Chapter 2 - The Man Who Never Asked for Help
For several seconds, Adrian didn't speak.
Then he did something Claire never expected.
He reached down and carefully adjusted the pillow beneath her numb arm.
"Can you feel your fingers?"
Claire looked at him.
"Mostly."
"That's not an answer."
"They're a little numb."
Adrian pressed the call button beside the bed.
Within seconds, the bedroom door opened, and Mrs. Eleanor Whitmore, the elderly housekeeper, appeared.
"Mr. Mercer?"
"Bring breakfast upstairs. Something warm. And have Thomas drive Ms. Bennett home after she's eaten."
Claire immediately shook her head.
"I can drive myself."
"You haven't slept."
"I don't need a chauffeur."
Adrian's expression hardened.
"That wasn't a negotiation."
Mrs. Whitmore lowered her eyes, but Claire caught the faintest smile on her face.
Before Claire could argue again, Lily stirred.
"Daddy?"
Adrian's entire demeanor changed.
He leaned closer.
"I'm here, sweetheart."
Lily opened her eyes, looked at him, then glanced at Claire.
Her little fingers tightened around Claire's hand.
"Don't make her go."
The room became silent.
Adrian looked at his daughter.
"Nobody's making anyone go."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
Lily seemed satisfied. She closed her eyes again, but not before whispering something that made Claire's chest ache.
"Claire makes the bad dreams stop."
Adrian said nothing.
He simply stood beside the bed, one hand resting on the blanket.
For the first time since Claire had met him, he looked like a man who didn't know what to do.
At eleven thirty, Claire finally arrived at her small apartment in Dorchester.
She lived on the second floor of an aging brick building with unreliable heating and a neighbor who played television too loudly.
It wasn't luxurious.
But it was hers.
Her mother had once told her that a small home filled with kindness was worth more than a mansion filled with fear.
Claire had believed that long before meeting Adrian Mercer.
She slept for four hours, woke to a dozen missed calls from her landlord, and discovered a message from Mrs. Whitmore.
Mr. Mercer requests that you return tomorrow morning. Lily has been asking for you.
Claire smiled.
Then another message appeared.
There is something else. Please don't discuss last night's events with anyone outside the household.
Her smile disappeared.
The next morning, Claire returned to the mansion.
She noticed two unfamiliar black SUVs parked near the entrance.
Inside, the atmosphere had changed.
Men in dark suits stood near the staircase. The security guards were speaking in low voices. Even the kitchen staff seemed unusually nervous.
Mrs. Whitmore met her near the pantry.
"Something happened?"
The housekeeper hesitated.
"Mr. Mercer received a threat."
Claire's stomach tightened.
"Against him?"
"Against the family."
Before Claire could ask more, Lily came racing down the stairs.
"CLAIRE!"
The little girl threw her arms around Claire's waist.
Claire laughed and bent to hug her.
"Easy, sweetheart. I missed you too."
Lily looked up.
"Did you bring the fox story?"
"Of course."
"And the stars?"
"Especially the stars."
Lily smiled.
Then a man's voice came from the doorway.
"Ms. Bennett. My office."
Adrian stood there.
His expression was unreadable.
Claire gently released Lily.
"I'll be back in a minute."
Lily caught her sleeve.
"Don't be long."
"I won't."
Adrian's office occupied the entire eastern side of the ground floor.
It was elegant without being comfortable. Dark walnut shelves, expensive paintings, a massive desk, and windows overlooking the snow-covered gardens.
A man Claire recognized as Adrian's attorney stood beside the fireplace.
Another man, younger and visibly tense, held a tablet.
Adrian motioned toward a chair.
"Sit."
Claire sat.
"Did I do something wrong?"
"No."
"Then why does everyone look like someone died?"
The attorney glanced at Adrian.
Something almost resembling amusement crossed the crime boss's face.
"Because someone is trying to make that happen."
Adrian turned the tablet toward her.
A photograph showed the mansion's eastern entrance.
Claire recognized the date immediately.
It had been taken the previous night.
At the bottom of the image was a message.
Pretty little family you've got. Would be a shame if something happened to the child.
Claire felt the blood drain from her face.
"Who sent this?"
"We don't know yet."
"Does Lily know?"
"No. And she won't."
Adrian studied her reaction.
"Someone has been watching this house. They know your routine. They know when you take Lily into the garden. They know which rooms she uses."
Claire stared at him.
"Why are you telling me?"
"Because your name was mentioned."
He placed another photograph on the desk.
It showed Claire standing outside Lily's bedroom window, holding a basket of laundry.
A red circle had been drawn around her face.
Beneath it were four words.
The new woman is vulnerable.
Claire felt sick.
Adrian's voice dropped.
"Until I identify whoever is behind this, you won't take Lily anywhere alone."
"Mr. Mercer, I'm her nanny. I'm not trained for this."
"I know."
"Then perhaps you should hire someone who is."
"I already have security."
"Then why do you need me?"
Adrian leaned forward.
"Because my daughter trusts you."
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then his phone rang.
He glanced at the screen.
His expression changed.
"Stay here."
He answered.
"What?"
A pause.
Then, quietly:
"Which room?"
Claire watched his jaw tighten.
"Don't touch anything. I'm coming."
He ended the call.
"What happened?" she asked.
Adrian looked toward the door.
"Someone entered Rebecca's old bedroom last night."
Claire frowned.
"I thought it was locked."
"It was."
"Did they steal something?"
Adrian's eyes met hers.
"No."
He paused.
"They left something."
May you like
And when he told her what it was, Claire realized the threat against Lily might be connected to a secret that had been buried for more than a year.
A secret Rebecca Mercer had died trying to protect.
