Chapter 2: Ninety Thousand Dollars
At 8:45 the next morning, I stood outside a building so expensive that even the doorman looked like he had inherited a fortune.
I had spent the night beneath an awning near Bryant Park.
My clothes were still damp.
My shoes smelled terrible.
And I had spent the entire morning wondering whether the address on Adrian's card was a trap.
A man in a tailored gray suit approached me.
"Wren?""
I stepped backward.
"Who wants to know?""
"My name is Marco. Mr. Kane asked me to bring you upstairs.""
I studied him.
He was broad-shouldered, with a small scar running along his chin.
"Is Adrian alive?""
Marco nodded.
"Very much alive. Although he hasn't stopped asking where you are.""
"Why?""
"That's a question you should ask him.""
The elevator carried us to the thirty-second floor.
When the doors opened, I stepped into a marble lobby overlooking the Manhattan skyline.
I had never seen so much glass and polished stone in one place.
Adrian stood beside a floor-to-ceiling window.
He wore a black suit, and his injured side was covered beneath a white shirt.
A woman in a white coat was examining his bandages.
"You shouldn't be standing," she scolded.
Adrian ignored her.
"Wren.""
I stopped.
"You're alive.""
He smiled.
"Disappointed?""
"Honestly? A little surprised.""
Marco laughed.
Adrian gestured toward a chair.
"Sit down.""
I hesitated.
"Is there a reason I'm here?""
"Breakfast. And something else.""
A woman appeared with a silver tray.
Eggs, toast, fresh fruit, coffee, and enough food to feed several families.
My stomach made an embarrassing noise.
Adrian noticed.
"Eat.""
"I didn't come here for charity.""
"Neither did I invite you for charity.""
I sat down cautiously.
For several minutes, neither of us spoke.
Then Adrian placed a small folder on the table.
"Marco tells me you've been sleeping on the streets for ten years.""
I stopped chewing.
"Marco talks too much.""
"He's paid to notice things.""
"I don't need anyone investigating me.""
Adrian leaned back.
"Then tell me something yourself. Why did you refuse to cut your hair?""
My fingers immediately moved toward the tangled strands.
"It's personal.""
He didn't push.
Instead, he opened the folder.
Inside were documents.
A rental agreement.
A bank statement.
And a photograph of a beautiful apartment overlooking Central Park.
I stared at him.
"What is this?""
"Your new apartment.""
I blinked.
"My what?""
"Three bedrooms. Furnished. Security downstairs. The lease is paid for a year.""
I pushed the folder away.
"I can't accept that.""
"You can.""
"I don't even know you.""
"That's true.""
"Then why are you doing this?""
Adrian's expression softened.
"Because you could have walked away last night. You could have left me to die. Instead, you put yourself between me and two armed men.""
He paused.
"I don't forget things like that.""
I looked down at my hands.
Nobody had ever given me something without expecting something in return.
"There's more," he said.
Marco placed another document on the table.
"Mr. Kane has arranged medical care, new identification documents, and a meeting with an attorney who specializes in helping people recover lost records.""
I stared at the papers.
My eyes began to sting.
"Why?""
Adrian's voice became quieter.
"Because nobody should have to spend ten years sleeping in doorways.""
I wiped my cheek quickly.
"Thank you.""
He nodded.
Then the elevator doors opened.
A woman in a cream-colored designer dress walked into the room.
Her heels clicked sharply against the marble.
"Adrian, darling.""
She kissed his cheek.
Then she looked at me.
Her expression changed immediately.
"Who's this?""
"Wren," Adrian answered.
The woman looked me up and down.
My dirty jacket.
My battered backpack.
My tangled hair.
She covered her nose.
"Oh, my God. You brought a homeless woman into your penthouse?""
Adrian's eyes narrowed.
"Her name is Wren.""
"I can see that you're trying to be generous, but there are proper facilities for people like her.""
I put down my fork.
"I can leave.""
"No," Adrian said.
The woman gave a small laugh.
"Honestly, Adrian. You have a reputation to maintain.""
He stood.
Despite his bandaged side, he seemed to fill the entire room.
"Victoria, you're going to apologize.""
She stared at him.
"Excuse me?""
"You heard me.""
Victoria folded her arms.
"I am not apologizing to someone who probably slept in a subway station last night.""
Adrian walked toward her.
"Then you can leave.""
Her face went pale.
"You wouldn't.""
"Try me.""
Victoria grabbed her handbag.
"This is ridiculous. I'll tell Vincent about this.""
At the mention of that name, Adrian's expression changed.
"Tell my uncle whatever you want.""
She stormed toward the elevator.
The doors closed.
I stared at Adrian.
"Who was that?""
"Someone who needs to learn manners.""
He returned to his chair and pushed the folder toward me.
"There's one more thing.""
I sighed.
"Please don't tell me you're buying me a car.""
He actually smiled.
"Not today.""
Then he handed me a black envelope.
I opened it.
Inside was a cashier's check.
$90,000.
My fingers went numb.
I stared at the number.
Then at Adrian.
"Are you insane?""
Marco coughed to hide a laugh.
Adrian looked completely serious.
"It's yours.""
"Ninety thousand dollars?""
"Yes.""
"For what? Hiding you under garbage?""
"For saving my life.""
I pushed the envelope back.
"I can't take this.""
"Wren—"
"I said I can't!""
My voice cracked.
"I don't know how to handle that much money. I don't know who to trust. And I don't want to owe anyone.""
Adrian studied me.
Then he gently pushed the envelope back toward my side of the table.
"You don't owe me anything.""
I looked at him.
"Then why?""
He was quiet for a moment.
"Because I know what it's like to have everything taken away from you.""
Something in his voice made me look up.
There was pain behind his eyes.
Old pain.
The kind that didn't disappear with expensive suits or beautiful apartments.
I finally slipped the envelope into my backpack.
"Thank you.""
Adrian nodded.
"There's a salon downstairs. I want you to have a proper haircut, new clothes, and whatever else you need.""
I immediately stiffened.
"No.""
He frowned.
"No?""
"My hair stays.""
He glanced at the tangled mass reaching almost to my knees.
"All right. Nobody will touch it without your permission.""
I relaxed slightly.
A few minutes later, Marco escorted me into the elevator.
Before the doors closed, Adrian called after me.
"Wren?""
I turned.
"Yes?""
"Whatever happened to you ten years ago, you don't have to face it alone anymore.""
I couldn't answer.
I only nodded.
But as the elevator descended, Marco's phone rang.
He answered quietly.
"Yes, sir?""
A pause.
Then his expression hardened.
"Understood.""
He ended the call.
I looked at him.
"Everything okay?""
Marco hesitated.
"There's something you should know.""
"What?""
"Mr. Kane's uncle has been asking about you.""
My stomach tightened.
"Why?""
Marco looked directly at me.
"Because he recognized your name.""
Before I could ask another question, the elevator doors opened.
And standing in the lobby was a woman holding an old photograph.
She looked at me.
May you like
Then she whispered:
"Oh, my God. You're supposed to be dead.""
