Chapter 3 - Adrian Kensington Brought a Warning Instead of an Alibi

Adrian did not look surprised to see Caesar growling. That was what frightened me most.

He slowly raised both hands. "Before anyone does something permanent, you need to listen to me."

Jared stood between him and the table. "You have thirty seconds."

"Victor knows you found the box."

Miles swore.

Naomi closed her laptop.

I looked at the elevator doors behind Adrian. "How?"

Adrian met my eyes. "Because someone in this building is still reporting to him."

Jared's gaze moved toward the security panel.

"He's not your chief anymore?" I asked.

"Not as of six months ago," Jared said. "I dismissed him after Lena died."

Adrian gave a humorless laugh. "You dismissed his title. Not his people."

Caesar's growl faded into a low rumble.

"Why were you covering for him?" Jared asked.

Adrian looked exhausted. "Because he had my sister."

That answer broke the shape of the room.

Jared stared. "Sophie is in Paris."

"No. Sophie hasn't been in Paris for five months."

Adrian pulled out his phone and placed it on the table.

A photograph showed a young woman with dark hair sitting on a metal chair in a windowless room. She held a newspaper dated three days earlier.

"Victor took her after Lena died," Adrian said. "He told me that if I helped keep the investigation pointed away from certain accounts, Sophie would stay alive."

Jared's voice cracked for the first time. "Why didn't you come to me?"

"Because every time I tried, someone repeated my plan back to Victor within hours."

Naomi leaned forward. "Which accounts?"

Adrian looked at the red dog tag.

"The Bellandi accounts."

Jared went still.

Even I knew that name. Matteo Bellandi controlled construction unions, shipping companies, and enough politicians to make newspapers use careful language around him.

"Lena found payments from Kensington emergency housing contracts to Bellandi shell companies," Adrian said. "Victor handled the security side. I handled the signatures. I told myself I was buying time for Sophie."

"You signed stolen contracts," Naomi said.

"Yes."

"You helped bury Lena's evidence."

"Yes."

"And you came here tonight because?"

Adrian looked at Caesar. "Because Victor sent me a message saying the dog finally started eating."

My skin went cold.

"Why would that matter?" Miles asked.

"Because Victor thinks Caesar remembers him."

The dog pushed himself upright.

His body shook, but he did not lie back down.

Jared stared at him. "He does."

Adrian nodded. "Victor is afraid the dog will lead you to something else."

I crouched near Caesar. "What else happened that night?"

Miles rubbed his face. "After Lena fell, Caesar disappeared for almost twenty minutes."

"Where?"

"We couldn't find him."

Adrian's eyes widened. "The service elevator."

Jared turned. "What?"

"Victor used the service elevator that night. Caesar may have followed him."

We moved through the penthouse to the back corridor. Caesar came with us, slowly, refusing every attempt to help. He stopped at a stainless-steel service elevator and sniffed the seam of the doors.

Then he sat.

"He used to ride this with the kitchen staff," Miles said.

I pressed the call button.

The elevator opened.

Caesar stepped inside.

Jared looked at me. "Where do we go?"

"Don't ask me. Ask him."

We entered, leaving enough space around the dog. The panel showed penthouse, lobby, garage, kitchen, mechanical, and two private floors.

Caesar lifted one paw and touched nothing.

Then he sniffed the lower corner of the panel.

Naomi crouched. "There's a key slot."

Adrian pulled a slim brass key from his wallet.

Jared stared at him.

"Victor gave me this for restricted access," Adrian said.

He inserted it.

A hidden button lit beneath the garage level.

B2.

Jared's building did not officially have a second basement.

The elevator descended.

When the doors opened, cold air rolled over us.

The floor beyond was unfinished concrete lined with old storage cages. Dust covered everything except a narrow path leading toward the back wall.

Caesar followed it.

His nails clicked slowly against the concrete.

At the far end stood a locked steel door.

Scratches marked the bottom.

Dog scratches.

Miles whispered, "He was here."

Adrian tried his key.

The door opened.

Inside was a small room containing a broken chair, a bloodstained strip of fabric, and a wall-mounted camera pointed toward the center.

Naomi covered her mouth.

Jared stepped in and picked up the fabric.

It was blue silk.

Adrian's voice failed. "Sophie wore a blue dress the night Lena died."

On the concrete beside the chair lay a silver ring carved with a diagonal slash.

Victor's ring.

Then the camera above us clicked.

A red light came on.

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Someone was watching.

The red light kept blinking while none of us moved. Naomi finally raised her phone and photographed the room from every angle, warning us not to touch anything else until investigators could document it properly. Jared hated waiting, but this time he listened. Adrian sat on the concrete with both hands locked behind his neck, staring at the strip of blue silk as though it had become a verdict. I crouched beside Caesar. His breathing had quickened, yet he did not retreat from the room. I realized then that remembering was costing him something physical. Every clue we celebrated was also a place he had survived. I asked Miles to bring water and made Jared step back from the door so Caesar could choose whether to stay. He drank, then looked once more at the camera. The message was clear enough without words: someone on the other end already knew we had found the room.