Chapter 1 - The Girl on the Marble Floor
A little girl ran barefoot across the marble floor, laughing:
"Catch me if you can!"
Adrien Moretti stopped in the middle of the hallway.
A broken silver house key lay beside the frightened maid who had just fallen to her knees.
On the back of the key was a tiny engraving:
"For Lily. Always."
Adrien suddenly realized the child had not entered his house by accident.
The girl spun around.
She was tiny.
Three years old at most.
A pink dress swayed around her knees as she laughed, her blonde curls bouncing around a small pink bow. One white sock reached almost to her knee. The other had slipped halfway down her ankle.
She looked directly at Adrien.
And smiled.
Adrien stared at her.
For twenty-two years, people had learned not to smile at him unless they had a reason.
Men twice his age lowered their voices when he entered a room.
Employees stood straighter.
Business partners carefully chose every word.
Yet this child looked at him as if he were nothing more frightening than another grown-up playing a game.
She raised both hands.
Then she giggled.
"Catch me."
Adrien's first instinct was to reach inside his jacket.
His hand stopped halfway.
There was no threat.
No stranger.
No danger.
Only a child.
His hand slowly dropped.
"Who are you?"
The girl tilted her head.
She did not answer.
Instead, she turned and ran.
Adrien almost laughed.
Almost.
He had forgotten what laughter felt like.
He had spent the last two nights negotiating an agreement worth twenty million dollars. Six men had sat around his conference table, each one carefully hiding his fear behind expensive suits and polite expressions.
Adrien had signed the final document at eleven seventeen.
He had not celebrated.
He had not even felt relieved.
Money had stopped impressing him years ago.
Power had stopped satisfying him even earlier.
He had walked out of the West Wing expecting another silent night.
Instead, he had found a little girl.
And now he found her mother.
The maid remained on her knees.
She was pale.
Her dark hair had come loose from its neat bun.
Her hands shook against the marble.
"Please, Mr. Moretti."
Adrien stopped.
The maid swallowed.
"Please don't blame her."
Adrien looked toward the little girl.
She had stopped near the staircase.
She was watching them.
"Blame her for what?"
The maid's lips trembled.
"I should never have brought her here."
That sentence changed everything.
Adrien walked toward her.
The maid flinched.
He stopped several feet away.
"What's your name?"
"Elena."
"And hers?"
The maid glanced at the child.
"Lily."
Lily smiled again.
Adrien looked at the little girl for a long moment.
"Lily."
The child immediately ran back toward him.
Elena gasped.
"Lily, no!"
But the girl ignored her.
She stopped directly in front of Adrien and stared upward.
Then she reached out and touched his expensive watch.
Adrien looked down at her tiny hand.
Nobody touched him without permission.
Nobody.
Yet he couldn't make himself move.
Lily pointed at the watch.
"Pretty."
Adrien stared at her.
"Thank you."
The word sounded strange coming from him.
Elena covered her mouth.
Adrien noticed.
"Why are you surprised?"
She shook her head.
"Nothing."
"You're lying."
Elena looked down.
Adrien crouched slowly so he was at Lily's eye level.
The girl immediately smiled wider.
"Where's your father?"
Lily looked toward Elena.
Elena's face changed.
Adrien noticed.
A flicker.
Fear.
Pain.
Recognition.
Something was there.
Something neither of them wanted to say.
Adrien stood.
"Elena."
She said nothing.
"Where is her father?"
"I don't know."
Adrien's expression hardened.
"You don't know?"
"No."
"Then why is she here?"
Elena looked toward the staircase.
"I was told to bring her."
"By whom?"
Silence.
Adrien took one step closer.
"By whom?"
Elena squeezed her hands together.
"I can't tell you."
"Why?"
"Because I promised."
Adrien stared at her.
"Promises don't bring children into locked houses at midnight."
Elena's eyes filled with tears.
"I didn't have anywhere else to go."
Adrien's expression changed slightly.
He looked around.
The hallway was empty.
The servants were hiding in nearby rooms.
The storm outside continued to pound the windows.
Then he noticed something on the floor.
A small silver key.
He picked it up.
It was old.
The metal was scratched.
He turned it over.
There was an engraving.
"For Lily. Always."
Adrien's fingers tightened.
"Where did you get this?"
Elena's face went white.
Lily suddenly reached for the key.
Adrien held it above her hand.
"You know what this opens?"
Elena whispered:
"Yes."
"What?"
She looked toward the far end of the hallway.
Adrien followed her gaze.
At the end stood an old portrait.
His father's portrait.
The portrait had been hanging there for as long as Adrien could remember.
And beneath it was a door.
A door Adrien had never seen open.
His father had forbidden anyone from entering that corridor.
Adrien looked back at Elena.
"What is behind that door?"
She shook her head.
"I don't know."
"You just said you knew what the key opens."
Elena began crying.
"I know what it used to open."
Adrien's pulse changed.
"What does that mean?"
Before she could answer, Lily tugged at his jacket.
Adrien looked down.
The child pointed toward the portrait.
Then she whispered something.
Adrien leaned closer.
"My mama said..."
He waited.
Lily's eyes moved toward the portrait.
"...he would know."
Adrien froze.
"Who?"
The little girl pointed at him.
"You."
The hallway seemed to become silent.
Adrien stared at the child.
He had never seen Lily before.
He had never met Elena outside the estate.
And yet the child had just repeated a message from someone who apparently knew him.
Adrien turned toward the portrait.
He walked slowly down the hallway.
Elena stood behind him.
"Mr. Moretti..."
Adrien stopped.
"Don't."
Her voice shook.
"Please don't open that door."
Adrien looked back.
"Why?"
Elena whispered:
"Because the last person who opened it disappeared."
Adrien stared at her.
Then he turned toward the locked door.
He inserted the silver key.
The lock clicked.
Adrien's hand tightened around the handle.
And then, from the other side of the door, someone whispered his name.
"Adrien..."
He froze.
It was a woman's voice.
A woman he had not heard in eighteen years.
May you like
Adrien slowly turned the handle.
The door began to open.
