Chapter 3 - The Red Door
By the time they reached Vivian's building, firefighters were still pouring water through the broken windows.
Smoke rose into the night.
The apartment she had built for four years was gone.
Her books.
Her photographs.
Her mother's jewelry.
The box containing childhood things.
Everything.
Vivian stood behind the police barricade staring at the blackened windows.
She expected grief.
Instead, she felt something colder.
Someone had wanted something inside that apartment.
Adrian stood beside her.
“I'm sorry.”
She looked at him.
“Don't.”
“I mean it.”
She swallowed.
“Was anyone hurt?”
“No.”
“Then I'm fine.”
He looked at her.
“You don't have to be.”
“It's just stuff.”
“No.”
He stared at the fire.
“People say that when they're trying not to break.”
She glanced at him.
“You're surprisingly observant for a criminal.”
He smiled faintly.
“I have to be.”
A detective approached.
“Ms. Hayes?”
“Yes?”
“Your building manager says the fire began in your apartment.”
“Electrical?”
The detective shook his head.
“Accelerant.”
Vivian closed her eyes.
Adrian asked:
“Did you find anything unusual?”
The detective looked at him.
“And you are?”
“Someone helping her.”
The detective recognized him.
His posture changed.
“Mr. DeLuca.”
“Anything unusual?”
The detective hesitated.
“We found a symbol on the floor.”
“What symbol?”
“A black rose.”
Adrian's expression hardened.
Vivian saw it.
“You know it.”
“Yes.”
“What does it mean?”
“It means the people hunting you are no longer hiding.”
He walked her back toward the car.
“I need you to tell me everything you remember about your childhood.”
“Why?”
“Because the red door matters.”
“I told you I only remember fragments.”
“Fragments can kill people.”
They drove to a private safehouse.
It was an old brownstone on the North Side.
Unlike Adrian's penthouse, it felt lived in.
Books.
Plants.
Old furniture.
A piano.
A kitchen with actual dishes.
Vivian looked around.
“This is yours?”
“No.”
“Whose?”
“My mother's.”
He saw her expression.
“She lived here before she died.”
“You kept it?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because it was the only place my father never searched.”
Vivian looked at him.
“Your father was searching your mother's house?”
“My parents were at war before anyone knew it.”
He walked toward a cabinet.
Pulled out an old wooden box.
Inside were papers.
Photographs.
Letters.
And a small silver coin.
Vivian stopped.
“That looks like mine.”
Adrian held it toward her.
“That's impossible.”
She reached into her bag.
She had no idea why.
Her fingers found something hard.
She pulled it out.
Her mother's old coin.
Same design.
Same black rose.
Same number.
Seven.
Adrian placed his beside hers.
They fit together.
Perfectly.
Vivian stared.
“They're halves.”
“Yes.”
“What do they open?”
“I don't know.”
A sound came from upstairs.
Both froze.
Adrian drew his gun.
He pushed Vivian behind him.
Footsteps.
Slow.
Measured.
Then a voice.
“Adrian.”
The man walked down the stairs.
Gabriel.
He lowered his weapon.
“It's me.”
Adrian glared.
“You're supposed to be outside.”
“I was.”
“What happened?”
“We found something.”
He placed a tablet on the table.
A live security feed appeared.
A woman was entering a warehouse.
Vivian leaned closer.
She recognized her.
“That's Thomas's assistant.”
Adrian nodded.
“She met Dominic Luces tonight.”
The screen showed the woman handing over a folder.
The camera zoomed.
Vivian couldn't read everything.
But one line was clear.
SUBJECT: VIVIAN HAYES.
She felt sick.
“Why is my name there?”
Adrian answered quietly.
“Because you've never been the target.”
“What?”
“You're the key.”
“The key to what?”
He pointed at the two coins.
“To the Black Rose's hidden vault.”
Vivian stared.
“What vault?”
“The one my father died trying to find.”
“So my mother hid it?”
“She helped hide it.”
“And I'm the key?”
“Apparently.”
Vivian laughed bitterly.
“All these years I've been living paycheck to paycheck while apparently half the underworld was looking for me?”
“Yes.”
“That is insane.”
“Welcome to my world.”
She looked at him.
“You knew more than you told me.”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“The first time I saw you.”
“Why?”
“Because you have your mother's eyes.”
Vivian looked away.
Adrian stepped closer.
“Vivian.”
She didn't answer.
“I didn't bring you here because of the kiss.”
“Then why?”
“Because when you kissed me, my men saw your face.”
She stared at him.
“What does that mean?”
“It means someone else saw you too.”
“Who?”
“Dominic Luces.”
Adrian's expression darkened.
“He recognized you.”
Vivian's stomach dropped.
“From where?”
Adrian pulled out one final photograph.
It was a childhood photograph.
Vivian.
Her mother.
Dominic Luces.
And behind them—
a red door.
Vivian's memory returned all at once.
She was six.
Her mother was crying.
Dominic was kneeling.
A man stood behind him.
A silver ring.
A black rose tattoo.
And a voice said:
“Your name isn't Vivian.”
She gasped.
Adrian caught her before she fell.
“What did you remember?”
She looked into his eyes.
“The man behind Dominic.”
“Who?”
She whispered a name.
“Elliot Kane.”
Adrian went completely still.
Gabriel stared at him.
“Boss?”
Adrian's face had become frighteningly calm.
“That name died ten years ago.”
May you like
Vivian looked at him.
“Apparently he didn't.”
