Chapter 3 - The Woman Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
Adrian reached the balcony first.
It was empty.
Elena followed seconds later.
“Where is she?”
Adrian checked the corridor.
Nothing.
“Adrian.”
He turned.
“That was your mother.”
“I know.”
“You told me she was dead.”
“I believed she was.”
“You had a photograph of her.”
“Because she was my mother.”
“Who supposedly died.”
Adrian said nothing.
Elena’s anger rose.
“Start talking.”
His security chief appeared.
“We found this.”
He handed Adrian an envelope.
Inside was a deed.
Parcel Seven.
Elena read the transfer history.
Aurelia Development Trust.
Vale Strategic Holdings.
Mercer Urban Holdings.
Her stomach dropped.
Vale.
She looked at Adrian.
“You owned it.”
“Indirectly.”
“And you sold it to Julian?”
“No.”
“The document says—”
“The signature isn’t mine.”
Elena examined it.
It looked perfect.
Adrian pointed toward the authorization code.
“That code belonged to one person.”
“Who?”
“My mother.”
The corridor went silent.
If Adrian was telling the truth, a dead woman had transferred Elena’s most important property to her ex-boyfriend one day before the biggest presentation of her career.
Julian had not humiliated Elena randomly.
Someone had arranged the entire evening.
Elena folded the deed.
“Then we find her.”
Adrian looked toward the empty stairwell.
“We will.”
A sound came from below.
A door slammed.
His security team moved.
Elena followed despite Adrian’s protest.
They descended into the hotel’s private administrative floor.
At the end of the corridor stood Julian.
Alone.
He looked terrified.
“Where is she?” Adrian asked.
Julian shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
“You knew about Parcel Seven.”
“Yes.”
“You knew Elena would receive those messages.”
“No.”
Adrian stepped closer.
Julian backed into the wall.
Elena intervened.
“Stop.”
Both men looked at her.
She held up the deed.
“Why did you buy this?”
Julian laughed bitterly.
“You still think I’m the villain.”
“You spent tonight humiliating me.”
“That was stupid.”
“Yes.”
“But this?”
He pointed at the document.
“This is bigger than you and me.”
“Then explain it.”
Julian looked at Adrian.
“I was offered Parcel Seven for thirty cents on the dollar.”
“By whom?”
“A lawyer.”
“Name.”
“Margaret Vale.”
Adrian went still.
Elena whispered, “Your mother?”
Julian nodded.
“She contacted me six weeks ago.”
Adrian grabbed his jacket.
“What did she want?”
“To destroy you.”
Elena watched Adrian’s face.
Nothing.
That frightened her.
Julian continued.
“She said Elena was the only weakness you had left.”
Adrian released him.
Elena felt cold.
“Why me?”
Julian looked almost ashamed.
“Because I told her.”
Adrian’s eyes narrowed.
Julian spoke quickly.
“She contacted me because she knew our history. I was angry. I told her things about Elena. About your marriage. About tonight.”
“You helped her?”
“At first.”
Elena stared at him.
“How much?”
Julian lowered his eyes.
“Enough.”
A phone rang.
Not Elena’s.
Adrian’s.
Unknown number.
He answered.
A woman’s voice filled the speaker.
“Hello, son.”
Adrian’s face lost all color.
Margaret Vale laughed softly.
“You always were difficult to surprise.”
“Where are you?”
“Close.”
“What do you want?”
“What was stolen from me.”
“You disappeared.”
“I survived.”
“You let me bury you.”
“You buried an empty coffin.”
Elena watched Adrian absorb the words.
Then Margaret said something else.
“And Elena?”
Adrian looked at his wife.
“Leave her out of this.”
“Oh, Adrian.”
Margaret sounded amused.
“She was never outside it.”
The call ended.
Elena’s phone vibrated.
Another photograph appeared.
This one was old.
Elena was perhaps six years old.
Beside her stood her father.
Behind them was Margaret Vale.
On the back of the photographed print were five handwritten words:
YOUR FATHER WORKED FOR HER.
Elena stared at the screen.
Her father had died when she was twelve.
At least, that was what she had always believed.
Then another message arrived.
HE DIDN’T DIE IN AN ACCIDENT.
A final photograph downloaded.
Elena opened it.
May you like
Her father was alive.
And the photograph had been taken that morning.
