Chapter 4 - The Woman Who Disappeared
I went.
Of course I went.
I simply did not go alone.
Stellan followed three cars behind me despite my argument that the message explicitly said not to.
“You’re terrible at following instructions,” I told him.
“So are you.”
“That doesn’t make it better.”
“No. It makes us compatible.”
I stared at him.
He seemed to realize what he had said.
Neither of us mentioned it.
The address led to an abandoned church outside Evanston.
I entered through a side door.
Dust floated through moonlight.
“Lillian?”
Nothing.
Then a woman stepped from behind the altar.
Seven years disappeared.
She looked older.
So did I.
But she was my sister.
I crossed the distance between us.
The first thing I did was slap her.
The second was throw my arms around her.
She sobbed against my shoulder.
“I’m sorry.”
“You let me think you were dead.”
“I know.”
“You let Mom die thinking—”
“No.”
Lillian pulled back.
“Mom knew.”
That hurt differently.
“She helped me disappear.”
I stepped away.
“Why?”
“Because Victor Hale threatened everyone I loved.”
She looked toward the door.
“You shouldn’t have come.”
“You sent the message.”
“No, I didn’t.”
Everything inside me went cold.
Stellan appeared instantly.
“Down!”
The church windows shattered.
We dropped behind the pews.
Stellan’s security team moved in from both entrances.
There was shouting outside.
Then engines.
Then silence.
Stellan grabbed my shoulders.
“You hurt?”
“No.”
He looked at Lillian.
She stared at him as if she had seen a ghost.
“Stellan.”
“Where is the child?”
Lillian’s face collapsed.
“What child?” I asked.
Nobody answered.
“Lillian.”
Stellan’s voice softened.
“Where is Adrian’s child?”
She began crying.
“He’s safe.”
“He?”
“My son.”
I sat down.
Some revelations were too large to receive standing.
I had a nephew.
Adrian had a son.
Stellan had a nephew.
“His name is Noah,” Lillian whispered. “He’s six.”
Stellan turned away.
His shoulders rose once.
Then fell.
When he faced us again, his expression was controlled.
But his eyes were wet.
“Take me to him.”
“I can’t.”
“Lillian.”
“Victor doesn’t know where he is. That is the only reason Noah is alive.”
She explained everything.
After Adrian died, Lillian had lived under three names in four states. Noah stayed with a retired nurse who had helped her after his birth.
She had returned to Chicago because she finally had evidence strong enough to destroy Hale.
“But someone inside Voss is feeding him information,” she said.
“Richard?” I asked.
Lillian shook her head.
“No.”
Stellan froze.
“You’re sure?”
“Richard helped Adrian.”
“Then why was he searching my office?”
“Probably because he knows the same thing I know.”
“What?”
Lillian looked directly at Stellan.
“Your chief financial officer is working for Hale.”
Nathan Cross.
Stellan’s best friend since college.
The man whose photograph sat on the shelf in Stellan’s office.
The man who had introduced Adrian to Lillian.
Stellan said nothing for almost ten seconds.
Then his phone rang.
Nathan.
Stellan answered.
“Where are you?”
Nathan sounded calm.
“At your penthouse.”
My blood froze.
Hazel.
I grabbed Stellan’s arm.
Nathan continued.
“There’s been a security issue. You should come back.”
Stellan’s eyes found mine.
“Is Hazel there?”
A pause.
“Yes.”
“Put her on.”
Another pause.
Then Hazel’s tiny voice.
“Mr. Stellan?”
I nearly collapsed.
“I’m here, sweetheart,” Stellan said.
“There are lots of men here.”
His face hardened.
“Go into my bedroom and lock the door.”
Nathan interrupted.
“That won’t be necessary.”
Stellan’s voice changed.
I finally understood why grown men became nervous when he spoke quietly.
“If anything happens to that child, Nathan, there will be nowhere on this earth you can stand where I won’t find you.”
Silence.
Then Nathan laughed.
“You sound like Adrian.”
The call ended.
We drove back at terrifying speed.
By the time we reached the penthouse, Nathan was gone.
Hazel was unharmed.
But the safe had been opened.
The flash drive was gone.
And on Stellan’s desk sat a photograph.
Adrian and Nathan.
Written across Adrian’s face in black ink were three words.
HE KNEW TOO MUCH.
Stellan stared at it.
I reached for his hand without thinking.
He looked down at our fingers.
Then at me.
“I’m going to end this.”
“No.”
He frowned.
“We are.”
“Jo—”
“My sister lost seven years. Your brother lost his life. My daughter was threatened.”
I tightened my grip.
“You don’t get to put me behind glass and call it protection.”
Something changed between us then.
Not romance.
Not yet.
Trust.
May you like
The dangerous kind.
The kind that makes another person capable of breaking your heart.
