Chapter 2 - The Man Who Was Supposed to Be Gone
Adrian did not answer.
Roman entered through the opposite security door with his weapon drawn.
The main bedroom handle continued to move.
Slowly.
Once.
Twice.
Then stopped.
Roman looked at Adrian.
“Who was that?”
Adrian’s face had gone cold.
“Julian.”
Roman froze.
Julian Cross had been Adrian’s personal driver for nine years.
He had driven Adrian to the meeting on April seventeenth.
He had pushed Adrian’s hospital chair through the emergency corridor while doctors prepared surgery.
Three days later Julian disappeared.
Police assumed he had run.
Adrian assumed he had been killed.
No body was ever found.
Roman crossed the room and opened the door.
Empty hallway.
No footsteps.
No movement.
Only a white envelope on the carpet.
Roman checked both directions.
Then picked it up.
Adrian watched him open it.
Inside was an old photograph.
Adrian recognized it immediately.
The construction site.
The unfinished tower where he had been shot.
The picture showed Adrian standing beside Julian near the black sedan.
Roman was visible near the entrance.
And farther in the background stood a man Adrian had trusted even more.
His uncle, Dominic Vale.
Adrian’s father had died when he was nineteen.
Dominic had become mentor, strategist, and substitute father.
He had taught Adrian how to survive meetings where everyone smiled while planning murder.
He had also convinced Adrian to attend the meeting where the sniper shot him.
Dominic died six months later.
Heart attack.
At least according to the coroner.
Roman turned the photograph over.
Four words were written on the back.
HE NEVER DIED EITHER.
Sofia arrived moments later.
She read the message and sat down.
“No.”
Adrian remained silent.
“Dominic is dead,” she said.
“Apparently death has become unreliable.”
“Adrian, I saw him in the coffin.”
“So did I.”
Roman examined the photograph.
“Could be manipulation.”
“The photo is old,” Adrian said.
“I mean the message.”
“Someone wants us looking at Dominic.”
Roman nodded.
“Which could mean Dominic matters. Or someone wants to distract us.”
Adrian looked at Emma’s photograph.
“Find the basement.”
“We’re searching.”
“Search faster.”
Roman left.
Sofia remained.
“You care about her.”
Adrian glared.
“She was taken from my house.”
“That isn’t what I said.”
“She’s an employee.”
“You sent eight armed men to find an employee who has worked here three days.”
“Ten.”
Sofia blinked.
“Ten?”
“I sent another team.”
Despite everything, Sofia almost smiled.
Adrian pointed toward the door.
“Leave.”
“Absolutely not.”
His phone rang.
Emma’s number.
Roman had found her phone inside the house.
So whoever was calling was spoofing it.
Adrian answered.
No one spoke.
Then breathing.
“Emma?”
A man laughed softly.
“Still giving orders from the chair, Adrian?”
Adrian’s expression turned lethal.
“Julian.”
Silence.
Then:
“You remember me.”
“Where is she?”
“You should worry about why she was hired.”
“Where is Emma?”
“Ask her yourself.”
A sound.
Movement.
Then Emma’s voice.
“Adrian?”
He gripped the phone.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Where are you?”
“I don’t know.”
A male voice said something too distant to understand.
Emma continued quickly.
“There’s a red door. Concrete walls. I heard trains earlier.”
Roman was already tracing the call through his security system.
Adrian saw the notification appear on the tablet.
“Emma, listen to me.”
“I’m listening.”
“You’re going to be fine.”
Her voice softened.
“That sounded almost reassuring.”
Even now.
He almost cursed.
“Can you stop joking?”
“I’m nervous.”
It was the first time she admitted fear.
Something inside Adrian tightened.
“What do you see?”
“Old pipes. A table. One light. There’s a number painted on the wall.”
“What number?”
“Seventeen.”
Roman pointed to a location on the tablet.
An abandoned freight facility near South Chicago.
Adrian nodded.
Roman sent the teams.
The call abruptly ended.
Adrian immediately turned his chair.
Sofia blocked him.
“No.”
“Move.”
“You’re not going.”
“Move.”
“Someone lured you out once already.”
“And they took Emma.”
“Exactly.”
Adrian stared at her.
Sofia’s eyes filled.
“You nearly died the first time.”
He spoke quietly.
“I know.”
“You spent eight months learning how to move from a hospital bed into that chair.”
“I know.”
“You screamed at me because I tried to help.”
“I remember.”
“I watched you become someone who would rather have everyone hate him than let anyone see him hurt.”
Adrian looked away.
Sofia swallowed.
“Don’t make me watch you leave again.”
His voice softened only slightly.
“I’m not the man who went to that construction site two years ago.”
“That’s what scares me.”
Roman returned.
“We’ve got a location.”
Adrian moved forward.
Roman did not stop him.
Sofia looked at Roman.
“You’re letting him go?”
Roman holstered his weapon.
“I’m going with him.”
The freight facility stood beside an unused rail line.
Adrian arrived in an armored van.
He hated the ramp.
He hated every ramp.
But he had learned that hating something did not make it disappear.
Roman pushed the button.
Adrian rolled down himself.
“No one touches my chair.”
Roman nodded.
Inside, six men moved ahead.
The building smelled of rust and damp concrete.
They found the red door.
Unlocked.
Roman entered first.
The room was empty.
One metal chair.
One table.
One hanging light.
Emma’s black work shoe sat in the center of the floor.
Adrian stopped.
Roman touched the wall.
“Warm.”
Someone had been there recently.
Adrian noticed marks on the floor.
Wheel tracks.
Not his.
Another chair had moved through the room.
He followed them toward a service corridor.
Roman tried to stop him.
“Adrian.”
“No.”
They continued.
At the end of the hallway they found an elevator.
Old freight model.
The door was open.
Inside lay Emma’s other shoe.
Adrian entered.
Roman followed.
The elevator descended.
One floor.
Two.
Three.
It should not have had three basement levels.
The door opened.
Emma was standing directly outside.
Adrian stared.
She looked exhausted.
Hair loose.
Uniform dirty.
But unharmed.
Roman rushed forward.
Emma raised both hands.
“Don’t.”
Roman stopped.
Adrian looked beyond her.
“Who’s there?”
Emma looked at him.
“You shouldn’t have come.”
“You could have mentioned that before getting kidnapped.”
“I wasn’t kidnapped.”
Silence.
Roman’s hand moved toward his weapon.
Adrian’s voice became dangerous.
“Explain.”
Emma glanced behind herself.
“I came here willingly.”
Adrian’s face changed.
“Why?”
“Because someone contacted me this morning.”
“Who?”
“My father.”
Adrian remembered her file.
Her father disappeared eleven years ago.
“What does your father have to do with me?”
Emma swallowed.
“He worked for your uncle.”
Adrian said nothing.
Emma continued.
“He disappeared because he found out who ordered the sniper attack before it happened.”
Roman stared at her.
“You knew?”
“No. Not until this morning.”
“Then why leave the estate without telling anyone?”
“My father said if I told Adrian, he would be killed.”
“Where is he now?”
Emma slowly stepped aside.
A man sat in the darkness behind her.
Thin.
Gray-haired.
Scar down one side of his face.
Alive.
He looked at Adrian.
“My name is Thomas Bennett.”
Emma’s father.
He held a folder.
“I spent eleven years hiding from Dominic Vale.”
Adrian stared at him.
“My uncle is dead.”
Thomas shook his head.
“No.”
Adrian’s hands tightened around his wheels.
Thomas looked toward Roman.
Then back at Adrian.
“Dominic arranged the shooting because he needed you alive but powerless.”
Adrian felt the room shrink.
“Why?”
“Because killing you would have started a war.”
Thomas placed the folder on the table.
“But putting you in that chair gave him what he needed.”
Adrian opened it.
Financial records.
Names.
Transfers.
Photographs.
Then a medical document.
Adrian recognized the hospital logo.
His hospital.
His surgery.
A payment had been made twenty-four hours before the shooting to someone on the surgical team.
Adrian stared at the amount.
“What is this?”
Thomas’s voice lowered.
“The bullet damaged your spine.”
Adrian looked at him.
“But according to the doctor who disappeared afterward, it did not cause all of the damage.”
Emma covered her mouth.
Roman whispered, “Jesus.”
Adrian’s face became absolutely still.
Thomas pointed to another page.
“Someone paid the surgeon to make sure you would never walk again.”
The light above them flickered.
Once.
Then darkness.
Roman drew his weapon.
A gunshot exploded somewhere in the corridor.
Emma screamed Adrian’s name.
The emergency lights flashed red.
A figure appeared at the end of the hallway.
Adrian recognized the face immediately.
May you like
Dominic Vale smiled.
“Hello, nephew.”
