Chapter 2 - The Door Adrian Had Waited Twenty-Four Years to Open
Adrian crossed the ballroom without speaking.
Samuel followed.
So did I.
Emma Lane.
Twenty-eight.
Maid.
Still holding the silver tray Bianca had told me to use for champagne.
Nobody wanted champagne anymore.
The hotel was connected to the ballroom by a private corridor.
Suite 902 waited at the end.
Adrian stopped outside the door.
Two key cards in his hand.
Samuel looked at him.
“You don’t have to go in immediately.”
Adrian laughed once.
“I’ve had twenty-four years.”
He used the card.
The lock clicked.
Inside, a woman stood near the window.
Fifty-eight.
Dark hair streaked with gray.
Same eyes as Adrian.
Same narrow scar beneath the left eyebrow.
Beside her stood a man.
Sixty-one.
Broad shoulders.
Silver at the temples.
Adrian knew him immediately.
His father.
The man who disappeared eleven years earlier.
Nobody moved.
The woman whispered:
“Adrian.”
His breathing changed.
“You’re my mother.”
She nodded.
“Yes.”
His father stepped forward.
“Son.”
Adrian looked at him.
Then at her.
Then at both.
“You were together.”
“Yes.”
His mother began crying.
Adrian’s voice stayed calm.
“How long?”
“Ten months.”
Silence.
“You found each other ten months ago.”
His father nodded.
“Yes.”
“And decided to wait.”
His mother flinched.
“We decided to tell you.”
“But Mr. Vale asked you not to.”
“Yes.”
Adrian looked at Samuel.
“Where is the trust?”
Samuel placed the bank envelope on the table.
Adrian’s mother looked at it.
“You brought everything.”
Samuel nodded.
“He deserved everything.”
Adrian opened the first document.
Several accounts.
Real estate.
A private investment fund.
Old Russo holdings.
He looked at his mother.
“This was yours.”
“Yes.”
“Why did you hide it?”
“Because your grandfather controlled every account attached to my name.”
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
“So you moved it.”
“Yes.”
“Before disappearing.”
“Yes.”
His father looked down.
Adrian saw it.
“You helped him keep her away.”
His father nodded.
“At first.”
“Why?”
“Your grandfather showed me medical records.”
“Fake records.”
“I know that now.”
Adrian stepped closer.
“You believed she was dangerous.”
“Yes.”
“To whom?”
His father’s eyes filled.
“To you.”
Silence.
Adrian’s mother looked away.
He looked at his father.
“How long did you believe that?”
“Seven years.”
Adrian froze.
“Seven?”
“Yes.”
“You let me believe she was dead for seven years.”
His father swallowed.
“Yes.”
“And then?”
“I found the doctor who signed the records.”
“What did he say?”
“That your grandfather paid him.”
Adrian looked at his mother.
“That’s when he started searching.”
“Yes.”
His father continued.
“I searched four years before I disappeared.”
Adrian frowned.
“You disappeared because of her.”
“Yes.”
“Why not tell me?”
His father looked toward the window.
“Because your grandfather knew I had learned the truth.”
Adrian’s face hardened.
“He threatened me.”
His father shook his head.
“No.”
“Then who?”
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