Chapter 2 - Seven Days Under His Roof
I expected Adrian Kane's protection to feel like prison.
It did.
Just a very expensive prison.
By noon, I was in a black SUV with tinted windows while two security vehicles followed behind.
My phone was taken.
My laptop was taken.
My employee badge was taken.
Every item was catalogued.
I objected to all of it.
Adrian ignored me.
“You said I could leave.”
“You can.”
“Then why are you keeping my things?”
“To make sure nobody tracks you.”
“I need my phone.”
“Buy a new one.”
“I have all my contacts.”
“We'll transfer them.”
“That's not the point.”
He looked at me.
“What is?”
“I don't like being controlled.”
He stared out the window.
“Neither do I.”
I laughed.
“You could have fooled me.”
A faint smile touched his mouth.
It disappeared almost immediately.
We drove north.
The mansion appeared beyond iron gates.
It was enormous.
Stone.
Glass.
Black gates.
Security cameras.
A fountain shaped like a winged horse.
I stared.
“You live here?”
“Yes.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“You're welcome to dislike it.”
“I do.”
“Good.”
The main doors opened.
People stood waiting.
A house manager.
Two women from the kitchen.
Four guards.
And a woman in her fifties who stepped forward.
“Mr. Kane.”
“Mrs. Alvarez.”
He nodded.
Then looked at me.
“Ava is staying here.”
The older woman smiled kindly.
“You're welcome.”
I managed a nervous smile.
“Thank you.”
Adrian turned to leave.
“Wait.”
He stopped.
“Where am I sleeping?”
“Guest suite.”
“Where are you?”
His eyebrow lifted.
“What?”
“If this is protection, shouldn't I know where you are?”
A strange look crossed his face.
“I'm in the east wing.”
“And security?”
“Everywhere.”
He walked away.
Mrs. Alvarez smiled.
“He doesn't usually bring anyone here.”
“I'm not anyone.”
She laughed.
“That may be why.”
My guest room was bigger than my apartment.
I sat on the bed.
Stared at the ceiling.
Then cried.
I didn't know why.
Fear.
Exhaustion.
Anger.
Maybe everything.
That evening, Adrian found me in the library.
“You skipped dinner.”
“I'm not hungry.”
“You need to eat.”
“I'll survive.”
He sat across from me.
“You hate me.”
“I barely know you.”
“You're doing well so far.”
I laughed despite myself.
He looked surprised.
Then his expression softened.
“I wasn't joking.”
“I know.”
He handed me a glass of water.
“Tell me about your father.”
My smile disappeared.
“I don't know what this has to do with him.”
“You said his name wasn't on your employment background.”
“I never used his name.”
“Why?”
“Because he died when I was twelve.”
“Was he a criminal?”
I stiffened.
“No.”
“Was he involved with the Kane family?”
“I don't know.”
“Your father was Thomas Bennett.”
My blood stopped.
I hadn't told him.
“How do you know?”
Adrian watched me.
“I told you. We've been investigating the people around you.”
“That isn't enough.”
He looked away.
“My father knew yours.”
I stared.
“How?”
“Business.”
“What kind?”
He didn't answer.
I stood.
“Adrian.”
“Illegal logistics.”
The room became silent.
“My father was a criminal?”
“He was involved in things he regretted.”
“Then why did he die?”
Adrian's face changed.
“He didn't.”
I froze.
“What?”
“His death was staged.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“You're lying.”
“I have proof.”
He opened a file.
There was a photograph.
My father.
Older.
Standing beside Adrian's father.
Alive.
Six months after the date of his supposed death.
I couldn't breathe.
“Where was this taken?”
“Chicago.”
“When?”
“Fifteen years ago.”
My knees shook.
“He was alive.”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
Adrian lowered his voice.
“He disappeared after stealing something.”
“What?”
“A ledger.”
“What kind?”
“Names. Accounts. Transactions.”
“Why would he steal it?”
“To stop a war.”
I stared at him.
“How do you know?”
“My father told me.”
“Before he died?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't anyone tell me?”
“Because your father made a deal.”
“With who?”
“Me.”
I blinked.
“That's impossible.”
“He asked me to protect his family if anything happened to him.”
“My father trusted you?”
“No.”
Adrian paused.
“He trusted what I owed him.”
That sentence chilled me.
“What did he give you?”
“Something worth killing for.”
“What?”
Adrian looked toward the door.
Then back at me.
“The key to the ledger.”
I stared.
“Where is it?”
“We don't know.”
He leaned forward.
“But someone believes you have it.”
My heart pounded.
“I don't.”
“I know.”
“Then why am I here?”
“Because they don't.”
He stood.
“You are the only thing they can use to find it.”
That night, I couldn't sleep.
Around midnight, I heard footsteps.
I opened the door.
Adrian stood in the hallway.
“What's wrong?”
“Someone was outside my window.”
He looked at the darkness.
Security moved instantly.
He entered my room.
“Stay here.”
“What are you doing?”
“Checking.”
He came back ten minutes later.
“No one.”
I exhaled.
Then he noticed something.
My old necklace.
A small silver pendant shaped like a star.
“Where did you get that?”
“My mother.”
“Open it.”
“It doesn't open.”
He took it.
Turned it over.
There was a tiny seam I had never noticed.
He pressed it.
The pendant opened.
Inside was a miniature photograph.
My father.
And a handwritten number.
Adrian's face went pale.
“What?”
He stared at it.
“This is the key.”
I frowned.
“To what?”
He looked at me.
“The ledger.”
Then every light in the mansion went out.
Security alarms exploded.
Gunfire erupted outside.
Adrian grabbed my hand.
“Down.”
We hit the floor.
Glass shattered.
Someone had breached the east gate.
Adrian pulled me behind him.
He drew his gun.
And I realized something.
May you like
The people attacking the house weren't trying to kill Adrian.
They were trying to get me.
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