Chapter 5 - The Woman Who Hired Emma
Adrian did not go alone.
He went with Roman.
He simply made sure Dominic believed otherwise.
The location arrived ten minutes later.
An abandoned hotel on the edge of the city.
Adrian knew the building.
It had once belonged to his father.
Dominic sold it after his death.
“Of course,” Adrian muttered.
Emma stood beside the vehicle.
“You’re not leaving me behind.”
“Yes, I am.”
“No.”
“Emma.”
“No.”
“You are not coming into a building controlled by armed men.”
“I didn’t say I was.”
He paused.
“What?”
“I’m coming in the command van.”
Roman hid a smile.
Adrian pointed at him.
“Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You thought it loudly.”
Emma climbed into the van.
Adrian exhaled.
“Why do I keep people around me who don’t listen?”
Roman shrugged.
“The obedient ones quit.”
The hotel was enormous.
Most windows boarded.
Power dead except for one floor.
Dominic called.
“Come inside.”
Adrian remained in the van.
“Let me hear Sofia.”
A pause.
Then his sister.
“Adrian, don’t—”
The call cut.
Alive.
That was enough.
Adrian entered through the loading dock.
Roman stayed fifty feet behind.
Emma remained with surveillance.
Or she was supposed to.
Adrian rolled into the old ballroom.
Dominic stood near the stage.
Older than Adrian remembered.
Thinner.
But unmistakable.
Mrs. Donnelly stood beside him.
Sofia was tied to a chair.
Adrian stopped.
“You look terrible for a dead man.”
Dominic smiled.
“You look better than I expected.”
Adrian’s eyes became ice.
Dominic glanced at the wheelchair.
“I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not.”
“No.”
Dominic nodded.
“I’m not.”
Mrs. Donnelly looked away.
Adrian stared at her.
“Why?”
She started crying.
“Because he had my son.”
Dominic’s smile vanished.
“Careful.”
Adrian looked between them.
“Your son died.”
“No,” Mrs. Donnelly whispered. “He took him.”
“For eighteen years?”
“Six.”
Adrian understood.
Six years ago, Mrs. Donnelly began changing.
Small things.
More secretive.
More protective.
Adrian assumed age.
Grief.
Now he knew.
Dominic had been controlling her.
“You hired Emma,” Adrian said.
Mrs. Donnelly nodded.
“Why?”
“Thomas told me to.”
Dominic turned sharply.
She continued before he could stop her.
“He said Emma could get close enough to make Adrian pay attention.”
Adrian frowned.
“Pay attention to what?”
Mrs. Donnelly looked at his chair.
“The numbers.”
Adrian’s face hardened.
“You scratched them.”
“Yes.”
“Why not simply tell me?”
“Because Dominic monitored every call, every email, every visitor.”
“Not every maid.”
“No.”
Dominic backhanded her.
Adrian’s expression changed instantly.
Roman shifted in the shadows.
Adrian raised one hand subtly.
Wait.
Dominic faced him.
“You always did inspire loyalty.”
“You mistake survival for loyalty.”
“Perhaps.”
“Why keep me alive?”
Dominic stepped closer.
“There it is.”
“The question.”
“Yes.”
“Answer it.”
Dominic walked slowly around Adrian.
“Your father built an empire around one rule: the Vale name controlled everything.”
Adrian said nothing.
“I needed the name.”
“You had it.”
“Not the right one.”
Dominic leaned closer.
“You were his son.”
“And?”
“People followed you.”
Adrian understood.
“You needed me as a symbol.”
“I needed you alive, angry, isolated, dependent on people I controlled.”
Adrian’s eyes flicked toward Mrs. Donnelly.
Dominic smiled.
“Exactly.”
“You placed people in my house.”
“Yes.”
“In my companies.”
“Yes.”
“My security?”
Dominic looked toward the darkness where Roman waited.
“Some.”
Adrian’s stomach tightened.
“Roman?”
“No.”
For the first time, Dominic sounded irritated.
“Roman was annoyingly loyal.”
Adrian almost relaxed.
Almost.
Dominic continued.
“But everyone else?”
He smiled.
“Enough.”
Sofia struggled against the rope.
“You destroyed him.”
Dominic looked at her.
“I preserved him.”
“You made sure he couldn’t walk!”
“I made sure he couldn’t leave.”
Adrian stared.
There it was.
Not money.
Not revenge.
Control.
Dominic wanted Adrian physically trapped inside an empire Dominic could quietly operate from underneath.
“What now?” Adrian asked.
“You sign everything over.”
Adrian laughed.
Dominic frowned.
“You think I brought papers?”
“I think you’ll sign.”
“Why?”
Dominic turned toward Sofia.
Adrian’s smile vanished.
“Don’t.”
Dominic placed a gun against her shoulder.
“Sign.”
Adrian looked at Sofia.
She shook her head.
“Don’t.”
He turned toward Dominic.
“Fine.”
Dominic smiled.
A folder was placed on the table.
Adrian rolled closer.
He picked up the pen.
Then the lights went out.
Emma’s voice exploded through the hotel speakers.
“Roman, now.”
Gunfire erupted.
Sofia dropped sideways with the chair.
Adrian threw himself from his wheelchair.
Dominic fired.
The bullet struck the chair.
Roman tackled Dominic.
Two guards rushed from the hallway.
Adrian hit the floor hard.
He could not move his legs.
But his arms worked.
His hands worked.
And the pistol strapped beneath his chair had remained untouched for two years.
He pulled it free.
One shot.
A guard fell.
Second shot.
The other retreated.
Roman fought Dominic.
Emma ran into the ballroom.
Adrian saw her.
His fury was immediate.
“What are you doing here?”
“Saving your life.”
“I told you to stay in the van!”
“You also told me to stop working!”
“This is not the time!”
She reached Sofia and cut the ropes.
Dominic struck Roman with a metal bar.
Roman collapsed.
Dominic ran.
Adrian aimed.
He had a clear shot.
He could kill him.
Two years of rage condensed into one finger against a trigger.
Emma looked at him.
“Adrian.”
That was all.
He lowered the gun.
Dominic disappeared through a side door.
Police arrived three minutes later.
Dominic escaped.
Again.
Roman survived.
Mrs. Donnelly was arrested, though Sofia immediately arranged an attorney after learning about her son.
Back at the estate, Adrian was furious.
At Emma.
At himself.
At everything.
“You disobeyed a direct order.”
Emma stood in his bedroom.
“You aren’t my commanding officer.”
“You ran into gunfire.”
“So did you.”
“I was already there.”
“That doesn’t improve the logic.”
Adrian stared at her.
“You could have died.”
Emma went silent.
There.
The truth beneath his anger.
Adrian looked away.
“You could have died,” he repeated.
Softer.
Emma approached.
“So could you.”
“That’s different.”
“Why?”
“Because—”
He stopped.
She waited.
Adrian had no answer that did not reveal too much.
Emma crouched beside him.
“For someone who scares everyone away, you’re getting very upset about one maid staying.”
His jaw tightened.
“You’re not one maid.”
The words escaped.
Emma looked at him.
Adrian cursed silently.
“What am I?”
He could have lied.
He had built half his life from strategic lies.
But Emma had stripped those away one by one.
“I don’t know.”
She smiled faintly.
“That sounded painful.”
“It was.”
Emma rose.
Then leaned forward and kissed his cheek.
Adrian froze.
She stepped back.
“Good night.”
“Emma.”
She paused.
“You can’t do that.”
“Kiss your cheek?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I said so.”
Emma smiled.
“Good night, Adrian.”
He watched her leave.
He touched the place she kissed.
Then swore.
Two days later, Dr. Grant was stable.
He met Adrian privately.
“There’s a specialist in New York.”
“No.”
“Adrian.”
“No.”
Grant placed scans on the desk.
“You have incomplete spinal damage.”
“I know.”
“No. You know what Dominic wanted you to believe.”
Adrian looked at the images.
Grant continued.
“I cannot promise walking.”
“Then stop.”
“I can promise the diagnosis you were given was manipulated.”
Adrian slowly looked up.
“Meaning?”
“You have more preserved nerve pathways than your original records showed.”
A strange pressure formed in Adrian’s chest.
Hope again.
He hated it.
“There’s a possibility,” Grant said, “that with corrective surgery and extensive rehabilitation, you could regain function.”
“How much?”
“I don’t know.”
“Enough to stand?”
“Possibly.”
“Walk?”
“Possibly.”
Adrian laughed bitterly.
“Everything is possibly.”
“Yes.”
Grant leaned forward.
“But two years ago, someone told you impossible.”
That night Adrian told Emma.
She listened.
Then said, “You should meet the specialist.”
“No.”
“Okay.”
He blinked.
“That’s it?”
“Yes.”
“You’re not going to argue?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s your body.”
Adrian stared.
“You think I should go.”
“Yes.”
“But you won’t push.”
“No.”
“Why?”
Emma looked at him.
“Because everyone has been making decisions about your body for two years.”
The answer hit harder than he expected.
She stood.
“If you want the surgery, choose it because you want it.”
She walked toward the door.
“If you don’t, I’ll still annoy you tomorrow.”
Adrian watched her.
“Emma.”
“Yes?”
“Come to New York.”
She smiled.
“Is that an order?”
“No.”
“What is it?”
He swallowed.
“A request.”
Emma’s expression softened.
“Yes.”
The next morning, Roman entered Adrian’s office.
He carried a sealed medical file recovered from Dominic’s hotel.
Inside was Adrian’s original surgical report.
And one handwritten note from Dr. Charles Mercer.
Roman’s supposedly dead brother.
Adrian read the final sentence twice.
PATIENT MAY RECOVER IF SECOND PROCEDURE OCCURS BEFORE TWENTY-FOUR MONTH MARK.
Adrian looked at the calendar.
Twenty-four months since the shooting would be tomorrow.
Roman’s phone rang.
He answered.
His face changed.
“What?”
May you like
He looked at Adrian.
“The New York specialist’s plane just exploded on the runway.”
