Chapter 2 - The Name He Shouldn't Have Known
Lena stopped breathing.
The stranger seemed to realize his mistake at exactly the same moment she did.
“How do you know my name?”
His expression did not change.
“You said the man outside called you Lena Park.”
“No.” She rose from the stool. “I said he said my name. I never told you what it was.”
Silence settled over the bar.
The bartender suddenly found something fascinating beneath the counter.
Lena took one step backward.
“Who are you?”
Before the stranger answered, Victor returned through the side entrance.
“Found Marcus.”
Lena spun around. “Where?”
“Two blocks south. He’s alive.”
The word alive frightened her more than anything else could have.
“Why wouldn’t he be alive?”
Victor glanced at the stranger.
That tiny movement told Lena who was in charge.
The tall man removed his hands from his pockets.
“Adrian Voss.”
Her stomach dropped.
Even Lena knew that name.
Voss International occupied forty-seven floors of black glass in downtown Manhattan. Newspapers described Adrian as a private-equity billionaire, shipping magnate, and notoriously private businessman.
People in neighborhoods like Lena’s used different words.
She had heard Marcus once tell a customer that half the businesses along the waterfront paid somebody who eventually answered to Adrian Voss.
“You’re him.”
“That depends what you've heard.”
“Enough.”
Lena grabbed her purse.
Adrian stepped aside rather than stopping her.
“You can leave.”
She hesitated.
“Then why does that sound like a threat?”
“Because you’re frightened.”
“I’m frightened because a man followed me for three blocks and then I ran into a billionaire who somehow knows exactly who I am.”
A hint of something almost like respect passed through Adrian’s eyes.
Victor approached him and whispered something.
Adrian's face hardened.
“What?” Lena demanded.
Adrian looked at her.
“The man following you wasn’t interested in you because of anything you’ve done.”
“How could you possibly know that?”
“Because he works for someone interested in me.”
Lena stared.
“I don't know you.”
“No,” Adrian said. “But apparently someone believes you do.”
That made no sense.
Then Lena remembered something.
Three nights earlier, a drunk customer at the Moonlight Café had left a leather envelope beneath booth seven.
She had found it while cleaning.
No name. No address.
Just a silver emblem pressed into the flap.
A letter V surrounded by thorns.
Lena had placed it in the café safe.
Her blood chilled.
“The envelope.”
Adrian went completely still.
“What envelope?”
She told him.
Victor swore.
Adrian's reaction was quieter, and therefore worse.
“Where is it?”
“The café.”
Adrian turned toward Victor. “Get it.”
“No.”
Both men looked at her.
Lena lifted her chin. “Marcus has the safe combination. You’re not sending men into his workplace in the middle of the night.”
“You think I'm asking permission?”
“And you think terrifying everybody is normal?”
For the first time, Adrian almost smiled.
Almost.
Then gunfire shattered the front window.
Adrian moved before Lena heard herself scream.
He caught her around the waist and drove both of them behind the marble bar as glass exploded across the floor.
Victor drew a pistol.
The bartender disappeared through a back door.
Three more shots punched through bottles above Lena’s head.
She pressed both hands over her ears.
Adrian covered her body with his.
“Stay down.”
“What is happening?”
“Someone wants that envelope.”
Another shot.
Then silence.
Victor's voice came from near the entrance.
“They’re gone.”
Adrian slowly lifted his head.
A thin line of blood ran along his cheek where flying glass had cut him.
Lena stared at it.
He had protected her.
A man she had known for less than ten minutes had thrown himself over her without hesitation.
That should have made her trust him.
Instead, it terrified her.
Because nobody moved that fast unless they had practiced.
Adrian noticed her staring.
“This is why you’re not going home tonight.”
“You don't get to decide that.”
“The people outside know your name, your workplace, and your car.”
Her anger disappeared.
Adrian stood and offered his hand.
Lena stared at it.
“What happens if I take that?”
“You survive the night.”
“And tomorrow?”
His gray eyes held hers.
“Tomorrow gets complicated.”
She took his hand.
That was how Lena Park entered Adrian Voss's world.
Not through romance.
Not through money.
Through a bullet-riddled window.
Adrian's penthouse overlooked Manhattan from sixty stories above the streets.
Lena hated everything about it.
The polished stone. The silent elevator. The guards stationed outside. The enormous windows that made the city look small enough to own.
She especially hated that Adrian appeared perfectly comfortable there.
Victor returned before dawn carrying the envelope.
Marcus was safe. Adrian had arranged for somebody to repair the café and compensate its owner.
Lena sat at a marble island while Adrian opened the envelope.
Inside were photographs.
Her photographs.
Lena leaving the café.
Lena entering her apartment.
Lena buying groceries.
Lena asleep against the window of a city bus.
Her face drained of color.
“Why?”
Adrian spread the pictures across the counter.
Then he found the final photograph.
It wasn't Lena.
It showed Adrian outside a courthouse beside an older man.
Written across the bottom were six words.
THE GIRL KNOWS WHERE YOUR FATHER DIED.
Adrian stared at Lena.
“My father was murdered seventeen years ago.”
“I was nine seventeen years ago.”
“Where did you grow up?”
“Different places.”
“Where?”
“Foster homes.”
His gaze sharpened.
“Before that?”
Lena hesitated.
“Queens.”
“What was your mother's name?”
“Why?”
“Answer me.”
Something in his tone snapped her patience.
“Grace Park.”
The room became silent.
Victor looked at Adrian.
Adrian's face lost all color.
Lena stood.
“What?”
Adrian picked up the photograph.
“Grace Park wasn't your mother's real name.”
Lena's heart began pounding.
“You don't know anything about my mother.”
“I know she disappeared seventeen years ago.”
“She died.”
“No.”
The single word landed like a bomb.
Adrian came closer.
“My father died the same night your mother disappeared.”
Lena backed away.
“You're lying.”
“I wish I were.”
“Why?”
Adrian looked down at the photographs.
“Because whoever has been watching you believes your mother left something behind.”
“What?”
Adrian raised his eyes.
“Evidence.”
The elevator chimed.
Victor's hand moved toward his weapon.
Nobody was supposed to have access to the private floor.
The doors opened.
A wounded man stumbled out.
Marcus.
Blood covered the front of his shirt.
Lena screamed his name and ran toward him.
Marcus collapsed into her arms.
“I'm sorry,” he gasped.
“Marcus, what happened?”
His hand closed around her wrist.
“They know.”
“Who?”
His terrified eyes moved toward Adrian.
Then back to Lena.
May you like
“They know what your mother hid inside you.”
And Marcus lost consciousness.
