Chapter 3 - THE MURDER SHE SAWElena had spent eleven months trying to forget the sound of Daniel Voss hitting the pavement.
“Elena Rossi doesn’t exist.”
Adrian stood at the window of his penthouse overlooking Manhattan.
“Explain.”
“The identity exists. The woman doesn’t.”
Luca had spent fifteen years protecting Adrian. He rarely sounded confused.
Tonight he did.
“Her Social Security information checks out. Employment history checks out. Birth certificate checks out. References answer their phones. Everything looks perfect.”
“And?”
“It’s too perfect.”
Adrian turned from the window.
“Keep going.”
“The first reliable record connected to Elena Rossi appears eleven months ago. Before that, there’s almost nothing that can be independently verified.”
Adrian’s expression changed.
“Witness protection?”
“Possible. But there are inconsistencies.”
“Fake identity?”
“Professionally built.”
“For what purpose?”
“That’s what worries me.”
Adrian poured coffee.
Luca continued.
“I checked the family she claims to have worked for. They did move to London. They confirm employing her.”
“So?”
“Their former house manager told me Elena arrived with documents from an employment agency.”
“Which agency?”
“It closed nine months ago.”
Adrian stared into his coffee.
Somebody had manufactured Elena’s life.
The question was whether they were protecting her—
or positioning her.
“Search the cameras from yesterday,” Adrian said.
“Already did.”
“And?”
“At 6:42 p.m., she left through the service entrance.”
Adrian waited.
“She noticed a gray sedan across the street. She immediately returned inside.”
“Was she followed?”
“The sedan remained for seventeen minutes, then left.”
“Plate?”
“Stolen.”
Adrian’s eyes hardened.
“Find the car.”
“We’re working on it.”
“Faster.”
Luca hesitated.
“There’s something else.”
“What?”
“Your new maid made a phone call at 7:03.”
“To whom?”
“We don’t record private staff calls.”
“I know.”
“But the camera outside the laundry room caught part of the conversation.”
Adrian said nothing.
Luca read from his notes.
“She said, ‘I think he found me. If something happens, don’t come looking.’”
Adrian slowly placed the cup down.
“Who was on the other end?”
“Unknown.”
“Find out.”
“Already requested.”
Adrian stared at the lights below.
Five years earlier, his brother Matteo had died because Adrian had ignored one strange detail.
One unexplained car.
One nervous employee.
One threat everyone else dismissed.
He had promised himself never again.
At seven the next morning, Elena arrived for work.
She looked exhausted.
She also looked angry.
She found Adrian in the breakfast room.
“Did you investigate me?”
Adrian lowered the newspaper.
“Yes.”
Her face tightened.
“You had no right.”
“People following my employees become my concern.”
“I’m not your responsibility.”
“Technically, while you’re inside my home, you are.”
“I’m a maid.”
“You’re also a terrible liar.”
She folded her arms.
“That isn’t in my job description.”
“It should be.”
For one dangerous second, Elena almost laughed.
She stopped herself.
Adrian noticed.
“You slept badly.”
“Were you investigating my sleep too?”
“No. You have dark circles under your eyes.”
“I appreciate the observation.”
“You’re sarcastic before eight.”
“It’s a survival mechanism.”
The words came out before she could stop them.
Adrian’s expression shifted.
“Survival from what?”
Elena looked away.
“Coffee?”
“Elena.”
“I’m working.”
She reached for his cup.
He covered it with one hand.
“Sit.”
“I’m not sitting.”
“That wasn’t—”
“If you say it was an order, I’m quitting.”
His eyebrow lifted.
People did not interrupt Adrian Moretti.
People certainly did not threaten to quit while he was speaking.
Elena seemed to realize it too.
But she stood her ground.
Finally Adrian removed his hand from the cup.
“You’re unusual.”
“So I’ve been told.”
She poured the coffee.
Then he noticed the tiny cut beneath her ear.
Fresh.
His voice hardened.
“Where did that come from?”
Her hand moved instinctively toward it.
“Nothing.”
Adrian stood.
Elena stepped back.
“Don’t.”
He stopped immediately.
Something about that word carried more fear than anger.
His hands remained at his sides.
“All right.”
She looked surprised.
He lowered his voice.
“I’m not going to touch you.”
Elena swallowed.
Adrian continued.
“But somebody did.”
Silence.
“Last night?”
She looked toward the open doorway.
“No.”
“Who?”
Her eyes returned to his.
For several seconds, Adrian saw the war happening behind them.
Tell him.
Don’t tell him.
Trust him.
Never trust anyone.
Finally Elena whispered, “You can’t help me.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know who you are.”
“So does half the city.”
“No.”
Her voice dropped.
“I know who you really are.”
The room changed.
Adrian’s expression became unreadable.
Elena immediately regretted speaking.
“How?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“Elena.”
She backed toward the door.
“I need to work.”
Adrian let her go.
But by noon, Luca had another discovery.
The gray sedan had been found abandoned beneath an overpass in Queens.
Inside were photographs.
Twenty-seven photographs.
All of Elena.
Entering grocery stores.
Walking home.
Boarding the subway.
Sitting in a café.
And one photograph taken through the window of Adrian’s penthouse.
Luca laid them across Adrian’s desk.
“We have a bigger problem.”
Adrian picked up the last photograph.
On the back, written in black ink, were five words:
SHE DOESN’T BELONG TO YOU.
Adrian stared at it.
“Find Elena.”
Luca reached for his phone.
Before he could call—
A scream came from downstairs.
Adrian was already moving.
He reached the servants’ corridor seconds later.
Elena stood against the wall.
Her face was white.
A bouquet of red roses lay on the floor.
There was no card.
Just a photograph buried among the stems.
Elena’s photograph.
Taken three weeks earlier.
On the back:
YOU SHOULD HAVE KEPT QUIET.
Adrian picked it up.
Elena whispered, “Now you understand.”
“No.”
His voice was cold.
“Now I understand you were right about being hunted.”
He looked at her.
“What I don’t understand is why.”
Elena closed her eyes.
May you like
When she opened them again, there was nowhere left to run.
“I witnessed a murder.”
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