Chapter 2 - The Woman Who Should Have Been Dead
Adrien ordered the estate locked down before midnight.
Nobody entered.
Nobody left.
The guests were moved into secure rooms while security teams searched every corridor, garden, rooftop, service entrance, and vehicle.
Amelia sat in a private office with a glass of water in her hands.
She couldn't stop thinking about the bracelet.
Silver.
Thin.
Engraved with a tiny crescent.
She had seen it years ago.
Once.
In a newspaper photograph.
Elena Valente.
Adrien's younger sister.
Declared dead after a car crash five years earlier.
The funeral had been private.
Adrien never spoke about her.
Amelia had never asked.
Now she wished she had.
The door opened.
Adrien walked inside.
The jacket of his tuxedo was gone.
His sleeves were rolled up.
There was blood on his right hand.
Not his.
Amelia stood.
"Are you hurt?"
"No."
"That's someone else's blood."
"I know."
He closed the door.
"Tell me exactly what you saw."
She did.
He listened without interruption.
When she finished, he remained silent.
"What aren't you telling me?" Amelia asked.
His eyes lifted.
"What?"
"You're not surprised."
"I am."
"No."
She shook her head.
"You look angry, but not surprised."
Adrien leaned against the desk.
"Because five years ago, I received evidence that Elena's death wasn't an accident."
Amelia stared.
"What kind of evidence?"
"Enough to know someone wanted me to believe she was dead."
"Why didn't you tell the police?"
"Because the police were already compromised."
She felt cold.
"The gala attack..."
"Wasn't meant to kill me."
"Then what was it meant to do?"
His gaze hardened.
"Find out who would protect you."
She blinked.
"Me?"
"They watched you before the shooting."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
He pushed away from the desk.
"But I intend to find out."
Amelia's stomach tightened.
"You think I'm connected?"
"No."
"Then why?"
"Because someone has spent six months building a file on you."
Her mouth went dry.
"What?"
"I didn't know about it until tonight."
He handed her a folder.
Her hands shook as she opened it.
Inside were photographs.
Amelia leaving work.
Amelia entering her apartment building.
Amelia shopping.
Amelia visiting her mother's grave.
Someone had been watching her.
For months.
"Who took these?"
"We're trying to determine that."
She looked up.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I needed to know whether warning you would put you in greater danger."
"And now?"
"Now I know you're already in it."
Silence.
She looked at the photographs again.
"Why me?"
Adrien didn't answer.
"Adrien."
He closed his eyes briefly.
"Because you were hired by my uncle."
Amelia frowned.
"Victor Valente?"
"Yes."
She swallowed.
Victor Valente was the older brother of Adrien's father.
He was charming.
Polished.
Generous.
Everybody loved him.
Almost everyone trusted him.
Adrien didn't.
"When I hired you, I assumed you were part of his political network," Adrien said.
"I've never worked for him."
"I know that now."
"Then what changed?"
Adrien looked at her.
"You."
She frowned.
"What does that mean?"
"You've been inside this house for eight months and never once asked about the family."
"You told me not to."
"I wanted to see whether you'd obey."
"I did."
"Until yesterday."
He glanced toward the door.
"The poster."
Amelia groaned.
"Please don't."
"I liked it."
"You enjoyed humiliating me."
"I didn't humiliate you."
"You watched me kiss a photograph of you."
"A poster."
"That distinction is not emotionally comforting."
He smiled.
She hated that she loved the expression.
Then the humor disappeared.
"Amelia, I need you to answer something."
"What?"
"Have you ever met my sister?"
"No."
"Are you certain?"
"Yes."
"Think carefully."
She did.
Nothing.
Then a memory surfaced.
A woman.
Years ago.
At a shelter where Amelia volunteered during college.
A frightened woman with bruised hands.
She had called herself Lena.
Not Elena.
Lena.
She had disappeared after one week.
Amelia remembered the silver bracelet.
Her heart stopped.
"Adrien."
He saw her expression change.
"What?"
"I may have seen her."
He moved instantly.
"Where?"
"Five years ago."
"Where?"
"A women's shelter."
"When?"
"Months before the funeral."
Adrien's face hardened.
"Tell me everything."
Amelia closed her eyes.
The woman had been terrified.
She had barely spoken.
She remembered one sentence.
They'll kill him if they find me.
Adrien stared.
"Did she say my name?"
"No."
"Did she give you anything?"
"No."
"Did she know who you were?"
"I don't think so."
He turned away.
For several seconds he said nothing.
Then his phone rang.
He answered.
"Yes."
A pause.
His expression changed.
"You're sure?"
Another pause.
"Bring him alive."
He ended the call.
"What happened?" Amelia asked.
"We caught someone trying to leave the estate."
"Who?"
Adrien looked at her.
"Victor's chief security officer."
Amelia's stomach twisted.
"Was he involved?"
"He was carrying photographs of you."
She went cold.
"And?"
Adrien stepped closer.
"He confessed to following you."
"Why?"
"He says he was ordered to."
"By Victor?"
"No."
"Then who?"
May you like
Adrien's voice dropped.
"Elena."
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