Chapter 4: The Man in the Black Car
The first thing Adrian did was turn off every light in the salon.
The second thing he did was pull me away from the window.
“Don’t look outside,” he said.
Naturally, I looked.
A black sedan sat across the street, its engine running. The windows were tinted, but I could feel someone watching.
My skin went cold.
“They know I’m here.””
Adrian stood beside me, his expression unreadable.
“They know more than that.””
Marco moved toward the entrance.
“Boss, I can get the team here in five minutes.””
“No.””
Marco stopped.
“No?””
Adrian looked at him.
“If Vincent knows she’s alive, every person we trust could already be compromised.””
I stared at him.
“You think your own uncle wants me dead?””
Adrian didn’t answer immediately.
That scared me more than anything.
Finally, he said, “I think my uncle spent ten years making sure the world believed you were dead.””
Daniel, the stylist, slowly stepped away from us.
“I’m sorry, but I think I need someone to explain what’s happening.””
Nobody responded.
Because none of us had an explanation big enough.
A missing girl.
A stolen inheritance.
A burned mansion.
A mafia family connected to it all.
It sounded impossible.
Except I was standing in the middle of it.
Adrian looked at me.
“We’re leaving.””
“Where?””
“Somewhere safe.””
I almost laughed.
“Mr. Kane, I’ve spent ten years sleeping beside train stations and abandoned buildings. I don’t think safe exists for me.””
His eyes softened.
“It should have.””
Those three words hurt more than I expected.
Because they sounded like an apology.
And I wasn’t used to people apologizing for what happened to me.
We left through the back entrance.
Adrian’s driver pulled the car around while Marco watched the street.
As I stepped inside, I noticed Adrian kept looking behind us.
Not like a man afraid of being followed.
Like a man afraid of what he would find if he looked back.
The car drove through Manhattan.
For the first time in years, I saw the city from behind clean glass instead of cracked sidewalks.
Buildings that had always looked like mountains now passed beside me.
I touched the leather seat.
Everything felt unreal.
Adrian noticed.
“You’ve never been in a car like this?””
“No.””
“Never?””
I shook my head.
He looked away.
“You shouldn’t have had to learn how to survive.””
I watched him carefully.
“Why do you care?””
He didn’t answer.
So I asked again.
“Why?””
His fingers tightened around his phone.
“Because I know what it feels like to lose someone.””
I waited.
But he didn’t explain.
The car eventually stopped outside a massive building overlooking the city.
Not a home.
A fortress.
Security cameras covered every corner. Men in suits stood near the entrance.
I stopped walking.
“No.””
Adrian turned.
“What?””
“I can’t stay here.””
“Why?””
“Because people like you have enemies.””
A faint smile crossed his face.
“Wren, people like me are the reason enemies exist.””
“That’s exactly my point.””
For a moment, neither of us moved.
Then Adrian said quietly:
“You saved me because you thought I was a person.””
I looked at him.
“Because you were.””
“Then let me return the favor.””
I looked away.
Nobody had ever spoken to me like that.
Not like I was a problem to solve.
Not like I was something broken.
Like I mattered.
Inside the building, Marco brought Adrian a folder.
“Boss.””
Adrian opened it.
His expression changed.
“What is it?””
Marco lowered his voice.
“We checked the surveillance from last night.””
“And?””
“The men chasing you weren’t random.””
Adrian looked up.
“Who sent them?””
Marco hesitated.
“Someone using an old Kane family code.””
The room went silent.
Adrian’s face hardened.
“Vincent.””
Marco nodded.
I felt my stomach drop.
“He’s trying to kill you too?””
Adrian looked at me.
“No.””
His voice became colder.
“He’s trying to erase every person who can expose him.””
A second later, another piece of paper fell from the folder.
Adrian picked it up.
Then froze.
“What?””
He didn’t answer.
I stepped closer.
“What does it say?””
Slowly, he turned the page toward me.
It was a photograph.
A picture of a little girl.
Me.
Standing beside a man.
I recognized him instantly.
Not because I remembered his face.
Because I remembered his voice.
The same voice from the fire.
The same voice that told me to run.
At the bottom of the photograph was one sentence.
“Subject survived. Locate and terminate.””
Adrian’s hands tightened around the paper.
Then he whispered:
“Wren…”
I looked at him.
“Who is he?””
Adrian stared at the photograph.
May you like
And for the first time, I saw fear in his eyes.
“That man was supposed to be dead.””
