Chapter 3 - Adrien Took Me to His Father’s Hidden Safe House—and I Discovered My Birth Certificate Was a LieThe Volkov mansion stood on a private stretch of land outside Chicago.
It wasn't what I expected.
I had imagined something dark and gothic.
Instead, it was modern.
Glass.
Steel.
Stone.
Security cameras everywhere.
Men stood at every entrance.
Adrien walked through the house as though he had lived there his entire life.
I followed.
“Do you always abduct people after dinner?” I asked.
“You're not abducted.”
“How do you know?”
“You got into the car willingly.”
“I was overwhelmed.”
“That still counts.”
I almost smiled.
Almost.
He noticed.
His eyes softened for half a second.
Then the expression disappeared.
We entered an office.
An older man stood beside the fireplace.
He had silver hair and a cane.
“Adrien.”
“Martin.”
The man looked at me.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then he whispered,
“Luka's eyes.”
I froze.
“You knew him.”
“I was his attorney.”
Adrien closed the door.
Martin handed me a sealed envelope.
“Your father left this for you.”
“My father?”
“Luka.”
My hands shook.
I opened it.
Inside was a letter.
The handwriting was careful.
My eyes blurred.
Elena,
If you're reading this, then something has gone terribly wrong—or terribly right.
I swallowed.
Adrien stood behind me.
I continued reading.
Your mother believes she can hide you from the Whitmores. She cannot hide you from the truth forever.
The Whitmores are not your family by blood, but blood is not the only danger.
There is money in an account nobody knows exists.
Martin has the key.
If I do not return, protect my daughter.
My throat closed.
“My daughter.”
I touched the words.
Adrien looked away.
Martin spoke softly.
“Your father loved you very much.”
“Then why didn't he take me?”
“He tried.”
“What stopped him?”
Martin hesitated.
“Your grandfather.”
Adrien's expression hardened.
“Tell her everything.”
Martin looked tired.
“Your grandfather wasn't just influential. He had people everywhere.”
“Including police?”
“Yes.”
“Politicians?”
“Yes.”
“My family?”
“Yes.”
I stared at the letter.
“What happened the night Luka died?”
Martin sat.
“Luka discovered that Richard Whitmore had stolen millions from his company.”
My father's name made my stomach twist.
“He confronted him.”
“And?”
“Your grandfather used the confrontation to accuse Luka of embezzlement.”
Adrien's jaw tightened.
“Luka was framed.”
“Yes.”
I looked at him.
“Why didn't anyone expose the truth?”
Martin stared at the floor.
“Because the person who could have exposed it was murdered.”
“Who?”
“Your father's accountant.”
I felt cold.
“Was that why Luka ran?”
“No.”
Martin looked at me.
“Luka stayed because he wanted to clear his name.”
“And my mother?”
“She helped him.”
Adrien's eyes moved to the window.
“Until she realized she was pregnant.”
Martin continued.
“She was afraid your grandfather would take you.”
“So she pretended I was dead.”
“Yes.”
“Why did Richard marry her?”
“Protection.”
I laughed.
“Protection.”
Martin nodded sadly.
“Richard loved your mother.”
“No.”
The word came out sharper than expected.
“He loved what she represented.”
Adrien looked at me.
I realized he understood exactly what I meant.
Martin reached into a drawer.
He removed another document.
“This is your original birth certificate.”
I stared at it.
My name.
My mother's name.
And under father:
Luka Volkov.
I sat down.
My entire identity had been rewritten.
For twenty-three years, Elena Whitmore had been a carefully constructed lie.
I wasn't a forgotten Whitmore daughter.
I was Luka Volkov's daughter.
Adrien's family.
My family.
A family I had been taught to fear without ever knowing why.
I whispered,
“Why did Adrien choose me?”
Martin looked at him.
Adrien said nothing.
I looked at him.
“You knew before tonight.”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Three months.”
My chest tightened.
“You've known about me for three months?”
“Yes.”
“And you still agreed to marry Victoria?”
“I didn't know whether the documents were genuine.”
“Then why come tonight?”
Adrien's voice was low.
“To confirm them.”
“And now?”
“I have.”
I stared at him.
“So this whole time, Victoria was irrelevant.”
“She was part of the arrangement your father offered.”
“And I was what?”
His eyes met mine.
“The reason I accepted.”
I looked away.
“That makes me feel worse.”
“Why?”
“Because I don't know if you see me or just my father's blood.”
Adrien stepped closer.
“I see a woman who survived a family that tried to erase her.”
I didn't know how to respond.
Nobody had ever said anything like that to me.
He continued.
“And I see someone who doesn't understand how valuable she is.”
“I don't care about money.”
“I didn't say money.”
Silence.
Then Martin interrupted.
“There is one more thing.”
He handed Adrien a photograph.
Adrien stared at it.
His expression changed.
“What?”
I asked.
He turned the photograph toward me.
It showed a hospital hallway.
A younger version of my mother stood outside a nursery.
Beside her was another woman.
The woman was Victoria's biological mother.
I frowned.
“That can't be.”
Adrien looked at Martin.
“What is this?”
Martin answered,
“The hospital records suggest something else.”
“What?”
Martin looked at me.
“You were not the only child born that night.”
I stopped breathing.
“Twins?”
He nodded.
Adrien looked at the photograph again.
“Then where is the other child?”
Martin's answer was barely audible.
“Missing.”
The room became completely silent.
My mother had told me I was a mistake.
The hospital had said I was dead.
My family had built an entire life around Victoria.
And now there was one more question.
Who had been born beside me?
I looked at Adrien.
He looked just as stunned.
Then his phone rang.
He answered.
“Volkov.”
A man's voice came through.
I could not hear the words.
Adrien's expression became murderous.
“Say that again.”
A pause.
Then he said,
“Where?”
His eyes moved toward me.
“What happened?”
He hung up.
“What?”
He stood.
“The hospital archive was broken into.”
“So?”
“They were looking for your birth records.”
My heart dropped.
“Who?”
Adrien's eyes met mine.
“We don't know.”
Then he added,
“But they left a message.”
“What message?”
Adrien looked toward Martin.
May you like
Martin's face had gone pale.
“He said the dead daughter should have stayed dead.”
Related Stories
