Chapter 3 - THE LOCKED ROOMAdrian did not sleep.
He spent the night in his office, staring at the copy of the photograph he had taken from Evelyn’s employment file.
Evelyn Hart.
Age twenty-eight.
Born in Queens.
Father: Thomas Hart.
Occupation: forensic accountant.
Cause of death: vehicle fire.
The file contained nothing unusual. It was clean, too clean. Whoever had prepared it had removed every trace of Thomas’s connection to the Bellini organization.
Adrian had known the name.
He had heard his father mention Thomas Hart once, years ago, during an argument with Stefano. At seventeen, Adrian had been ordered to leave the room. He had obeyed because his father’s anger frightened him.
Two days later, Thomas Hart died.
A month after that, Adrian’s father died in what police called a boating accident.
His mother died six months later from an overdose.
Stefano became the head of the family.
Adrian inherited the empire at twenty-three.
He had spent five years removing traitors, corrupt officers, and greedy relatives. He had believed he was protecting the family his parents left behind.
Now Evelyn had walked into his house wearing a silver locket and a dangerous question.
What had happened to Thomas Hart?
At seven in the morning, Adrian found her in the kitchen.
She was standing beside the stove in a silk robe, eating pancakes from a plate.
Mrs. Alvarez hovered nearby with an expression of delighted approval.
Adrian stopped in the doorway.
Evelyn looked over her shoulder. “Good morning.”
“You’re wearing a robe.”
“I noticed.”
“You weren’t supposed to leave your room.”
“I wasn’t aware I needed permission to eat breakfast.”
“You have guards.”
“I have guards outside the door. I don’t have guards inside the kitchen. I was hungry.”
Adrian walked toward the counter. “You could have called someone.”
“I did. Mrs. Alvarez came.”
“And if she had been an assassin?”
Evelyn took another bite. “Then I would have died surrounded by pancakes. There are worse endings.”
Mrs. Alvarez turned away to hide a smile.
Adrian poured himself coffee.
Evelyn watched him. “Did you find out who my father was?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“He worked for my father.”
“That’s all?”
“That’s what I know.”
“Then your intelligence network is overrated.”
His gaze met hers. “Your father stole money.”
“My father uncovered fraud.”
“He disappeared with account records.”
“He was killed.”
“You don’t know that.”
“My father was found inside a burned car.”
“That doesn’t prove murder.”
“You’re right,” she said. “It proves someone wanted him dead enough to burn the evidence.”
Adrian set down his cup.
The kitchen suddenly felt smaller.
“Why did you come here?”
“You know why.”
“To investigate?”
“To survive.”
He studied her. “You could have found another way.”
“Could I?”
“You could have gone to the police.”
“I did. They told me my father was a criminal and advised me to accept the insurance money.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I knew he was innocent.”
Adrian looked at the locket.
“What’s inside?”
“That’s none of your business.”
“It belonged to your father?”
“Yes.”
“Open it.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I said no.”
He stepped closer.
Evelyn did not move.
There was an unexpected tension between them, something sharp and alive. Adrian had been surrounded by beautiful women who wanted his attention. Evelyn wanted information. She did not soften when he frowned. She did not retreat when he threatened. She looked at him as if his power was an inconvenience.
It should have irritated him.
Instead, it made him want to know what she looked like when she stopped fighting.
His attention fell to her mouth.
Evelyn noticed.
Her voice lowered. “If you’re thinking about kissing me, don’t.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Your eyes were.”
“My eyes are private.”
“They’re currently on my lips.”
He looked away first.
It was the first victory she had won against him.
Before either of them could speak, the front doors opened. Stefano entered with two men behind him.
“Adrian,” he called.
Then he saw Evelyn.
His smile became warmer.
“Ah. The famous bride.”
Evelyn turned to face him. “The famous uncle.”
Stefano kissed the air beside her cheek. “You have spirit.”
“I’ve been told it’s a character flaw.”
“Not in this family.”
Adrian moved between them. “What do you want?”
“A problem at the harbor.”
“Handle it.”
“I need you there.”
“I’m busy.”
Stefano’s eyes shifted toward Evelyn. “Of course you are.”
The words sounded harmless.
The look beneath them did not.
Adrian said, “Leave.”
Stefano’s smile disappeared.
For one dangerous second, uncle and nephew stared at each other.
Then Stefano turned to Evelyn.
“Your father was a brave man.”
Evelyn’s blood went cold.
“You knew him?”
“Everyone who mattered knew Thomas Hart.”
“What happened to him?”
Stefano’s expression became sympathetic. “Some men confuse truth with courage. Your father made that mistake.”
Adrian’s hand closed into a fist.
“Get out,” he said.
Stefano walked away.
When the doors closed, Evelyn faced Adrian.
“What did he mean?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying.”
“You’ve known me for two days.”
“I’ve known men like you my whole life.”
“Then you know better than to accuse me without evidence.”
“I don’t need evidence to recognize fear.”
His face hardened. “You should stop digging.”
“I haven’t started.”
“You found a note in my library.”
“I found a note hidden in your family portrait.”
“That is digging.”
“That is curiosity.”
“Curiosity gets people killed.”
“So does silence.”
Adrian stepped closer. “You think I’m the enemy.”
“Are you?”
He had no answer.
That afternoon, Adrian took Evelyn to the west wing.
The corridor ended at a steel door guarded by a keypad. No family member was allowed beyond it without his permission.
“What is this?” she asked.
“Records.”
“Your family’s financial records?”
“Among other things.”
“And you’re taking me inside?”
“I want to know what you’re looking for.”
“You could simply ask.”
“I did. You lied.”
“So did you.”
He entered a code.
The door opened.
Inside were rows of file cabinets, old ledgers, sealed boxes, and shelves of hard drives. The air smelled of paper and metal.
Evelyn’s heart began to race.
She had searched for this room in the floor plans she stole from the municipal archives. The west wing had been added after the mansion’s original construction. The records room was the only place large enough to hold the Bellini family’s old accounts.
Adrian watched her closely.
“Start looking,” he said.
“Why?”
“If you want proof, find it.”
She turned toward him. “You’re allowing me to search your criminal empire?”
“I’m allowing you to find out whether I’m guilty.”
“And if I find something?”
“You show me.”
“What if it incriminates your uncle?”
“Then I deal with him.”
Evelyn moved to the nearest cabinet.
For two hours, she searched.
Most of the records were coded. Names appeared as initials. Payments were disguised as donations. Shipping companies changed ownership every year.
Then she found a box marked HART, T.
Her fingers froze.
Adrian came closer. “Open it.”
Inside were letters.
The first was dated two weeks before her father died.
Stefano,
The figures from the harbor clinics do not match the charitable reports. I know where the money is going, and I know who authorized the transfers. If you believe fear will keep me quiet, you have misunderstood me.
Thomas Hart
Evelyn read the letter twice.
There were seven more.
Each one became more urgent.
Each one named shell companies, secret accounts, and shipments moving through the Bellini-owned harbor.
The final letter contained a sentence that made her knees weaken.
If anything happens to me, Adrian must never inherit the company without knowing the truth. His father trusted the wrong brother.
Adrian read over her shoulder.
The color drained from his face.
“My father trusted Stefano,” he whispered.
Evelyn looked at him.
The room seemed to tilt.
“Your family didn’t just kill my father,” she said. “They killed him because he tried to protect you.”
Adrian took the letter from her hand.
His eyes moved over the words.
Then the lights went out.
A gunshot exploded through the darkness.
Evelyn felt Adrian grab her waist and pull her down.
May you like
Another shot struck the metal cabinet above them.
Somewhere in the records room, a man began to laugh.
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