Chapter 2 - THE WOMAN WHO DIDN’T EXISTAt 2:13 the next morning, Luca Bellini called Adrian with a problem.
It hit the marble floor of the penthouse office and shattered between the polished shoes of the most feared man in New York.
Every conversation stopped.
Two guards near the windows straightened.
A third man beside the desk lowered his head as if he had already witnessed Elena’s funeral.
Elena stared at the broken glass.
Then at the man standing above it.
Adrian Moretti.
Thirty-seven years old.
Owner of Moretti Holdings.
Publicly, he was a billionaire investor with interests in hotels, construction, shipping, and real estate.
Privately, people lowered their voices when they said his name.
Elena had been working in his Manhattan penthouse for exactly three days.
Three very terrifying days.
She had learned several rules quickly.
Never enter Adrian’s office without permission.
Never touch his desk.
Never ask about the armed men stationed outside the elevators.
And above all—
Never make Adrian Moretti repeat himself.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Elena whispered.
Adrian looked down at the broken glass.
Then slowly lifted his eyes to her.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, and dressed entirely in black. A thin scar crossed the edge of his right eyebrow. Tattoos disappeared beneath his collar and cuffs.
His expression was unreadable.
Behind him stood four men who looked as though smiling had been removed from their job descriptions.
Adrian spoke quietly.
“Did you cut yourself?”
Elena blinked.
That was not the question she expected.
“No.”
“Then why are you shaking?”
Because three weeks ago, I watched a man get murdered.
Because the killer knows I saw him.
Because I changed my name.
Because somebody followed me yesterday.
Because I think they finally found me.
Elena said none of those things.
“I’m nervous.”
Adrian’s gaze remained on her face.
“You’ve worked here three days.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you’re still nervous?”
She swallowed.
“A little.”
One of the guards almost smiled.
Adrian noticed.
The guard immediately looked at the wall.
Elena dropped to her knees and began collecting the pieces.
“Leave it.”
“I can clean it.”
“I said leave it.”
She froze.
Adrian stepped around the broken glass and reached toward the desk.
At that exact moment, something crashed in the hallway.
Elena jumped violently.
Her hand shot out.
Without thinking, she grabbed Adrian’s sleeve.
Everyone in the room stared at her hand.
Elena stared too.
She released him instantly.
“I’m sorry.”
Adrian’s eyes narrowed.
Then a guard named Marco entered.
“Boss, false alarm. One of the kitchen carts tipped over.”
Elena exhaled.
Adrian heard it.
So did everyone else.
Marco noticed the broken glass.
“What happened?”
Elena stood too quickly.
“I dropped my husband’s—”
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Elena’s face went white.
She had meant to say employer’s.
She had no idea why husband came out.
Maybe fear.
Maybe exhaustion.
Maybe because the word employer had vanished from her brain at the worst possible moment.
Marco’s eyebrows rose.
The guard by the window looked like he might choke.
Elena wanted the marble floor to open and swallow her.
“My—my employer’s glass,” she corrected desperately. “I meant employer. Obviously. Not husband. I don’t have a husband. And you’re definitely not—”
Stop talking.
Her brain screamed.
She continued anyway.
“I mean, not that there would be anything wrong with—”
Stop.
“Sir, I’m so sorry.”
Nobody moved.
Adrian Moretti had not smiled publicly in five years.
According to the household staff, he barely laughed.
His younger brother had been killed five years earlier, and something inside Adrian seemed to have been buried with him.
But now—
The corner of Adrian’s mouth moved.
Marco stared.
Adrian looked at Elena.
And smiled.
Not much.
Just enough.
But it transformed his entire face.
Marco whispered, “Well, I’ll be damned.”
Adrian’s smile disappeared.
“Marco.”
“Yes, boss.”
“Get out.”
Marco practically fled.
Elena wished she could follow.
Instead, Adrian crouched beside the broken glass.
“You should be more careful, Mrs. Moretti.”
Elena’s mouth fell open.
One guard coughed to hide a laugh.
Adrian stood.
For the first time since Elena had entered the room, the tension broke.
Then Adrian noticed something.
Her face had changed.
Not embarrassment.
Fear.
She was looking toward the hallway.
Adrian followed her gaze.
Nothing was there.
When he looked back, Elena had pulled her sleeve over her left wrist.
Too late.
Adrian had seen the bruise.
Dark fingerprints.
Not old.
Recent.
His expression hardened.
“Who did that?”
Elena immediately stepped backward.
“Nobody.”
“That wasn’t nobody.”
“I bumped into something.”
“A hand?”
She went still.
Adrian studied her.
Three days earlier, his house manager had hired Elena after another employee quit unexpectedly.
Her references had been good.
Almost too good.
She was twenty-eight, supposedly from Albany, previously employed by a family who had moved overseas.
Quiet.
Efficient.
Invisible.
But Adrian had built his life noticing what other people overlooked.
Elena checked locks twice.
She flinched whenever the elevator opened unexpectedly.
She never stood near windows after dark.
And every evening before leaving work, she looked both ways down the street.
This woman was hiding.
And whatever she was hiding from had left fingerprints on her wrist.
Adrian turned toward his security chief.
“Luca.”
A muscular man stepped forward.
“Boss.”
“Find out everything about Elena Rossi.”
Elena’s heart stopped.
“No.”
Everyone looked at her.
Adrian did too.
She realized what she had done.
“I mean… that’s unnecessary.”
Adrian’s voice became quiet.
“Why?”
Elena backed away.
“Because there’s nothing to find.”
“That is usually what people say when there is.”
She reached the doorway.
Adrian watched her.
“Elena.”
She stopped.
“For tonight,” he said, “you’re not going home alone.”
Her face drained of color.
“I have to.”
“No.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Then explain.”
She couldn’t.
Not with six armed men listening.
Not when one wrong person learning the truth could get someone else killed.
Elena shook her head.
“I need this job, Mr. Moretti. Please don’t ask questions.”
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
“Someone hurt you.”
“I can handle it.”
“People who can handle something usually don’t look terrified when a kitchen cart falls.”
Elena’s eyes filled despite her efforts.
Adrian noticed.
His tone changed.
“Who are you running from?”
Elena said nothing.
Adrian looked at Luca.
“Find out.”
Then he looked back at Elena.
“Quietly.”
She turned and hurried from the room.
Nobody spoke until she disappeared.
Luca approached Adrian.
“You think she’s dangerous?”
Adrian looked toward the empty doorway.
“No.”
“Then what?”
Adrian’s eyes hardened.
“I think someone dangerous believes she belongs to him.”
May you like
He glanced at the bruises he had seen on her wrist.
“And I want to know why.”
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