Chapter 2 - The Name That Made the Mafia Boss Stop BreathingI laughed because sometimes fear makes people laugh.
Not because anything was funny.
Because the alternative was collapsing.
“That isn't possible.”
Adrien said nothing.
“He's alive.”
“I saw him eleven years ago.”
“When?”
“At a courthouse.”
He moved to his desk.
Opened a file.
Pushed it toward me.
I didn't want to look.
I looked anyway.
A photograph.
Ethan.
Older than I remembered him.
Colder.
Beside three men I had seen on television.
Two were wanted for organized crime.
The third was dead.
Under the photograph was a police record.
Ethan Carter.
Deceased.
Date of death: six years earlier.
Cause: gunshot wound.
Location: Baltimore.
I stared.
“That isn't him.”
Adrien studied me.
“You're sure?”
“Yes.”
“Look again.”
I did.
The face was wrong.
The eyes were similar.
The jawline too.
But Ethan had always had a small scar under his right eye.
This man did not.
“He's not Ethan.”
Adrien nodded.
“I thought so.”
I looked up.
“Then why did you show me?”
“To see whether you recognized the mistake.”
“The mistake?”
“This man used Ethan's identity.”
My hands went cold.
“Why?”
Adrien closed the file.
“That is what I'm trying to find out.”
“Do you think my daughter is involved?”
“No.”
His answer came instantly.
That surprised me.
“No?”
“No.”
“Then why are you asking?”
“Because whoever used your ex-boyfriend's identity knew enough about you to make him useful.”
I hugged Mia closer.
“I don't understand.”
“You don't need to.”
“I think I do.”
Adrien walked toward the window.
“There are people who have been looking for a woman named Elena Vale.”
My heart skipped.
“That isn't me.”
“I know.”
“Who is she?”
“A former accountant.”
“For your company?”
“For a company that once belonged to my family.”
He paused.
“She disappeared twelve years ago.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
He turned.
“We don't know yet.”
The days became strange.
Adrien became more protective.
He assigned one of his security men to escort me whenever I left the mansion.
I hated it.
“I can walk to the pharmacy.”
“No.”
“It is two blocks.”
“No.”
“I am not a prisoner.”
“I know.”
“Then stop treating me like one.”
He looked at me.
“Someone followed you yesterday.”
I froze.
“What?”
“Black sedan.”
My stomach dropped.
“Where?”
“Outside the pharmacy.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I didn't want you afraid.”
I stared at him.
“You're afraid?”
His expression hardened.
“Of losing control.”
Something about that answer silenced me.
Later that night, Mia crawled into the library.
Adrien was there.
She went straight to him.
He opened his arms automatically.
That tiny movement told me everything.
He had begun expecting her.
Perhaps needing her.
Mia put her head against his chest.
Adrien looked at her.
Then looked at me.
“She likes me.”
“She does.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
He looked at Mia.
“I do.”
“What?”
“She knows I won't let anyone hurt her.”
I swallowed.
“You're very sure.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He looked at me for a long time.
“Because I won't.”
That should have frightened me.
Instead, it made my chest ache.
Then Mia reached for his face.
Adrien froze.
She touched his cheek.
He whispered:
“My sister used to do that.”
I had never heard him mention a sister.
“What happened to her?”
He went silent.
“She died.”
“How?”
“Car accident.”
I knew instantly it wasn't the whole truth.
“You don't have to tell me.”
He looked at me.
“I know.”
But he didn't move away.
That night, he found me on the balcony.
“You should sleep.”
“I can't.”
“Why?”
“Because your house makes noises.”
He smiled slightly.
“You're afraid of the house?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“You.”
He leaned against the railing.
“Fair.”
I laughed softly.
He looked at me.
“You've been here eleven months.”
“Yes.”
“You've never asked me for anything.”
“I have a paycheck.”
“Not the same.”
I looked away.
“I don't need anything else.”
He was quiet.
Then:
“What if you did?”
“What?”
“Need something.”
I turned.
He was watching me.
“I'd ask.”
He nodded.
“Good.”
Then his phone rang.
He stepped away.
“Cross.”
His expression changed.
“What do you mean she's back?”
A pause.
“Where?”
He listened.
Then:
“Don't touch her.”
He hung up.
I could see the anger in his face.
“Who?”
“Someone from the past.”
“Whose past?”
“Mine.”
He looked at me.
“Go inside.”
I didn't.
“Adrien.”
He stared.
Then said:
“You need to understand something.”
“What?”
“You being here is no longer an accident.”
Before I could answer, the mansion alarm sounded.
Security flooded the hallways.
A guard shouted:
“East gate breach!”
Adrien grabbed my hand.
For the first time since I'd known him, he ran.
Not toward danger.
Toward Mia.
We reached the nursery.
She was gone.
My scream echoed through the hallway.
“Mia!”
Adrien froze.
Then he saw the empty crib.
His face became something I had never seen.
Pure rage.
He turned toward his men.
“Lock every exit.”
“Boss—”
“NOW.”
I fell against the crib.
“No.”
Adrien took my shoulders.
“Look at me.”
“They took my baby.”
“We're getting her back.”
“How?”
“I don't know yet.”
Then a phone rang.
The security room.
A video had appeared on the monitors.
Mia was sitting on a chair.
Unhurt.
A man stood behind her.
His face was hidden.
A voice spoke through the speakers.
“Cross.”
Adrien stared.
The man continued.
“You wanted to know why she matters.”
Adrien's jaw tightened.
“Tell me.”
“You've been protecting the wrong child.”
The screen showed a second image.
An old photograph.
Mia as a newborn.
And beside her crib stood a woman.
My mother.
A woman I had been told died when I was a baby.
I stared.
“Mia's grandmother.”
The voice laughed.
“No.”
A pause.
“Your mother.”
I stopped breathing.
The man leaned toward the camera.
“Tell her the truth, Adrien.”
The screen went black.
Adrien looked at me.
May you like
I whispered:
“My mother is alive.”
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