Chapter 2 - The Man Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
Sebastian moved before I could breathe.
One second he was beside the bed.
The next he stood between me and the door.
Mateo reached inside his jacket.
“Who is it?” Sebastian called.
No answer.
Another knock.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Then the voice came again.
“Lena.”
My skin went cold.
I knew that voice.
At least I thought I did.
But that was impossible.
Sebastian looked over his shoulder.
“You recognize him.”
It wasn’t a question.
I nodded.
“Who?”
I couldn’t say the name.
Not yet.
The person outside knocked again.
“Lena, open the door.”
Sebastian’s eyes narrowed.
“Mateo.”
Mateo stepped to the side of the frame.
Sebastian unlocked the door but did not immediately open it.
His voice became calm.
Too calm.
“Stand back.”
He opened the door.
The hallway was empty.
I stared.
Nobody.
Sebastian stepped out.
Mateo followed.
I grabbed my robe from the chair and pulled it on before moving toward them.
“Stay inside,” Sebastian ordered.
I ignored him.
The private hall stretched toward the elevator.
Cream walls.
Dark marble floor.
No place to hide.
The elevator doors stood closed.
Mateo checked the service corridor.
Empty.
“Elevator log?” Sebastian asked.
Mateo looked at his phone.
“It stopped here.”
“So where is he?”
A faint sound came from the floor.
Buzz.
Buzz.
Buzz.
We all looked down.
A phone rested beside the wall.
Not mine.
Old-fashioned.
Black.
Sebastian crouched.
The screen displayed a photograph.
I leaned closer.
My stomach dropped.
It was a photograph of me sleeping in Sebastian’s bed.
Taken during the night.
A message appeared beneath it.
YOU SHOULD HAVE LEFT HER ALONE.
Sebastian’s face became terrifyingly still.
Mateo picked up the phone using a cloth.
Another message arrived.
C-17 REMEMBERS.
Sebastian turned away.
I grabbed his arm.
“No.”
He looked down at my hand.
“You’re going to explain that code.”
His jaw flexed.
“Not here.”
“Here is exactly where you’re going to explain it.”
Mateo studied the hallway.
“We should relocate.”
Sebastian nodded.
“Library.”
Minutes later, I sat opposite Sebastian in a private room I had never seen.
No windows.
Steel-lined door.
Bookshelves covering three walls.
Mateo stood near a security monitor.
Sebastian poured water.
His hand was steady.
Mine wasn’t.
“What is C-17?” I asked.
Sebastian remained silent.
“Do not tell me this is for my protection.”
“It is.”
“No. Protection was last night. This morning there is blood in your bed, my shoe is three floors down, somebody erased your cameras, and there is a photograph of me sleeping.”
He looked at me.
“That is exactly why—”
“And Adrian Vale?”
Silence.
I had heard the name before.
Everyone in New York had.
Adrian Vale had once been Sebastian Ward’s closest friend.
Then, five years earlier, he had supposedly died when a car plunged into the Hudson.
Business reporters called it an accident.
Crime reporters called it a war.
Sebastian never spoke about it.
Now his ring had appeared beside my missing shoe.
I leaned forward.
“You said Adrian’s name like you’d seen a ghost.”
Sebastian stared at the water glass.
“In some ways, I have.”
Mateo remained silent.
Sebastian finally sat.
“C-17 was a private operation.”
“What kind?”
“A security network.”
“You mean criminal.”
“I mean necessary.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
He looked tired suddenly.
“Ten years ago, Adrian and I built a system to protect people nobody else could protect.”
“From what?”
“Men worse than us.”
The phrase stayed between us.
“Crown Meridian was one of the safe locations. C-17 was the designation for this residence.”
I looked around.
“This penthouse?”
“Yes.”
“Why would someone leave that symbol?”
“To remind me.”
“Of Adrian?”
“Maybe.”
“What happened to him?”
Sebastian’s eyes hardened.
“He betrayed me.”
Mateo looked away.
Sebastian continued.
“Five years ago, evidence surfaced that someone inside my organization had sold information to a rival group. People died.”
“How many?”
“Enough.”
“And you thought Adrian did it.”
“I knew he did.”
“You killed him?”
Sebastian met my eyes.
“No.”
The answer came immediately.
I believed him.
“But somebody wanted you to think he was dead.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
My thoughts raced.
“Why me?”
That question finally unsettled him.
“I’m trying to find out.”
I laughed once, bitterly.
“You don’t get to say that.”
“What?”
“You knew enough to recognize the code. You knew enough to recognize the ring. Someone came into your bedroom while I was unconscious or barely awake, and you still keep saying you don’t know.”
Sebastian’s expression softened.
“I didn’t bring you into this.”
“You brought me into this room.”
“That’s different.”
“Not anymore.”
Mateo’s phone rang.
He answered quietly.
His face tightened.
He ended the call.
“Lab results.”
Sebastian stood.
“The blood?”
Mateo nodded.
“Two samples.”
My throat went dry.
“Two?”
“One is Lena’s.”
I swallowed.
Sebastian looked at me.
“The other?”
Mateo hesitated.
“Male.”
Sebastian’s eyes sharpened.
“Database match?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Mateo slowly lowered the phone.
“Adrian Vale.”
Nobody spoke.
My heart hammered.
“That means he was here.”
Mateo shook his head.
“Not necessarily.”
Sebastian understood first.
“It could have been planted.”
“Exactly.”
I looked between them.
“But the ring…”
“Also plantable,” Mateo said.
“The photograph?”
“Real.”
That answer made everything worse.
Sebastian walked toward the monitor.
“Show me the elevator logs.”
Mateo pulled them up.
A list of entries appeared.
Private elevator.
Service elevator.
Emergency override.
Then one access record at 3:11 a.m.
I noticed the name.
“Who is Evelyn Ward?”
Sebastian froze.
Mateo stopped typing.
I looked from one man to the other.
“Who is she?”
Sebastian’s voice dropped.
“My sister.”
“I didn’t know you had a sister.”
“You weren’t supposed to.”
“Why?”
“Because Evelyn died twelve years ago.”
My stomach tightened.
The access log said:
E. WARD — VERIFIED.
3:11 A.M.
I stared at Sebastian.
“You have a dead friend’s blood in the stairwell and a dead sister’s credentials opening your elevator.”
Sebastian looked at the screen.
“Someone is sending a message.”
“What message?”
He answered quietly.
“That everything I buried is coming back.”
A new alert flashed.
Mateo clicked it.
The screen changed to a live image from the lobby.
A woman stood at reception.
Late thirties.
Dark coat.
Wet hair.
She held an envelope.
The receptionist spoke to her.
The woman raised her head toward the camera.
Sebastian took one step backward.
For the first time, genuine shock crossed his face.
I looked at him.
“Who is she?”
His voice was barely audible.
“Evelyn.”
I stared at the screen.
“That’s your sister?”
Sebastian said nothing.
The woman in the lobby lifted the envelope toward the camera.
Across the front, written in black ink, were three words.
FOR SEBASTIAN ONLY.
May you like
Then she smiled directly into the camera.
And the feed went black.
