Chapter 4 - My Sister Knew His Name
“Sophie?”
I rushed toward the door.
Adrian caught my arm.
“Wait.”
“That’s my sister.”
“Which is exactly why you wait.”
The voice came again.
“Elena, are you in there?”
Sophie sounded frightened.
I looked at Adrian.
“If someone hurt her—”
He opened the door.
My younger sister stood in the hallway wearing jeans, sneakers, and the oversized university sweatshirt she used whenever she was anxious.
Her hair was tied into a messy ponytail.
She looked at me.
Then at Adrian.
Then Marcus.
“What the hell is going on?”
I grabbed her.
She hugged me tightly.
The instant her hand touched my face, she pulled back.
“What happened to your cheek?”
I didn't answer.
Her eyes moved to Marcus.
Marcus looked away.
Sophie's expression changed.
“You hit her?”
“Sophie.”
“You hit my sister?”
She moved toward him.
A bodyguard stepped between them.
Sophie looked at the bodyguard.
Then Adrian.
Then the open locker.
“This is insane.”
“What are you doing here?” I demanded.
Her anger disappeared.
“You texted me.”
“No, I didn't.”
“Yes, you did.”
She pulled out her phone.
The message appeared to come from my number.
Sophie, bring Mom's green cookbook to this address. Emergency. Don't call.
I felt cold.
The cookbook.
The memory card.
My sister had brought it.
She held a canvas tote bag.
Inside was the green cookbook.
“No,” I whispered.
Marcus stared at it.
Adrian immediately understood.
“The file is inside.”
Sophie looked at me.
“What file?”
I grabbed the bag.
“Did anyone follow you?”
“What?”
“Did you see a car?”
“I took an Uber.”
“Did anyone approach you?”
“No.”
Adrian's guard was already moving toward the entrance.
Marcus shook his head.
“This was planned.”
I turned on him.
“By who?”
“Whoever spoofed your number.”
Adrian looked toward Sophie.
“Did the message contain anything else?”
“No.”
“When did it arrive?”
“Twenty minutes ago.”
Twenty minutes.
While we were driving.
Someone knew where we were heading before we did.
That meant they were listening.
Marcus had warned us.
Meridian had installed Belladonna's network.
But we had left the bar.
Adrian looked at our phones.
“Turn everything off.”
We did.
His men removed batteries where possible.
The green cookbook sat on the metal counter.
I opened to page 212.
Chicken pot pie.
My mother's handwriting filled the margin.
More thyme than recipe says.
Behind the page, tucked into a small cut in the binding, was the memory card.
I removed it.
Marcus stared.
“There it is.”
I closed my fist.
Adrian looked at me.
“You decide.”
That surprised me.
“What?”
“It's yours.”
“You've been asking for it all night.”
“I was.”
“And now?”
“Now Daniel's letter says he trusted you.”
I looked at him.
“You don't know why.”
“No.”
“Neither do I.”
“Which means forcing you would be stupid.”
Marcus laughed.
“You think she can protect this?”
Adrian's eyes moved toward him.
“She protected it from you.”
Marcus stopped smiling.
Sophie looked between us.
“Someone needs to explain everything.”
I told her enough.
Not every detail.
Not Daniel.
Not the bodies.
Just that Marcus had been involved in financial crimes and the card contained evidence.
When I reached the part about the slap, Sophie stared at him.
Marcus looked ashamed.
I still didn't care.
She whispered, “You were going to marry him in six months.”
“I know.”
Marcus said, “I was trying to save her.”
Sophie snapped, “You dragged her across a bar.”
“I panicked.”
“You slapped her.”
“I know.”
She stared at him.
“You're lucky she's the one deciding whether you leave here alive.”
Adrian raised an eyebrow.
Sophie looked embarrassed.
“I assume that's how places like this work.”
For the first time that night, Adrian almost laughed.
We connected the memory card to an offline laptop from the storage office.
Four folders appeared.
ACCOUNTS.
CLIENTS.
PERSONAL.
Marcus leaned closer.
“Open 417.”
“No,” Adrian said.
“We need to know.”
“We need to make a copy first.”
He was right.
His bodyguard duplicated everything onto three separate drives.
One went to Adrian.
One to me.
One into a sealed envelope that his guard carried away without telling us where.
Then we opened 417.
There were twelve video files.
Seven spreadsheets.
A PDF labeled INSURANCE.
And one audio recording.
The first video showed Daniel Vale seated in an office.
Date stamp: six weeks before his death.
He looked tired.
“If you're watching this, Meridian knows I've discovered the exchange.”
The video continued.
“The company isn't simply collecting compromising information. It's manufacturing leverage. Creating evidence when none exists. Destroying reputations. Steering contracts. Buying prosecutors.”
Adrian stood perfectly still.
Daniel looked into the camera.
“Someone inside my brother's organization is feeding them confidential information.”
Adrian's bodyguard looked away.
Daniel continued.
“I don't know who.”
Adrian whispered, “Damn you, Danny.”
The second video showed a parking garage.
Daniel met a man.
The man's face was obscured.
Marcus stared.
“I know that coat.”
“Who?” I asked.
“Morton.”
The man handed Daniel an envelope.
Third video.
Daniel sat in his car.
“If something happens to me, James Morton is not acting alone.”
Fourth video.
A name appeared on a document.
CHARLES WYNN.
Meridian's CEO.
Fifth.
A bank transfer.
Sixth.
Photographs.
Seventh.
Daniel speaking again.
“Elena Carter may unknowingly possess the final authentication token.”
I stared at the screen.
“How?”
Daniel continued.
“Marcus Dean carried a Meridian security device to the May 14 gala. He placed it inside Elena's purse. I had arranged for a duplicate token to be switched into the device. Marcus retrieved the phone, but the physical token remained in Elena's purse lining.”
Marcus whispered, “Oh my God.”
I looked at him.
“You really didn't know?”
“No.”
Sophie opened my old purse in her mind before I did.
“Your silver clutch.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“You kept the purse from that gala.”
“Where?”
“Mom's apartment.”
My heart sank.
Adrian closed the laptop.
“We go there.”
Marcus stood.
“That's exactly what they want.”
Adrian turned.
“What?”
“They brought Sophie here because the card wasn't enough.”
Marcus pointed toward the Daniel video.
“They need the token.”
Sophie looked terrified now.
“What happens if they get it?”
Marcus answered.
“They erase the real ledger and replace it with a clean copy.”
Adrian frowned.
“Why haven't they done that already?”
“Because the system requires two physical authenticators.”
“The token is one.”
“Yes.”
“And the other?”
Marcus looked at the brass key.
“No.”
Adrian's eyes narrowed.
Marcus whispered, “The key isn't for a locker.”
We all looked toward locker 417.
Marcus shook his head.
“Daniel hid the key here, but it doesn't belong here.”
“What does it belong to?”
“A Meridian hardware vault.”
Adrian's expression turned cold.
“So they need the key and Elena's token.”
“Yes.”
“And we've conveniently collected both.”
Marcus nodded.
“Exactly.”
A distant alarm began ringing.
Not inside the storage facility.
Outside.
Then we heard tires.
Several vehicles.
Adrian's guard peered through a window.
“Three SUVs.”
Marcus whispered, “They're here.”
Adrian looked at me.
“Back exit?”
The guard nodded.
We moved quickly.
Sophie held my hand.
The laptop went into Adrian's bag.
I kept one drive inside my blouse.
The memory card went into my shoe.
Not elegant.
But nobody was getting it easily.
We escaped through an alley just as men entered the front.
Adrian had another vehicle waiting two streets away.
We drove toward Queens.
Nobody spoke for several minutes.
Then Sophie's phone rang.
We had forgotten to power it off.
Unknown number.
Adrian gestured.
“Answer.”
Sophie put it on speaker.
A man's voice.
Calm.
Older.
“Elena.”
I said nothing.
He continued.
“I assume Mr. Vale is with you.”
Adrian looked at the phone.
“Who is this?”
The man laughed softly.
“You sound like Daniel.”
Adrian's face changed.
“Wynn.”
Marcus closed his eyes.
Charles Wynn.
CEO of Meridian.
The voice continued.
“Bring me the card, Adrian.”
“No.”
“Then I'm afraid Elena's mother won't make it through the night.”
Sophie screamed.
I grabbed the phone.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing yet.”
“If you touch her—”
“You have forty minutes.”
The line went dead.
Sophie was already dialing Mom.
No answer.
Again.
No answer.
I felt panic swallowing every thought.
“Drive.”
Adrian did.
We reached my mother's apartment in twenty-one minutes.
The front door stood open.
I ran inside.
“Mom!”
No answer.
Living room empty.
Kitchen empty.
Bedroom empty.
Then Sophie screamed from the hallway.
I ran to her.
She was staring at the floor.
My mother's silver clutch sat beneath the coat rack.
The purse from the gala.
Its lining had been ripped open.
The token was gone.
Beside it lay my mother's phone.
A new video message was playing.
My mother sat tied to a chair.
And standing behind her was someone I recognized immediately.
Not Charles Wynn.
Not James Morton.
May you like
The man smiled into the camera.
It was Adrian's bodyguard.
