Lara's first instinct was to run, but Cem's hand locked around her wrist.
"Wait," the man said, raising his hands. Against the dark waters of the Bosphorus, nothing was visible but his silhouette. "No need to flee. Mr. Viktor doesn't want you harmed."
Mr. Viktor. The words echoed in Lara's head, squeezing her chest. The father she'd believed dead for twelve years wasn't just alive—he was still controlling her life.
"Who the hell do you think you are?" Cem's voice was dangerously calm, his body coiled like a barrier before Lara.
The man stepped forward, light from the dock illuminating his face. Fortyish, with bland features, the forgettable type—perfect for a messenger. "My name doesn't matter. But I have something for you."
Lara pushed past Cem's arm. "Where's my father?"
"Safe. Which you won't be if what Aylin told Interpol reaches the wrong ears." The man withdrew an elegant envelope from his pocket. "Mr. Viktor explains everything here. And makes an offer."
"I've never accepted anything from my father," Lara said, though her voice came out less certain than she'd intended.
"Yet," the man corrected, placing the envelope on the dock's stone pavement. "Tomorrow night, you'll recall the auction in Sultanahmet. The original Copernicus Codex will be there."
Lara's heart stopped. "How—Aylin burned—"
"Aylin burned a ridiculous copy." A ghost of a smile touched the man's lips. "Mr. Viktor stole the original ten years ago. What was at the academy was always a fake."
Cem cursed while Lara stood too shocked to make a sound. All this time—all their planning, the risks—they'd been chasing an illusion.
"Why tell us this?" Cem asked.
"Because tomorrow night, that codex will fall into the wrong hands. Russian mafia, perhaps Chinese collectors. Mr. Viktor wants you to acquire it." The man retreated toward the shadows. "The envelope explains everything. I suggest you read it."
Then he vanished, as if he'd never been there at all.
Lara reached for the envelope but Cem snatched it first. "This is a trap."
"I know." Lara clenched her trembling hands into fists. "But my father's alive. For twelve years, and he didn't say a single word to me."
"He had good reasons for that."
"Or he's using me. Like he always did." The bitter words spilled from Lara's mouth. All these years, she'd mourned, blamed herself. And her father had been there all along, in the shadows, watching her.
Cem opened the envelope, examining its contents in the dock's light. Lara watched his jaw tighten, his eyes darken then widen.
"What does it say?"
"A plan. Detailed, insane—" He stopped, lifting his eyes to meet hers. In them was something Lara had never seen before. Fear. "And an explanation for why your father disappeared."
Lara grabbed the papers, seeing her father's familiar handwriting. Each word stabbed into her chest like a dagger:
*My dear daughter,*
*Everything you think you know is a lie. That night in Russia, more than a codex was stolen. A network was exposed—involving some of Europe's most powerful families, engaged in things far darker than art trafficking.*
*Cem's father, Kemal Kara, was part of this network. I was marked for death for exposing him. That's why I had to disappear.*
*Aylin is part of it too. She always has been.*
*And now, my dear, it's time for you to become part of it—not of the network, but of its destruction.*
Lara's hands shook. She continued reading:
*If you acquire the Copernicus Codex tomorrow night, you won't just be saving one of history's most valuable artifacts. Hidden within—woven into the codex pages—are names, accounts, documents that will expose the entire network.*
*But you must be careful. However close Cem Kara makes you feel, remember: he is his father's son. Blood runs deeper than lies.*
*I trust you to make the right choice.*
*Forever yours,*
*V.K.*
Lara dropped the papers, trying to steady her mind. "This is—this is insane. You—your father—"
"Was a monster?" Cem's voice was flat, expressionless. "Maybe he was. Maybe Viktor's right. Maybe I'm—"
"No." Lara lunged forward, taking Cem's face between her hands, forcing him to look at her. "I know you. You're not responsible for your father's mistakes."
"Aren't I?" Cem's eyes were dark, filled with torment. "Lara, there's a reason I work in the underground market. It wasn't just for money. I was investigating. Trying to find out who killed my father."
Lara's breath caught. "And—"
"And Viktor's name was always there. In the background, untouchable." Cem took her hands, pulling them from his face but not releasing them. "If what your father says is true, then—"
"Then everything changes," Lara finished. Her chest tightened, she felt like she was suffocating.
The Bosphorus waters lapped at the shore, monotonous, indifferent. Above them, the academy's lights still burned—Interpol no doubt interrogating Aylin, examining the fire's remains, building invisible cases.
"We have to go tomorrow night," Cem said finally. "Whether your father's right or wrong, if that codex is real—"
"It's a weapon." Lara closed her eyes. "A weapon that could be used against both of us."
"Or the only thing that can save us both."
Lara opened her eyes, looking at Cem—this man who'd lied to her, manipulated her, but also saved her, shown her truth, seen her in ways the darkness inside her feared, and still stayed.
"Can I trust you?" she whispered.
Cem's jaw tightened. "I don't know. But Lara—" He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to hers. "You have to ask yourself the same thing."
It was true. Her father's letter, her blood ties, the secrets she'd carried all these years—they all stood between them like ghosts.
"We go together," Lara said finally. "But if this is a trap—"
"We both lose." Cem pulled back but kept holding her hands. "I know."
Lara's phone buzzed. She looked at the screen and her blood froze.
A message from Aylin: *Don't trust your professor. My father killed his father but on Viktor's orders. He's planning to leave you dead tomorrow night. Run. Please.*
Cem tried to see the screen but Lara turned the phone away, feeling her heart slam wildly in her chest.
Two warnings. Two opposing stories. And in eighteen hours, she'd learn the truth—if she survived that long.
"Lara?" Cem's voice was tense, suspicious. "What was that message?"
Lara looked at him—this man, this stranger, this savior or destroyer—and realized how easy it would be to lie.
But instead, she said: "Aylin says my father killed yours."
Cem's face turned to stone, his eyes transforming from ice to naked, raw pain, then—
In the distance, in one of the academy's dark windows, a light turned on.
They both turned, looked.
And Lara could have sworn she saw Viktor Özkan—her father—staring back at her through the darkness.