Chapter 4 - BLOOD ON WHITE LINENAdrian landed on top of Evelyn, shielding her with his body.
The room smelled of gunpowder.
“Don’t move,” he whispered.
Evelyn’s cheek pressed against the cold floor. Adrian’s arm was locked around her waist, his weight covering her. His heartbeat struck against her ribs.
A third shot tore through the darkness.
Adrian rolled them behind a cabinet.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Stay here.”
“You’re not leaving me.”
“I’m going to kill whoever fired that weapon.”
“That’s not a plan.”
“It’s the beginning of one.”
He reached beneath his jacket and pulled a pistol.
Evelyn caught his sleeve. “There are two exits?”
“One.”
“Then they’re blocking it.”
Adrian looked at her.
She pointed toward the ceiling. “The old ventilation shaft.”
His eyes followed her gesture.
The mansion had been built before modern security systems. The ventilation shaft connected the records room to the servants’ corridor.
“You noticed that?”
“I notice things.”
He almost smiled.
Then a shadow moved at the far end of the room.
Adrian fired.
The bullet struck metal. Someone cursed.
Adrian pushed Evelyn toward the wall. “When I tell you, run left.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll be behind you.”
“You’d better be.”
“Now.”
They ran.
Another shot cracked through the air. Evelyn felt heat graze her arm. Adrian fired twice, forcing the attacker back.
They reached the ventilation access door.
Adrian kicked it open.
“Climb.”
Evelyn grabbed the metal ladder and pulled herself upward. Her dress caught on a jagged edge. She tore the fabric but kept moving.
Adrian climbed behind her.
A bullet struck the ladder.
The metal vibrated beneath Evelyn’s hands.
They crawled through the narrow shaft until Adrian found a maintenance hatch. He pushed it open, and they fell into a linen closet in the servants’ corridor.
Evelyn hit the floor hard.
Adrian landed beside her.
For a moment, neither moved.
Then he saw the blood on her arm.
His expression changed.
“You’re injured.”
“It’s a scratch.”
He tore a strip from his shirt and wrapped it around her arm.
“You’re bleeding.”
“So are you.”
Only then did she notice the dark stain spreading across his shoulder.
Adrian looked down. “It’s nothing.”
“Men who say that usually need stitches.”
“Men who need stitches usually don’t complain.”
“You’re impossible.”
“You’re alive.”
“That doesn’t make you right.”
He leaned closer to tighten the fabric.
His fingers were warm against her skin.
Evelyn tried to ignore the way her breath caught.
Adrian noticed.
His gaze lifted to hers.
The narrow closet became suddenly intimate. The shelves pressed against their shoulders. His face was inches from hers. Blood stained his white shirt. Her hand rested against his chest.
He looked at her mouth again.
This time, she did not tell him to stop.
The door slammed open.
Marcus, Adrian’s chief security officer, rushed inside with two guards.
“Boss!”
Adrian stood immediately.
The moment vanished.
“Search the records room,” he ordered. “Lock down the house. No one leaves.”
Marcus saw Evelyn’s torn dress and bleeding arm. “Is she hurt?”
“She’s fine.”
“I’m fine,” Evelyn corrected.
Adrian’s eyes cut toward her.
She folded her arms.
The security team searched the room for nearly an hour. They found no attacker. Whoever had fired the shots had escaped through a second passage.
But the attacker had left something behind.
A gold cufflink.
It bore the Moretti family crest.
Bianca.
When Adrian confronted her, she was in the ballroom preparing for a charity dinner.
She stood beneath the chandeliers in a red gown, surrounded by flowers and musicians. She looked calm until Adrian placed the cufflink on the table.
Her face changed.
“I don’t know how that got there.”
“Your family crest.”
“Half of New York owns something with the Moretti crest.”
“You were in the house.”
“I’m always in the house.”
“You knew Evelyn was searching the records.”
Bianca’s eyes moved toward Evelyn.
“I knew you were bringing a stranger into our lives.”
“You entered the west wing last night.”
“I wanted to speak to you.”
“The security system recorded you.”
Bianca’s lips parted.
Evelyn stared at her.
Adrian stepped closer. “Why did you shoot at us?”
“I didn’t.”
“Then explain the cufflink.”
Bianca looked at Stefano, who stood near the fireplace.
He had not spoken since Adrian entered the ballroom.
Evelyn noticed.
Stefano’s calm was too perfect.
Bianca saw it too.
“Uncle,” she whispered.
Stefano poured himself a drink. “This is absurd.”
Adrian pointed the gun at him.
The musicians stopped playing.
“Adrian,” Stefano said quietly, “put the weapon away.”
“Did you order the shooting?”
“You would point a gun at family?”
“You stopped being family when you put a price on my parents’ graves.”
Stefano’s face hardened.
Evelyn felt the room change.
Adrian was not guessing.
He had found something.
Perhaps not the full truth, but enough to make him dangerous to the people who had controlled him.
Stefano lifted his glass. “You are making a mistake.”
“No,” Adrian replied. “I made one when I trusted you.”
Stefano’s gaze shifted to Evelyn.
“You brought a vengeful woman into this house and expect to survive?”
Evelyn stepped forward. “You murdered my father.”
Stefano smiled.
It was not an admission.
It was worse.
“You think your father was innocent because he loved you. Love makes children blind.”
“My father was brave.”
“Your father was greedy.”
“You knew him.”
“I knew exactly what he was.”
Adrian moved between them.
“If you threaten her again, I’ll forget we share blood.”
Stefano laughed softly. “You believe she loves you?”
Evelyn felt Adrian stiffen.
“She doesn’t have to love me,” he said.
Stefano looked at her. “She came here to destroy us.”
“I came here because you murdered my father.”
“And when she discovers that Adrian’s father signed the order?”
Evelyn turned to Adrian.
Stefano continued.
“Your father approved the harbor operation. Thomas discovered too much and tried to blackmail him. The fire was unfortunate, but necessary.”
Adrian’s face became empty.
“Liar,” he said.
“Ask your mother.”
“My mother is dead.”
“Exactly.”
The gun in Adrian’s hand shook.
Stefano walked toward the doors.
No one stopped him.
Before leaving, he looked back at Evelyn.
“You think the truth will save you,” he said. “It will only show Adrian what you are.”
After he left, Bianca approached Adrian.
“Adrian, please.”
“Leave.”
“I didn’t shoot anyone.”
“I said leave.”
“You need me.”
“No,” he replied. “I needed the woman you pretended to be.”
Bianca’s eyes filled with tears.
For a moment, Evelyn almost felt sorry for her.
Then Bianca looked at Evelyn and whispered, “He will never love you.”
Evelyn answered quietly, “I didn’t come here for love.”
Bianca walked away.
Adrian remained beneath the chandelier, holding the gold cufflink.
Evelyn touched his arm.
He looked at her.
“Do you believe him?” she asked.
“No.”
“But you’re afraid he told the truth.”
Adrian’s voice was barely audible.
“My father may have ordered your father’s death.”
“And you?”
“I didn’t know.”
“I know.”
His eyes searched hers. “How?”
“Because if you had known, you wouldn’t look like that.”
For the first time, Adrian allowed himself to break.
He turned away, but Evelyn caught his hand.
He looked down at their joined fingers.
Neither of them spoke.
Then Adrian pulled her against him.
It was not gentle at first. It was desperate, furious, almost desperate enough to hurt. Evelyn’s hands gripped his jacket as his mouth found hers.
The kiss tasted like whiskey, blood, and fear.
She should have pushed him away.
Instead, she kissed him back.
When they finally separated, Adrian rested his forehead against hers.
“I promised to marry you,” he whispered.
“You did.”
“I don’t break promises.”
“Then prepare yourself.”
“For what?”
“For the day I stop pretending this is only an arrangement.”
His eyes darkened.
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“Is that a threat?”
“No,” Evelyn said. “It’s a warning.”
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