Chapter 2 - The Name I Buried
Adrian's car was silent.
Not peaceful.
Silent in the way a room becomes silent when everyone inside it is waiting for something to explode.
I sat in the back seat beside him.
Two men occupied the front.
Neither spoke.
My hands were still shaking.
Adrian noticed.
He didn't comment.
Instead, he asked,
"Does your sister know?"
"Know what?"
"That you're alive."
I looked out the window.
"Yes."
"Where is she?"
"Safe."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one you're getting."
He nodded.
"Fair."
The city passed behind us.
Streetlights blurred against wet pavement.
I had no idea where we were going.
I didn't ask.
I already knew the answer.
Somewhere I couldn't leave.
My phone buzzed.
A message.
Unknown number.
We know the man you're with.
Then another.
We know where he lives.
I locked the screen.
Adrian noticed.
"Show me."
"No."
He held out his hand.
"Elena."
I froze.
Hearing my real name from him felt more intimate than it should have.
"You don't get to call me that."
"I do if that's your name."
"Not anymore."
He looked at me.
"Then what do you want me to call you?"
"Mia."
"Fine."
A pause.
"Mia."
Something about the way he said it made my stomach tighten.
We arrived at a private estate overlooking the river.
Iron gates opened before we reached them.
I stared.
"You live here?"
"Sometimes."
The estate was enormous.
Not elegant.
Fortified.
Security cameras covered the walls.
Men stood beneath covered walkways.
The house itself looked more like a private embassy than a home.
Adrian led me inside.
A woman in her sixties approached.
"Mr. Vasile."
"Mrs. Carver, this is Mia."
The woman looked at me.
Then at him.
She understood immediately.
"Guest room?"
"For now."
She nodded.
Adrian turned to me.
"You're safe here."
I crossed my arms.
"I don't feel safe."
He looked almost amused.
"Good."
"Why good?"
"People who feel completely safe get careless."
I almost smiled.
Then remembered why I was there.
"Why are you doing this?"
"Because someone tried to enter my restaurant."
I frowned.
"Your restaurant?"
He nodded.
"Table 17."
"You own the restaurant?"
"I own the block."
My mouth opened.
Then closed.
Of course he did.
The next morning, Adrian had a meeting.
I heard men arguing downstairs.
Then silence.
I came down the staircase.
Adrian stood at the table with six men.
One looked at me.
"Who's she?"
Adrian turned.
His expression hardened.
"Nobody."
The man laughed.
"Nobody doesn't get breakfast with you."
Adrian walked toward him.
"You have ten seconds to remember that you don't ask me personal questions."
The man's smile disappeared.
"Sorry."
Adrian returned to the table.
Everyone looked away.
I understood something then.
He wasn't feared because he shouted.
He was feared because he never needed to.
After the meeting, Adrian found me in the kitchen.
"You need food."
"I'm not hungry."
"You're pale."
"I've had a bad week."
He poured coffee.
"Tell me about it."
"No."
"Fair."
He pushed a plate toward me.
I stared.
"What?"
"Eat."
I did.
He sat across from me.
For a while, neither spoke.
Then he said,
"You used to work at Marlowe & Shaw."
I froze.
"Yes."
"What happened there?"
"Nothing."
"Another lie."
I put down my fork.
"They're dead."
"Who?"
"The partners."
"How?"
I looked at him.
"Murdered."
"By Cross?"
"I think so."
"Why?"
"Because they found something."
"What?"
"I don't know."
Adrian's eyes narrowed.
"You expect me to believe that?"
"I don't know what they found."
"But you know it mattered."
I nodded.
He leaned back.
"Tell me about your sister."
I stared.
"Why?"
"Because that's why you're really scared."
I looked down.
Her name was Clara.
She had been twenty-six when everything happened.
Her daughter Lily was four.
When my employer was murdered, Clara received an envelope.
Inside was one photograph.
Our father.
A man the police said had died when we were children.
Except the photograph had been taken two days earlier.
Our father was alive.
And standing beside Nathan Cross.
Clara wanted answers.
Three days later, she disappeared.
I had found Lily alone in their apartment.
She was clutching a stuffed rabbit.
After that, I ran.
Not because I was afraid for myself.
Because I was afraid whoever had taken Clara would find Lily.
Adrian listened without interruption.
When I finished, his voice was very quiet.
"Where is the girl?"
"I won't tell you."
"Why?"
"Because everyone I've trusted has either lied to me or died."
He looked at me for a long moment.
Then he said,
"That's why I'm not asking you to trust me."
I frowned.
"I'm asking you to let me earn it."
I didn't answer.
That night, someone tried to shoot Adrian.
The bullet shattered the bedroom window.
Security erupted.
Men ran through the halls.
Adrian grabbed me and pulled me behind the wall.
"Stay here."
I could hear gunfire outside.
My breathing became shallow.
Adrian looked at me.
"Are you having trouble breathing?"
"No."
"Mia."
"I'm fine."
He cursed softly.
"There's an inhaler in the drawer."
"I don't have asthma."
"I didn't ask."
He opened the drawer and found a small paper packet.
Inside was an inhaler.
I stared.
He looked at me.
"Why do you carry one if you don't have asthma?"
I said nothing.
Adrian's expression changed.
"Who is it for?"
I looked at the inhaler.
"My niece."
He went still.
"Lily has asthma?"
I nodded.
"Badly."
Adrian's jaw tightened.
"Where is she?"
I looked away.
"I can't."
"Why?"
"Because if I tell you, she becomes a target."
He took a breath.
Then said something I would remember forever.
"Then I'll become the target instead."
I looked at him.
May you like
And for the first time, I wondered whether I had made the wrong choice running from him.
Maybe I should have been running toward him.
