Chapter 3 - The Woman He Was Never Supposed to Protect
“Put Clara on the phone.”
Adrian’s eyes hardened.
“No.”
Matthew Moretti laughed softly.
It was the same laugh Adrian remembered from childhood.
Warm.
Patient.
Almost fatherly.
That made it worse.
“You were always stubborn.”
“You’re dead.”
“Paperwork can be very persuasive.”
“You stood beside my mother’s grave.”
“Yes.”
“You raised me.”
“For a while.”
“Then you disappeared.”
“I survived.”
Adrian looked toward Clara.
She watched him, understanding enough from his expression to know the call was not good.
“Why do you want Clara?”
“Because she has something that belongs to me.”
“The drive belongs to the dead people whose lives you destroyed.”
A pause.
“So you opened it.”
“Yes.”
“Then Eleanor made the same mistake twice.”
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
“Careful.”
“There he is.”
“Who?”
“The boy she spent years trying to turn gentle.”
Adrian said nothing.
Matthew continued.
“You built a reputation pretending you became your father. You didn’t. Vittorio understood power. You understand punishment.”
“And you understand hiding.”
“That kept me alive.”
“You helped kill her.”
Silence.
Then:
“Eleanor made choices.”
Adrian nearly crushed the phone.
Across the room, Clara watched his breathing change.
She had seen him angry before.
At employees.
Lawyers.
Rivals.
But that anger had always been controlled.
This was different.
Personal anger did not burn cleanly.
It spread.
Clara stood despite Evelyn’s protest and walked toward him.
“Adrian.”
He did not look at her.
Matthew heard.
“There she is.”
Adrian’s voice dropped.
“If you say her name again—”
“You’ll what?”
Adrian closed his eyes.
Matthew knew.
That was the trap.
Adrian’s rule existed for a reason.
No emotional attachments.
No people enemies could turn into leverage.
No person who could make him reckless.
Until tonight, Clara had been an employee.
Annoying.
Clever.
Stubborn.
Beautiful in a way Adrian had deliberately refused to notice.
Now Matthew had heard Adrian protect her.
And that alone changed everything.
“You know your mistake?” Matthew asked.
“Answer your own question.”
“You caught her.”
Adrian looked at Clara.
She understood immediately.
When her legs failed, Adrian had caught her in front of Luca.
Then Peter had seen him step between them.
Protection had become visible.
Matthew continued.
“You could have let your doctor handle her. You could have sent her away. Instead you put yourself between her and Peter.”
“You have people watching inside my building.”
“I have people everywhere.”
Adrian glanced at Luca.
Luca’s face tightened.
“Then come here yourself.”
Matthew laughed.
“No.”
“Afraid?”
“Experienced.”
“What do you want?”
“The drive.”
“No.”
“Then tomorrow night, nine o’clock. Warehouse Seventeen.”
“Why would I walk into your warehouse?”
“Because Clara’s father left more than a USB drive.”
Clara froze.
Adrian saw it.
“What?”
“Samuel made a copy.”
Clara stepped closer.
“My father?”
Matthew heard her.
“Yes, sweetheart.”
Clara’s face hardened.
“Don’t call me that.”
Another laugh.
“I can see why Adrian likes you.”
Adrian hung up.
Clara stared.
“Why did you do that?”
“Because he was trying to control the conversation.”
“He said my father made a copy.”
“He wanted you to hear that.”
“What if it’s true?”
“Then we find it without going where he tells us.”
She shook her head.
“You don’t know my father.”
“Neither do you, apparently.”
The words came out harder than Adrian intended.
Clara flinched.
He regretted them immediately.
“I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, you did.”
“No.”
“You were right.”
She looked at the laptop.
“I didn’t know him.”
Adrian lowered his voice.
“Clara.”
“For years I thought he was drinking because my mother died.”
“She died when you were fifteen.”
“Yes.”
“And he changed afterward?”
“He changed after she died, but not immediately.”
Clara frowned as memories rearranged themselves.
“He started getting frightened around the time I turned eighteen.”
“Of what?”
“I don’t know.”
“Think.”
She closed her eyes.
“He changed our locks three times. Bought security cameras. Started checking underneath his car.”
Adrian and Luca exchanged a look.
“That isn’t grief,” Luca said.
“No,” Adrian replied. “That’s surveillance fear.”
Clara continued.
“He made me promise never to use his old computer.”
“Where is it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did he keep a safe?”
“He hated banks.”
“Not a bank safe. At home.”
“No.”
She stopped.
“There was something.”
“What?”
“A tackle box.”
Adrian frowned.
“Fishing?”
“My father didn’t fish.”
Luca nearly smiled.
“Where is it?”
“He kept it in the attic. Always locked.”
“Still at the house?”
Clara’s expression changed.
“The house was sold.”
“To whom?”
“I don’t know.”
Adrian looked at Luca.
“Find out.”
Luca pulled out his phone.
Clara sat again.
Evelyn finished bandaging her and stood.
“She needs rest.”
“I’m not leaving.”
Evelyn looked at Adrian.
“You two deserve each other.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It wasn’t.”
She packed her bag.
Before leaving, she put one hand on Adrian’s arm.
“Your mother would not want you becoming reckless because of this.”
Adrian looked at her.
“What did you know?”
Evelyn paused.
“About Eleanor?”
“Yes.”
“Enough to know she was afraid.”
“You never told me.”
“You were seventeen.”
“I’m thirty-four now.”
“And until tonight I believed the people she feared were dead.”
Adrian stared.
“Apparently we were both wrong.”
Evelyn left.
Clara watched him.
“You trust her?”
“Yes.”
“You trusted Peter.”
Adrian looked at her.
“That sounded accusatory.”
“It was practical.”
A faint smile touched his mouth.
“There you are.”
“What?”
“The accountant.”
“I never stopped being one.”
“No. You just arrived bleeding into a meeting and turned my entire life upside down.”
“You’re welcome.”
For the first time that night, Adrian laughed.
Briefly.
Quietly.
Clara stared at him.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re looking at me strangely.”
“I didn’t know you could laugh.”
“I charge extra for it.”
Her mouth curved.
The moment lasted two seconds.
Then Luca returned.
“Got the property records.”
“Who bought Samuel’s house?”
“Shell company.”
“Owner?”
“Another shell.”
“Keep going.”
“I did.”
Luca placed his phone on the desk.
Final beneficial owner:
MARCHAND FOUNDATION.
Clara stared.
“Charles bought my father’s house?”
“Two weeks after Samuel died,” Luca said.
Adrian stood.
“We’re going.”
Clara looked up.
“We?”
“No.”
“You just said—”
“You’re staying here.”
“You can’t possibly believe that’s going to work.”
“You’re injured.”
“You need someone who knows the house.”
“I can find an attic.”
“You don’t know which floorboard squeaks.”
Adrian stared at her.
“Seriously?”
“My father was paranoid. If someone bought that house searching for whatever he hid, they’ve probably searched obvious places.”
“And you know the not-obvious ones?”
“I grew up there.”
Luca muttered, “She has a point.”
Adrian looked at him.
“I wasn’t asking.”
Clara stood.
“I’m coming.”
“No.”
She crossed her arms.
Adrian’s eyes narrowed.
Clara’s did too.
Luca looked between them.
“I’m going to check the vehicles.”
He left.
Adrian lowered his voice.
“Do you understand what tonight means?”
“Yes.”
“No, you don’t.”
He stepped closer.
“Peter found you. Matthew knew you were here. Charles bought your father’s home. Anybody connected to that drive may assume you know everything on it.”
“I don’t.”
“They don’t care.”
Clara swallowed.
Adrian continued.
“If you walk out with me, you stop being an accountant who accidentally found something.”
“What do I become?”
“A side.”
“And if I stay?”
“Still a target.”
“Then the choice already disappeared.”
Adrian stared at her.
That was what frightened him.
She was right.
He reached into a drawer and removed a small phone.
“Take this.”
“What is it?”
“Encrypted.”
“I already have a phone.”
“Not anymore.”
She accepted it.
“What happened to mine?”
“It stays here.”
“That seems excessive.”
“You were followed.”
“Fair.”
He turned toward the door.
Clara caught his sleeve.
“Adrian.”
He looked at her hand.
She released him.
“What?”
“When Matthew said you caught me…”
“Yes?”
“Why did that matter?”
He could have lied.
Instead he said, “Because I have rules.”
“What kind?”
“Rules that keep people alive.”
“Such as?”
He hesitated.
“Never let anyone become indispensable.”
Clara looked at him.
“That sounds lonely.”
“It’s effective.”
“Was.”
One word.
It landed harder than anything Peter had said.
Adrian held her gaze.
Then walked away.
Forty minutes later, a black SUV stopped two blocks from Clara’s childhood home.
The neighborhood was quiet.
The storm had weakened.
Luca remained with the vehicle while Adrian and Clara approached on foot.
Clara stopped at the corner.
The house looked smaller than she remembered.
Blue siding.
White porch.
One crooked second-floor shutter her father never fixed.
Her childhood bedroom window.
All of it belonged to strangers now.
“No lights,” Adrian said.
“Maybe it’s empty.”
“Maybe.”
They reached the back door.
The lock had been replaced.
Adrian picked it faster than Clara expected.
She raised an eyebrow.
“Diverse education.”
Inside, the house smelled like dust and new paint.
Furniture had been removed.
Carpet ripped out.
Someone had searched thoroughly.
Clara’s expression fell.
“They destroyed it.”
Adrian examined gouges in the wall.
“They weren’t renovating.”
“No.”
She walked toward the stairs.
“Attic.”
They climbed.
At the top, Clara found the pull cord.
The attic stairs descended.
Adrian went first.
Nothing.
Boxes were open.
Insulation pulled aside.
Floorboards lifted.
Clara’s shoulders sagged.
“They got here first.”
Adrian shined his flashlight around.
“Maybe.”
She walked toward the far corner.
“There used to be a shelf.”
“Where?”
She pointed.
Gone.
Clara knelt.
Ran her hand over the wall.
“My dad marked my height here when I was little.”
Adrian crouched beside her.
Lines.
Ages.
Then one strange mark near the floor.
Not a height measurement.
A tiny carved fish.
Clara stared.
“My father hated fishing.”
Adrian almost smiled.
“Then maybe he liked terrible clues.”
She pressed the carved fish.
A section of molding loosened.
Behind it was a narrow cavity.
Inside sat a rusted green tackle box.
Clara inhaled sharply.
Adrian lifted it out.
Locked.
Clara searched the underside.
Nothing.
Then remembered.
“My birthday.”
“What?”
“He used my birthday for everything.”
She entered 0414.
The latch clicked.
Inside were papers.
Old photographs.
A cassette tape.
And a sealed envelope.
On the envelope:
CLARA — ONLY IF ELEANOR’S SON IS WITH YOU
Clara stared.
“That’s impossible.”
Adrian’s face tightened.
“Open it.”
Her fingers shook.
She tore the seal.
One sheet.
Her father’s handwriting.
Clara read the first line silently.
Then stopped.
“What?”
She looked at Adrian.
“My father knew you would come here.”
“How?”
She continued reading.
Her face changed.
“What does it say?”
Before Clara could answer, the floor below creaked.
Both froze.
A door closed downstairs.
Then another sound.
Footsteps.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Someone had entered the house.
Adrian extinguished his flashlight.
Clara held the letter against her chest.
The footsteps reached the stairs.
One step.
Then another.
And a familiar male voice called into the darkness.
“Clara? I know you found the box.”
May you like
It was Peter.
But he wasn’t alone.
