Chapter 2 - The Secret Hidden Inside My Name
I didn't sleep that night.
Not because I was afraid of Adrian Vale.
Because I was afraid of the piece of paper sitting on the table in front of me.
My name was written there.
Not Selena Hart.
His name.
Adrian Vale.
The ink was slightly faded, like the paper had been hidden somewhere for a long time.
I stared at it for almost an hour, waiting for the letters to change into something else.
They didn't.
"Why is your name inside my bag?"
Adrian stood near the window of his private penthouse office, looking down at the city lights below.
He had removed his jacket, but somehow he still looked more intimidating than every man I had seen at the gala.
"You tell me."
I looked at him.
"I don't know."
That was the truth.
For once, I wasn't trying to protect myself with a lie.
Adrian turned around slowly.
"Selena, people don't accidentally carry things connected to me."
"I didn't put it there."
"I know."
His answer surprised me.
"You believe me?"
"No."
I frowned.
Then he continued.
"I believe you're telling me what you think is true."
That wasn't exactly comforting.
But somehow, it was better than being accused.
I crossed my arms.
"So what happens now?"
Adrian walked toward the table.
He picked up the paper carefully.
Not casually.
Carefully.
Like he already knew it mattered.
"My security team found this hidden beneath the inner lining of your purse."
"I bought that purse three years ago."
"From where?"
I hesitated.
"An auction."
"What kind of auction?"
I looked away.
"A charity auction."
Adrian noticed.
Of course he noticed.
"You don't remember?"
"I remember."
"Then why did you hesitate?"
Because the truth sounded ridiculous.
Because I had never told anyone.
Because even I thought it was nothing.
"It belonged to my mother."
The room became quiet.
Adrian's expression changed.
Only for a second.
But I saw it.
"You never mentioned your mother."
"Because there's nothing to mention."
I hated how quickly my voice became defensive.
"My mother died when I was young."
"When?"
I looked at the paper.
"Twenty years ago."
Adrian didn't respond.
He just stared at the handwriting.
"What?"
He placed the paper down.
"Your mother's name."
"My mother's name isn't on there."
"No."
He looked at me.
"But whoever hid this wanted me to find it."
I felt a chill.
"Why?"
Adrian didn't answer.
Instead, he walked to a locked cabinet near his desk.
He entered a code.
Inside were dozens of files.
Not business files.
Personal ones.
He pulled out a folder.
My heart started beating faster.
"What is that?"
He placed it on the table.
"Something I thought was gone."
I opened the folder.
The first thing I saw was a photograph.
A young man.
A woman.
And a little girl.
I looked closer.
The girl was me.
My fingers froze.
"Where did you get this?"
Adrian didn't answer immediately.
The woman in the photo looked familiar.
Not because I remembered her.
Because I had spent my childhood looking at one old photograph of my mother every night.
This was the same woman.
But she wasn't alone.
She was standing beside Adrian's father.
I looked up.
"Your family knew my mother?"
Adrian's face became colder.
"My father knew a lot of people."
"That's not an answer."
"No."
He looked at the photograph.
"It's a warning."
I didn't understand.
Before I could ask, his phone rang.
He answered immediately.
"Talk."
A man's voice came through the speaker.
I couldn't hear everything.
Only Adrian's side.
"What do you mean the file moved?"
A pause.
His jaw tightened.
"Who accessed it?"
Another pause.
Then his eyes moved toward me.
"No."
The word was quiet.
But it carried fear.
Not for himself.
For me.
He ended the call.
"What happened?"
Adrian didn't answer.
"Adrian."
He looked at me.
"The person who put that paper in your bag knew you would come to me."
I felt my stomach drop.
"What does that mean?"
"It means this wasn't an accident."
I looked at the photograph again.
My mother.
His father.
A secret I never knew existed.
"Who knew?"
Adrian stayed silent.
That scared me more than anything.
"Who knew about my mother?"
His eyes met mine.
"Someone who has been watching you for years."
I wanted to laugh.
I wanted to tell him that was impossible.
But I couldn't.
Because deep down, I knew.
There had always been strange moments.
Unknown numbers hanging up when I answered.
A car that appeared outside my apartment.
Messages with no sender.
I had convinced myself I was imagining things.
Maybe I wasn't.
"Why me?"
Adrian looked at the photograph.
"That's the question I'm trying to answer."
I stood up.
"I need to go home."
"No."
The way he said it made me stop.
"I can't stay here."
"You can't go back there."
"My apartment is not dangerous."
Adrian looked at me.
"Selena."
Something in his voice made me listen.
"Your ex isn't the biggest threat in your life."
The room went silent.
I thought about Ethan.
The threats.
The control.
The way he always seemed to know where I was.
"What are you saying?"
Adrian walked closer.
"I am saying Ethan Cross may not have been trying to keep you."
I stared at him.
"Then what was he doing?"
Adrian looked toward the photograph.
"He was keeping you away from something."
I felt my entire body go cold.
"No."
"You don't know that."
"You're wrong."
Maybe I was trying to convince him.
Maybe I was trying to convince myself.
Because admitting Ethan was connected to this meant everything I believed about my past was false.
Adrian's phone vibrated again.
This time he didn't answer.
He looked at the screen.
His expression changed.
"What?"
He handed me the phone.
A message.
From an unknown number.
One sentence.
Ask Selena why her mother left her alive.
My hands started shaking.
I looked at Adrian.
He looked just as serious.
"You know this person?"
"No."
"Then how do they know about me?"
Adrian took the phone back.
"Because they're close."
"Close to who?"
He didn't answer.
That was when I heard it.
A sound from outside.
A car door closing.
Both of us stopped.
Adrian's security team moved instantly.
The lights in the penthouse dimmed.
Someone was approaching.
I looked at Adrian.
"What is happening?"
He didn't look away from the entrance.
His hand moved slowly toward the weapon hidden beneath his jacket.
Then someone knocked.
Three times.
Slow.
Calm.
Like they weren't afraid of what was waiting inside.
Adrian's security guard checked the camera.
His face changed.
"Sir..."
Adrian looked at him.
"Who is it?"
The guard swallowed.
"It's someone who says she knows Selena."
My heart stopped.
"Who?"
The guard looked at the screen again.
Then whispered:
"She says her name is Claire Hart."
I couldn't breathe.
Because Claire Hart was my mother's name.
And my mother had been dead for twenty years.
May you like
The penthouse door unlocked from the outside.
Someone was already inside.
