Chapter 1 - The Voice on the Phone That Made the Most Feared Man in the Country Stop EverythingThe phone nearly slipped from my hand.
“Emma, lock your bedroom door,” I whispered.
“Push your desk against it and stay away from the window.”
“I already did.”
Her voice was so small that it broke something inside me.
I stood alone in a Chicago hotel room, five hundred miles from my daughter, watching rain stream down the glass.
My suitcase was still open on the bed.
My conference badge lay beside it.
My laptop was running a presentation I'd never finish.
None of it mattered.
My daughter was crying.
And I wasn't there.
“Where's your father?”
“In the living room with Wayne.”
“Who is Wayne?”
“Daddy's friend.”
I closed my eyes.
I knew Wayne.
Wayne Cross.
Mark's college friend.
A man who had always made me uncomfortable.
A man who laughed too loudly.
A man who believed discipline meant humiliation.
A man I had specifically asked Mark never to leave alone with Emma.
Apparently, Mark had forgotten.
Or decided my opinion didn't matter anymore.
“Where did Wayne hit you?”
“My arm.”
Her voice cracked.
“He got mad because I spilled his drink.”
“Are you bleeding?”
“No.”
“Can you move your fingers?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
“Listen to me.”
“You need to stay behind the desk.”
“I am.”
“Do not open the door for anyone.”
“I won't.”
Heavy footsteps sounded outside her room.
Emma stopped breathing.
I heard a fist strike the door.
“Emma!”
Wayne.
His voice was loud.
Angry.
“Who are you talking to?”
My stomach turned.
Emma whispered:
“Mommy.”
I put my hand against my mouth.
Then I heard Mark.
“Open the door and stop causing trouble.”
Emma cried.
“Daddy, please make him go away.”
Mark sighed.
Not with anger.
With annoyance.
Like her fear was an inconvenience.
“You should have behaved.”
Something inside me went cold.
“Daddy…”
The call ended.
I immediately called Mark.
He answered on the third ring.
“What?”
“What have you done?”
He laughed.
“Here we go again.”
“Wayne hit our daughter.”
“Emma lies for attention.”
“I heard him outside her room.”
“You weren't here.”
“And I’m standing right here,” Mark snapped.
“You're five hundred miles away.”
“Stop pretending you know what’s happening in my house.”
Then Wayne's voice drifted through the phone.
“Tell her to come home.”
“I'll teach her the same lesson.”
Mark laughed.
He actually laughed.
I couldn't breathe.
I hung up.
My hands shook.
I looked at my contacts.
One name had been sitting there for nine years.
I had never deleted it.
Never called it.
Never admitted why I still had it.
Adrian Vale.
Nine years ago, Adrian had been the most dangerous man in the country.
Newspapers called him a businessman.
Government officials called him an elusive financier.
Police called him a person of interest.
Men in Chicago called him the king of the underworld.
But I remembered a different Adrian.
The man who had once waited outside my apartment in the rain because I had told him I was afraid to walk home alone.
The man who had never touched me without permission.
The man who had loved me quietly.
The man I left because I wanted a normal life.
He had looked at me the night I married Mark.
He hadn't stopped me.
He had simply said:
“If you ever need me, Jessica, call.”
I had chosen normal.
Tonight, normal had failed my daughter.
I pressed his number.
He answered before the second ring.
“Jessica.”
Hearing my name in his voice nearly destroyed the last of my control.
“My daughter is in danger.”
Silence.
His voice changed.
“Who touched her?”
“Mark’s friend.”
“Name.”
“Wayne.”
“How long?”
“Tonight.”
“Where?”
I gave him the address.
He did not ask another question.
He spoke to someone beside him.
“Seal every road around that house.”
A man's voice answered.
“Already done.”
I froze.
“Adrian…”
“Keep your phone on.”
“How do you know where they are?”
Silence.
“Adrian.”
“I said keep your phone on.”
Then Emma's name appeared on my screen.
Incoming call.
I answered immediately.
“Emma?”
Her breathing was fast.
“Mommy…”
“I'm here.”
“Black cars are outside.”
My heart stopped.
“How many?”
“I don't know.”
“Are they police?”
“No.”
A crash sounded downstairs.
Men began shouting.
Then Wayne screamed a name.
“Adrian Vale!”
My blood turned cold.
I looked at the phone still connected to Adrian.
He was breathing calmly.
“What is happening?” I whispered.
“I don't know yet.”
“But they're using your name.”
“I know.”
Another crash.
Emma screamed.
“Mommy!”
“Stay in your room!”
“Don't open the door!”
I heard a man's voice through her phone.
“Miss Emma?”
“Who are you?”
The voice softened.
“We're here to get you out.”
Emma started crying harder.
“How do I know you're telling the truth?”
“Because your mother called us.”
I closed my eyes.
Adrian had sent them.
Or so I thought.
Then another man's voice exploded from downstairs.
“Take the stairs!”
“Search every room!”
“Move!”
Adrian spoke through my phone.
“Jessica.”
“Yes?”
“Listen carefully.”
His voice was so calm it terrified me.
“Do not come here.”
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
“She is my daughter.”
“And she's safer if you stay where you are.”
“I can't sit in a hotel while men break into her house.”
“I know.”
“Then let me come.”
“No.”
I heard something in his voice.
Fear.
Not for himself.
For me.
“Adrian.”
“Yes?”
“If anything happens to her…”
“It won't.”
“You can't know that.”
“I can.”
“How?”
“Because I am already there.”
I stopped breathing.
“What?”
He didn't answer.
The line remained open.
Then the bedroom door behind Emma shattered.
She screamed.
A man shouted:
“Ma'am, step away from the child!”
Then another voice came through the phone.
“Down!”
Gunfire exploded.
Emma screamed.
I dropped into the chair.
“Emma!”
Static.
More shouting.
Then silence.
I couldn't breathe.
“Adrian!”
Nothing.
“Adrian!”
Finally, his voice.
“She's safe.”
I burst into tears.
“Where is she?”
“With my people.”
“And Mark?”
“He's alive.”
“Wayne?”
Silence.
“What happened to Wayne?”
Adrian's voice became colder.
“He won't touch your daughter again.”
I knew what that meant.
I stood.
“I’m coming to Chicago.”
“No.”
“I am.”
“Jessica.”
“You don't get to tell me where I can go.”
He sighed.
For the first time, he sounded almost human.
“Fine.”
“When?”
“Now.”
The next morning, I arrived in Chicago.
Adrian's private plane was waiting.
The door opened.
He stood at the bottom of the stairs.
Nine years disappeared.
He looked older.
Harder.
But his eyes were exactly the same.
He walked toward me.
“Where is she?”
“Safe.”
“Take me to her.”
“You haven't asked how I got here.”
“I don't care.”
His jaw tightened.
“Good.”
He reached for my suitcase.
I pulled it away.
“I can carry it.”
“I know.”
Our eyes met.
Something passed between us.
Then he looked toward the cars.
“She asked for you.”
My heart shattered.
“Take me to her.”
The car moved through Chicago.
I stared out the window.
“Why did you help me?”
“Because you called.”
“That isn't enough.”
“It is for me.”
“You disappeared.”
“So did you.”
“I got married.”
“I know.”
“I had a child.”
“I know.”
I turned.
“You knew?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
He looked out the window.
“I never stopped protecting people connected to you.”
I couldn't answer.
Then his phone rang.
He listened.
His expression hardened.
“What?”
A pause.
“Where?”
Another pause.
“Bring him.”
I stared.
“Who?”
“Mark.”
My blood froze.
“Why?”
“He has something.”
“What?”
Adrian looked at me.
“Your daughter's medical file.”
I frowned.
“She isn't sick.”
“I know.”
“Then why does he have it?”
“He doesn't.”
“Then who?”
He looked toward the windshield.
“Someone has been building a file on Emma for years.”
I stopped breathing.
“Why?”
Adrian didn't answer.
The car reached the safe house.
Emma ran out.
“Mommy!”
I barely had time to open the door before she threw herself into my arms.
I dropped to my knees.
I held her.
She was crying.
So was I.
“I’m sorry.”
“You don't have to be.”
“I should have come home.”
“You did.”
“I should never have left you.”
She held my face.
“Mommy?”
“Yes?”
“There was a man downstairs.”
“What man?”
“He knew your nickname.”
“What did he call you?”
She whispered:
“Birdie.”
My heart stopped.
Only one person had ever called me that.
Adrian.
And he hadn't called me Birdie in nine years.
I turned toward him.
He looked shaken.
For the first time since I had known him, Adrian Vale seemed genuinely afraid.
“Who taught her that name?”
I asked.
He looked at Emma.
Then at me.
“I don't know.”
Behind us, a car door slammed.
Mark was being brought inside.
His face was pale.
He looked at me.
Then at Adrian.
And whispered:
“Jessica…”
I stepped forward.
“Tell me the truth.”
“About what?”
“Why has someone been watching my daughter since she was born?”
Mark looked at Adrian.
Then at Emma.
Then his face collapsed.
“Because she isn't the only thing they've been watching.”
I froze.
“What does that mean?”
May you like
Mark swallowed.
“They've been waiting for you to come back to Adrian.”
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