
“Deaths?”
Richard did not answer.
Nathan did.
“Deaths.”
Richard’s voice dropped.
“Your father believed controlled violence was safer than uncontrolled ambition.”
Nathan stared.
“He killed people to maintain balance.”
“He ordered pressure.”
“Stop cleaning words.”
Richard looked at him.
“Yes.”
Nathan leaned back.
“Julian wanted to expose him.”
“Yes.”
“Arthur ordered the car bombing.”
“No.”
Nathan’s jaw tightened.
“Then who?”
“The Table voted only to exile him.”
Nathan stared.
“Exile.”
“Remove him from the family. Strip his access. Make him disappear.”
“And the bomb?”
“Someone escalated.”
“Marcus Reed.”
“No.”
“Richard.”
“I don’t know.”
Nathan studied him.
Maybe true.
Maybe not.
“What happened after?”
“Julian survived.”
“You knew.”
“Eventually.”
“Where did he go?”
“Arthur hid him.”
Nathan stopped.
“What?”
Richard looked almost tired.
“Arthur did not expect the bombing.”
“My father hid Julian?”
“For months.”
“Why?”
“To find who changed the order.”
“And?”
“He never did.”
Nathan’s mind shifted.
His father was still guilty.
Not of the exact death Nathan believed.
Of something quieter.
Still monstrous.
“Then why let everyone believe Julian died?”
“Because once the Table knew he survived, whoever escalated would try again.”
Nathan laughed darkly.
“Protection.”
Richard said nothing.
“Where did Julian go after?”
“Gone.”
“Who helped?”
“Thomas Miller.”
Grace’s father.
Everything returned to Thomas.
Richard continued.
“Thomas believed the Table had become uncontrollable.”
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
“Then why stay?”
Richard looked toward his hands.
“Because men rarely leave systems that once made them powerful.”
The honesty made Nathan more suspicious, not less.
“What did Aaron discover?”
Richard’s face tightened.
“He discovered the Table had been reactivated after Arthur’s death.”
“By who?”
“I thought Marcus Reed.”
“But?”
“Aaron believed someone older.”
“Name.”
Richard hesitated.
Nathan waited.
“Edwin Cole.”
Nathan stared.
Edwin was Arthur’s older cousin.
Eighty-one now.
Family patriarch in title only.
Rarely left his country estate.
Nathan called him Uncle Edwin.
Everyone did.
“What makes you think Edwin?”
“Aaron saw Marcus meeting him.”
“Anything else?”
“Edwin knew the original rules.”
“Did Aaron confront him?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Two weeks before he died.”
Nathan’s voice dropped.
“And you let him?”
Richard’s face twisted.
“I didn’t know until afterward.”
A father’s failure.
Real or performed.
Nathan could not tell.
“Who killed Aaron?”
Richard looked at Julian’s ring.
“I believed Julian.”
“And now?”
“I think Aaron found the current Black Table.”
“Current members?”
“I know only one.”
Nathan stared.
“Who?”
May you like
Richard looked directly at him.
“Victoria.”
