Chapter 2 - The File That Should Never Have Existed
Roman Blackmere's private office occupied the eastern wing of the mansion, behind two security doors and a corridor where even the senior staff rarely ventured.
I had passed that corridor every morning for eleven months.
I had never been invited inside.
When I entered, Roman stood behind his desk, reading a thin folder. His security chief, Dominic Shaw, waited near the windows with his hands folded behind his back.
"Sit down, Miss Vale," Roman said.
I remained standing.
His eyes lifted.
"That's not a request designed to frighten you."
"I'm comfortable standing, sir."
For the first time, something almost resembling amusement crossed his face.
"Then stand."
He closed the folder.
"Your references are fabricated. Your previous employer has no record of employing you. The address on your application belongs to an abandoned property in Pennsylvania."
My stomach tightened.
"I explained that I moved frequently."
"You explained several things. None of them were true."
Dominic shifted beside the window.
Roman noticed.
"Leave us."
"Roman—"
"Now."
Dominic obeyed, closing the door behind him.
The silence became unbearable.
"Am I being fired?" I asked.
"That depends."
"On what?"
"Whether someone is trying to find you."
I looked toward the door.
Roman noticed that too.
"If you want to leave this house, I won't physically stop you," he continued. "But if somebody has threatened you, I need to know whether my employees are being placed in danger."
"I'm not a danger to anyone."
"That isn't what I asked."
I stared at the polished floor.
He waited.
It was the waiting that unsettled me most. The men I had known before used silence as a weapon. They waited until fear made me speak, then twisted my words until I wished I had remained silent.
Roman appeared willing to wait forever.
Finally, I said, "I left a bad situation."
"How bad?"
"Bad enough."
His jaw tightened.
"Was it your husband?"
I shook my head.
"Your father?"
Another shake.
"Your employer?"
I said nothing.
Roman leaned back.
"Someone taught you that answering a question could get you hurt."
My throat closed.
"Mr. Blackmere, I don't want trouble."
"Neither do I."
That was the first lie I suspected from him. A man whose business depended on fear could hardly claim to avoid trouble.
He slid the folder across the desk.
Inside was a photograph of me taken outside a small grocery store six months earlier.
I had never seen the photograph before.
Beneath it was a second image, grainy and poorly lit. A man stood beside a black sedan, his face partially hidden beneath a cap.
I recognized his hands.
I recognized the silver ring on his right index finger.
My chair scraped backward.
"No."
Roman rose immediately, but he stopped several feet away.
"Who is he?"
I couldn't breathe.
"His name is Victor Sloane."
Roman's expression changed.
It was subtle, but I saw it. The name meant something to him.
"How do you know Victor Sloane?"
Because he had once promised to protect me.
Because he had taken everything from me instead.
Because the last time I had seen him, he had been standing over a bleeding man while telling me to forget what I had witnessed.
I swallowed hard.
"He was my guardian."
Roman looked at the photograph again.
"Then I suggest you tell me why your former guardian has been paying people to find you."
I wanted to tell him everything.
Instead, I whispered the only truth I could manage.
"Because he thinks I stole something from him."
"What did you steal?"
I met his eyes.
"Nothing."
For a moment, neither of us moved.
Then Roman picked up the folder and locked it inside his desk.
"Until we know what Sloane wants, you won't leave the grounds alone."
"You're giving me orders now?"
"I'm giving you a chance to survive long enough to make your own decisions."
I should have hated him for it.
Instead, I found myself wondering why the most dangerous man in the city seemed more concerned about my fear than the secrets I carried.
That evening, Dominic reported that a stranger had entered the estate's outer perimeter.
The man had left a message.
Three words, written on a card.
May you like
Give her back.
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