Chapter 3 - The Girl From His Past
"Emily Carter."
Adrian Blackwood said my name like he had been waiting years to say it.
Then he added:
"Sarah Carter's daughter."
My entire body went cold.
I had not heard my mother's name spoken like that in years.
Not by a stranger.
Not by a billionaire sitting behind a desk on the forty-fifth floor of one of the most powerful companies in America.
I stared at him.
"How do you know my mother's name?"
Adrian did not answer immediately.
He walked toward the window overlooking Chicago.
The city moved beneath us.
Cars.
People.
Thousands of lives continuing normally.
But inside that office, everything had changed.
"My question is," he said quietly, "why didn't you tell me who you were?"
I almost laughed.
A short, nervous sound escaped my mouth.
"Tell you?"
I stepped forward.
"I met you for the first time last night."
Adrian turned around.
His expression was calm.
Too calm.
"No."
The word hit harder than I expected.
"No?"
"You met me before."
I shook my head.
"You are wrong."
"I don't think I am."
The room became silent.
I looked at Daniel standing outside the glass door.
He was watching us.
Not interfering.
Not leaving.
Like he already knew this conversation was coming.
I turned back to Adrian.
"Explain."
For the first time, something changed in his face.
Not anger.
Not confidence.
Something closer to regret.
"Your mother saved my life."
I froze.
"What?"
"Twenty years ago."
He walked back toward his desk.
"Before Blackwood International became what it is today. Before this building existed. Before anyone knew my name."
He opened a drawer.
Then removed an old photograph.
He placed it on the desk.
I did not want to look.
But I did.
And the moment I saw it, my breath disappeared.
It was my mother.
Younger.
Smiling.
Standing beside a teenage boy.
A teenage boy I recognized.
Even though he looked completely different.
It was Adrian.
"I don't understand."
Adrian looked at the photograph.
"Your mother was the only person who believed I deserved a second chance."
I picked up the picture.
My fingers trembled.
My mother had never mentioned Adrian Blackwood.
Never.
Not once.
My entire childhood, she had worked two jobs.
She had struggled.
She had sacrificed everything for me.
But she never talked about billionaires.
She never talked about saving someone's life.
She never talked about secrets.
"What happened?" I asked.
Adrian looked away.
"That's the problem."
"What problem?"
"Your mother didn't just save me."
A pause.
"She discovered something."
The room suddenly felt smaller.
I put the photograph down.
"What did she discover?"
Adrian walked to the window again.
"Something people were willing to destroy lives over."
My heart started beating faster.
I thought about the card.
The message.
Emily Carter knows the truth.
"What does that have to do with me?"
Adrian looked directly at me.
"Everything."
I hated that answer.
I hated how everyone around me seemed to know pieces of my life that I didn't.
The security officer.
The mysterious caller.
Now Adrian.
Everyone had a secret.
Everyone except me.
"What happened to my mother?"
The question came out before I could stop it.
Adrian became quiet.
And that silence told me more than words could.
I stepped closer.
"Answer me."
His eyes softened.
"Your mother died because she tried to expose something."
My stomach dropped.
I had spent ten years believing my mother's death was an accident.
A simple car crash.
A terrible moment.
A tragedy.
That was what the police report said.
That was what everyone told me.
But Adrian Blackwood was standing in front of me telling me something completely different.
"No."
My voice was barely a whisper.
"My mother died in an accident."
Adrian didn't correct me.
He didn't need to.
His silence did it for him.
I backed away.
"No."
"Emily..."
"Don't."
I pointed at him.
"Don't say my name like you know me."
His expression changed.
A small crack appeared in the billionaire's perfect control.
"I know what happened to your mother."
"Then why didn't you tell me?"
He looked down.
"Because I failed her."
That answer surprised me.
Not because it made sense.
Because it sounded real.
For the first time since I entered that office, Adrian Blackwood looked like a person.
Not a CEO.
Not a powerful man.
Just someone carrying guilt.
"What was on that card?"
I asked.
Adrian's face changed immediately.
The warmth disappeared.
The fear returned.
"You found it?"
I nodded.
"You knew about it."
He didn't deny it.
"Where is it?"
I stared at him.
"Why?"
"Emily."
His voice became serious.
"Where is the card?"
I took one step back.
"You first."
The room went silent.
Adrian looked at me.
Then slowly nodded.
"Fair enough."
He sat down.
"The card contains information your mother collected before she died."
"What kind of information?"
"Proof."
"Proof of what?"
He looked toward the closed office door.
Then lowered his voice.
"That someone inside my company was responsible for what happened to her."
I felt a chill.
"Someone who works here?"
"Someone who has worked here for years."
"Who?"
Adrian didn't answer.
Instead, he asked:
"Did anyone else know you had it?"
I thought about Daniel.
The phone call.
The envelope.
The photograph.
I hesitated.
And Adrian noticed.
"Emily."
"What?"
"Who contacted you?"
My silence was enough.
His face became tense.
"Tell me."
"Someone called me last night."
"What did they say?"
"They told me not to give the card to anyone."
Adrian stood immediately.
"Did they tell you their name?"
"No."
"Did they threaten you?"
"No."
He looked terrified.
Not for himself.
For me.
That scared me more.
Because Adrian Blackwood was not a man who looked afraid easily.
"Where is the card now?" he asked.
I didn't answer.
His eyes narrowed.
"Emily."
I crossed my arms.
"Why should I trust you?"
The question stayed between us.
A billionaire.
A stranger.
A man connected to my mother's death.
A man who somehow knew my name before I walked into his office.
Adrian slowly sat back down.
"Because your mother trusted me."
I looked at him.
"And she died."
The words hit him.
Hard.
He looked away.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then Daniel's radio suddenly crackled.
Everyone turned.
A voice came through.
"Security alert. Unauthorized access detected on executive floor."
Daniel touched his radio.
"Location?"
A pause.
Then:
"Mr. Blackwood's private archive room."
Adrian's face changed.
"What?"
Daniel looked at him.
"The archive room."
Adrian moved toward the door.
"No one has access to that room."
I followed.
"What's inside?"
He stopped.
Then looked at me.
"The original files your mother collected."
My blood went cold.
The hallway outside was suddenly filled with security officers.
People running.
Phones ringing.
The entire floor had changed.
Something was happening.
Something connected to my mother.
Something connected to the card.
Daniel reached the archive room first.
He scanned his badge.
The light turned red.
Denied.
He tried again.
Red.
Again.
Nothing.
Adrian stepped forward.
"Move."
He used his own access card.
The screen flashed.
Green.
The lock clicked.
Everyone went silent.
The door slowly opened.
Adrian reached for the handle.
Then stopped.
Because from inside the dark archive room...
May you like
A phone was ringing.
And it was playing my mother's favorite song.
