Chapter 4 - The Memory She Lost
The voice on the phone disappeared.
But the words stayed.
"Ask Chloe why she doesn't remember the night her parents died."
I felt like the entire room had shifted.
My fingers tightened around the edge of the table.
My parents.
Died.
The words sounded impossible.
Not because they were unfamiliar.
Because they were too familiar.
Like something buried deep inside me had just been pulled out into the light.
Adrian ended the call.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then Marcus spoke.
"Boss."
Adrian didn't answer.
His eyes were on me.
Not the way he had looked at me before.
Not like a suspect.
Not like a stranger.
Like he was trying to understand something that shouldn't exist.
"What does that mean?" I asked.
My voice sounded smaller than I wanted.
"Why would she say that?"
Adrian remained silent.
And that silence scared me.
"Adrian."
He looked away.
"How old were you when your parents died?"
The question hit me harder than I expected.
I stared at him.
"Why?"
"Answer me."
I hated the command in his voice.
But something about his expression stopped me from fighting.
"Seven."
Marcus exchanged a look with him.
I noticed.
And suddenly, I felt angry.
"Why are you both looking at each other like that?"
Adrian walked toward the window.
"Because Victoria knew something about your past."
"Everyone knows about my past."
"No."
He turned around.
"Not everyone."
The room became silent.
I crossed my arms.
"My parents died in a car accident."
The words came automatically.
I had said them hundreds of times.
To teachers.
To friends.
To people filling out paperwork.
A simple sentence.
A simple explanation.
"My father lost control of the car. They both died. I survived."
Adrian watched me.
"Who told you that?"
I froze.
"What?"
"Who told you the accident happened that way?"
I opened my mouth.
Then stopped.
Because suddenly...
I didn't know.
I remembered the funeral.
I remembered people wearing black.
I remembered a hospital room.
I remembered a woman crying.
But I didn't remember the accident.
Not the road.
Not the car.
Not the moment it happened.
Nothing.
My chest tightened.
"I was seven."
Adrian's voice softened slightly.
"Seven-year-olds don't remember everything."
"Exactly."
"Or someone makes sure they don't."
I looked at him.
"Are you saying someone erased my memories?"
"I don't know."
That answer was somehow worse.
Because he wasn't trying to scare me.
He was being honest.
And Adrian Vale being uncertain made the situation terrifying.
Marcus stepped forward.
"We need to leave."
Adrian nodded.
"Agreed."
I frowned.
"Leave?"
"This hotel is compromised."
"I can't just disappear."
"You can."
"No."
My voice surprised all three of us.
"I can't."
Adrian looked at me.
"I have a job. A life."
"Someone is watching you."
"I know."
"Someone put you in my path."
"I know."
"Someone knows something about your parents."
I swallowed.
"I know."
The room went quiet.
Then I said the only thing I could think of.
"I still don't know if I can trust you."
Adrian stared at me.
A strange emotion crossed his face.
Not anger.
Not offense.
Understanding.
"Good."
I blinked.
"What?"
"Don't trust me."
His answer caught me off guard.
"People who trust too easily don't survive around me."
For a moment, I saw the difference between Adrian Vale and every dangerous man I had ever heard about.
He didn't pretend to be good.
He didn't ask me to believe he was.
He knew exactly who he was.
And somehow, that made him more frightening.
Marcus opened the door.
Two security men stood outside.
Adrian looked at them.
"We leave through the private exit."
Then he looked at me.
"You stay beside me."
I almost laughed.
"Is that an order?"
"Yes."
"I don't take orders from strangers."
His eyes met mine.
"Then consider it a suggestion."
"That sounded exactly like an order."
For the first time, something almost like amusement appeared on his face.
Almost.
Then it disappeared.
Because his phone vibrated.
He checked the screen.
A message.
His expression changed.
"What?"
I asked.
He handed me the phone.
A photo appeared.
My apartment.
The front door.
Taken from across the street.
My blood went cold.
"When was this taken?"
Adrian didn't answer.
I already knew.
Because beneath the photo was a timestamp.
Five minutes ago.
Someone was outside my home.
Watching.
Waiting.
"I need to go there."
"No."
The answer came instantly.
"My apartment."
"No."
"Adrian."
"Absolutely not."
I stepped closer.
"My entire life is there."
"And that's why it's dangerous."
I stared at him.
"What if they already got inside?"
Nobody answered.
That was the worst part.
Because they didn't need to.
The possibility was enough.
We left the hotel through a private underground entrance.
I barely remembered the walk.
Everything felt unreal.
Yesterday, my biggest problem was finishing a charity event.
Today, I was standing beside a mafia boss while people watched my apartment.
My entire life had changed in less than twelve hours.
The car ride was silent.
Adrian sat beside me in the back seat.
Marcus sat in front.
Nobody spoke.
Finally, I asked:
"Who is Victoria?"
Adrian looked out the window.
"Someone I trusted."
"That sounds like a mistake."
"It was."
"What happened?"
A long pause.
"She betrayed me."
I looked at him.
"And now she knows me?"
"Apparently."
"Why?"
His jaw tightened.
"That's what we're going to find out."
When we reached my building, I immediately knew something was wrong.
The front entrance looked normal.
Too normal.
Adrian noticed it too.
"Stay in the car."
"No."
He looked at me.
"Chloe."
"I live here."
"You don't know what you're walking into."
I looked at him.
"And neither do you."
For a second, neither of us moved.
Then Adrian opened the door.
"Stay behind me."
I followed.
The hallway was quiet.
Too quiet.
My apartment was on the third floor.
The elevator ride felt endless.
When the doors opened, I saw my hallway.
My door.
Everything looked exactly the same.
Except one thing.
The lock was damaged.
My breathing stopped.
Someone had tried to break in.
Adrian immediately raised his hand.
Everyone stopped.
He moved forward slowly.
His security team checked the area.
Nothing.
No movement.
No sound.
But the door was open.
Just slightly.
I whispered:
"Someone was inside."
Adrian looked at me.
"Don't move."
He stepped closer.
His hand reached toward the door.
Then he stopped.
Because something was hanging from the handle.
A small envelope.
My name was written on it.
Not printed.
Handwritten.
Chloe Henderson.
Adrian looked at the envelope.
Then at me.
"Did anyone know this address?"
I shook my head.
"No."
His expression darkened.
"Someone wanted you to find this."
My heart pounded.
He picked up the envelope carefully.
No one spoke.
Then Adrian opened it.
Inside was an old photograph.
A photograph of a little girl.
A seven-year-old girl.
Standing beside two adults.
My parents.
My hands started shaking.
Because I had never seen this picture before.
But there was something written on the back.
A sentence.
A sentence that made Adrian stop breathing.
He turned the photo around.
May you like
And I saw the words.
"Chloe was never supposed to survive."
