Chapter 2 - The Woman Who Died Three Years Ago
The door opened only six inches.
Lucian pushed Evelyn behind him.
A hand appeared in the gap.
Thin fingers.
A silver bracelet.
Lucian stopped.
Evelyn felt his entire body turn rigid.
"Sofia?"
The hand disappeared.
Lucian shoved the door open.
The room was empty.
Almost.
A single chair stood under a ceiling light.
On the chair sat an old-fashioned cassette recorder.
Beside it was a framed photograph.
Lucian walked toward the photograph as if approaching a grave.
Evelyn stayed near the door.
She knew she should run.
Unfortunately, the elevator had already closed.
"Who is Sofia?" she asked.
Lucian picked up the photograph.
Evelyn saw a woman smiling beside him.
Younger Lucian looked different.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
He was smiling.
Actually smiling.
The woman was blonde, elegant, perhaps thirty.
On the back of the photograph someone had written:
SHE DIDN'T DIE ALONE.
Lucian's fingers tightened.
"Sofia was my wife."
Evelyn's breath caught.
She remembered rumors from employee gossip.
Three years earlier.
An accident.
A private car leaving the Vale estate.
Fire.
One fatality.
Lucian Vale's wife.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't."
The word was sharp.
Evelyn stopped.
Lucian stared at the recorder.
A red light blinked.
He pressed PLAY.
Static filled the room.
Then the same distorted voice spoke.
"Three years ago, you accepted the story you were given."
Lucian's expression became stone.
"You buried Sofia."
Static.
"You blamed yourself."
More static.
"But you never asked the only question that mattered."
The recording paused.
Evelyn stepped closer despite herself.
"What question?"
The speaker crackled.
"Who identified the body?"
Lucian looked at the machine.
Evelyn whispered, "Wasn't it you?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"The fire."
His voice was barely audible.
"There wasn't enough left."
Evelyn immediately regretted asking.
The recording continued.
"Tonight you'll learn the first truth. But only if Evelyn Hart stays with you."
Both looked at each other.
Evelyn's stomach dropped.
The tape stopped.
Silence.
Lucian turned slowly.
"You're going upstairs."
"They specifically said—"
"I don't care."
"Why would they know my name?"
"That's what I intend to find out."
"You can't investigate that while pretending I don't exist."
"I can if you're somewhere safe."
Evelyn laughed once without humor.
"Where exactly is safe? My apartment with the broken front lock? The subway at one in the morning?"
Lucian studied her.
The words clearly registered.
"Your lock is broken?"
"That is extremely unrelated."
"Answer."
"I'm behind on rent."
His jaw flexed.
Evelyn pointed at the recorder.
"Stay focused."
For some reason that seemed to amuse him.
He turned back to the table.
Beneath the recorder was an envelope.
LUCIAN AND EVELYN.
Lucian opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
Not Sofia.
Evelyn.
She grabbed the table.
The picture had been taken outside her apartment three days earlier.
Someone had photographed her carrying groceries.
On the back:
SHE HAS WHAT SOFIA HID.
Evelyn's heartbeat hammered.
"I don't have anything."
Lucian looked at her.
"I believe you."
"Why?"
"Because if you knew, you wouldn't have come here for four hundred dollars."
Oddly reasonable.
They searched the room.
Nothing.
No second exit.
No cameras Lucian could find.
When the elevator returned, two men stood inside.
Both immediately lowered their weapons when they saw Lucian.
One was broad-shouldered, gray at the temples.
"Boss."
Lucian's tone turned cold.
"Marcus. Who shut down the elevator?"
"We're tracing it."
"Someone accessed Level 317."
Marcus stared past him.
"That's impossible."
"So was a phone call from my dead wife's number."
That silenced everyone.
Marcus's gaze moved to Evelyn.
"Who's she?"
"Evelyn Hart."
Recognition flashed across his face.
Lucian saw it.
"You know her."
"No."
"You reacted."
"I reacted because that's the maid from the replacement list."
Lucian stepped closer.
"How would you know a replacement maid's name?"
Marcus hesitated.
Only briefly.
But Lucian noticed everything.
"Because security flagged her file."
Evelyn frowned.
"Why?"
Marcus looked at Lucian.
"Her mother."
Evelyn stiffened.
"What about my mother?"
Marcus exhaled.
"Her name was Diane Hart."
"You knew her?"
Lucian looked between them.
Marcus finally said, "She worked for the Vale family."
Evelyn stared at him.
"No, she didn't."
"Twenty-two years ago."
"My mother was a nurse."
"Before that."
Evelyn's mouth went dry.
Her mother had died when Evelyn was seventeen.
She had spoken little about her younger years.
Never about the Vales.
Lucian's voice turned dangerously quiet.
"What did Diane Hart do for my family?"
Marcus seemed to calculate his response.
"Private domestic staff."
"That's vague."
"It was supposed to be."
Lucian took one step forward.
Marcus lowered his eyes.
"She worked for your father."
That changed everything.
Lucian's father, Alessandro Vale, had died eight years earlier.
He had built the criminal empire Lucian inherited.
He had also been a man Lucian never trusted.
Evelyn spoke softly.
"What does my mother have to do with Sofia?"
Marcus shook his head.
"I don't know."
Lucian looked at him.
"I'll ask once."
Marcus swallowed.
"Your father had a private archive. Diane was one of three employees with access."
"Where?"
"Unknown."
"And the number 317?"
Marcus looked toward the concrete corridor.
"I thought the room had been sealed after Alessandro died."
Lucian's eyes hardened.
"By whom?"
Marcus didn't answer.
Lucian grabbed him by the jacket.
"By whom?"
"Your uncle."
Evelyn looked between them.
"Which uncle?"
"Dominic Vale."
Lucian released Marcus.
The name changed the atmosphere.
Even Evelyn knew Dominic.
Lucian's father's younger brother.
Philanthropist.
Real estate investor.
The respectable Vale.
Unlike Lucian, Dominic appeared in magazines smiling beside senators and charity boards.
Lucian removed his phone.
"Find Dominic."
Marcus checked his own device.
"He's at the Vale Foundation gala."
"Tonight?"
"Started an hour ago."
Lucian stared at Evelyn.
She knew immediately.
"No."
"You wanted answers."
"I wanted to finish my housekeeping shift."
"That became impossible approximately thirty minutes ago."
"You are not taking me to a mafia gala."
"Foundation gala."
"That's your correction?"
Lucian almost smiled again.
Again it disappeared.
Twenty minutes later Evelyn found herself in Lucian's private penthouse being handed a black evening dress by a woman named Celeste.
"I can't wear that."
Celeste raised an eyebrow.
"Why?"
"It costs more than my apartment."
"It costs more than your building."
"That isn't helping."
Lucian entered wearing a tailored black suit.
The tattoos at his neck remained visible.
His gaze stopped when he saw Evelyn.
Something unreadable crossed his face.
Evelyn folded her arms.
"Don't."
"I didn't say anything."
"You were about to."
"No."
"You have a very loud face."
That earned the smallest actual smile.
For perhaps half a second.
Then Marcus entered.
"We found something."
He handed Lucian a tablet.
Security footage appeared.
A woman dressed in housekeeping clothes entered the supply room earlier that evening.
Her face was hidden by a cap.
She approached Evelyn's cart.
She taped the key beneath the bottle.
Then turned toward the camera.
Evelyn leaned closer.
The woman removed her cap.
Lucian went still.
The woman in the video was blonde.
Older than the photograph.
But unmistakable.
Sofia.
The supposedly dead woman looked directly into the camera.
Then held up a piece of paper.
Lucian enlarged the frame.
Four words were written on it.
DON'T TRUST MARCUS COLE.
Everyone turned.
Marcus's face drained white.
He took one step backward.
Lucian's voice dropped.
"Marcus."
"I can explain."
A gunshot shattered the penthouse window.
Marcus fell.
Evelyn screamed.
Lucian pulled her down behind the marble counter as another shot tore through the room.
Then Marcus's phone began ringing beside his motionless hand.
May you like
The caller ID displayed a name.
DOMINIC VALE.
