Chapter 4 - The Enemy at His Table
Adrian had built his empire around one rule:
Never confuse loyalty with affection.
Affection made people careless.
Loyalty could be measured.
Bought.
Tested.
Until Marin.
Until Ivy.
Until Eric Cole's warning.
Someone inside Adrian's organization had arranged the betrayal that left him alone in that alley.
The suspects were few.
Luca.
Vincent Rourke, Adrian's financial director.
Samuel Creed, his attorney.
And Anthony Vale.
Adrian's uncle.
The man who had raised him after his father died.
Marin wanted nothing to do with any of them.
But Eric changed that.
Adrian brought him to a secure apartment the following evening.
When Marin entered, Eric stood.
Five years disappeared in one breath.
He looked older.
Thinner.
But unmistakably him.
"Marin."
She crossed the room and hit him.
Then hugged him.
Then hit him again.
"You left us."
"I was trying to keep you alive."
"You don't get to decide that alone!"
"I know."
"Does Ivy know?"
"No."
Marin covered her mouth.
Eric began crying.
"I thought about her every day."
Adrian quietly left them alone.
An hour later, Marin found him on the balcony.
"You knew we'd need privacy."
"Yes."
"Thank you."
Adrian nodded.
It was the first gratitude from Marin he had accepted without argument.
Eric's evidence revealed the conspiracy.
Victor Soren had been laundering money through businesses linked to Adrian's organization.
But someone within Adrian's own circle had approved it.
Eric had discovered the transactions.
That's why he'd been forced into hiding.
"Who?" Adrian asked.
Eric placed an old ledger on the table.
A signature appeared repeatedly.
A.V.
Adrian stared.
"That's impossible."
Marin looked at him.
"Your initials."
"Not my signature."
Eric nodded.
"Exactly."
Someone had been authorizing transactions using Adrian's identity.
Then Marin noticed something.
The handwriting.
She had spent years reading customer receipts.
Numbers.
Tips.
Signatures.
There was a peculiar hook on every seven.
She had seen it before.
"Wait."
Everyone looked at her.
Marin pulled a receipt from her purse.
Adrian frowned.
"What's that?"
"The bill from when you came into Earl's."
She pointed.
"Someone paid for your coffee after you left."
Adrian looked at the signature.
Anthony Vale.
His uncle.
The sevens matched.
Silence filled the room.
Adrian's face hardened.
"No."
"Adrian—"
"No."
Anthony had raised him.
Protected him.
Taught him everything.
Marin understood immediately.
Proof could hurt more than betrayal.
Because proof removed hope.
Adrian turned away.
Then his phone rang.
Luca.
Adrian answered.
His expression changed.
"What?"
Marin's stomach dropped.
Adrian looked directly at her.
"Ivy."
Marin stopped breathing.
"What about Ivy?"
Luca spoke rapidly through the phone.
Adrian grabbed his coat.
"Mrs. Alvarez called. Someone came to the building asking questions about your daughter."
Marin ran before he finished.
But when they reached the apartment, Ivy was safe.
Mrs. Alvarez had locked every door.
No one had entered.
On the hallway floor, however, was an envelope.
Inside was a photograph of Marin kneeling beside Adrian in the rain.
On the back were six words:
May you like
YOU SHOULD HAVE KEPT WALKING, MARIN COLE.
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