Chapter 4 - THE VELVET COAT
The silence that followed Leo’s words was entirely paralyzing.
You look like the man who watches us through the window at night.
Adrian went completely still. The breath seemed to leave his lungs in a single, silent rush. He looked at the small, barred window above my bed, then back at my six-year-old nephew.
“Leo,” I said, my voice cracking in terror. I dropped to my knees beside his cot, pulling his small, warm body into my chest. “Baby, what man? What are you talking about?”
Leo rested his chin on my wet shoulder, yawning. “The man in the black coat. He stands by the big tree outside. He looks like this man,” Leo pointed a sleepy finger at Adrian, “but he has a red line on his face. He told me to be a good boy.”
A violent shudder ripped through me. I squeezed Leo so tightly he squeaked in protest. Someone had been outside our window. Someone had spoken to my child.
Adrian didn’t hesitate. He pulled a sleek, black encrypted phone from his jacket pocket and hit a single button.
“Marcus,” Adrian barked into the phone, his voice carrying lethal authority. “Full estate lockdown. Now. Nobody enters or leaves the grounds. Put a perimeter team in the back courtyard, specifically around the staff quarters. Shoot to kill.”
He hung up, slipping the phone away, and turned to me.
“Pack his things. Whatever you can fit in a single bag. You have two minutes.”
“Where are we going?” I panicked, grabbing a duffel bag from under the bed and frantically throwing Leo’s clothes, his favorite stuffed bear, and his asthma inhaler inside.
“You aren’t staying in this room,” Adrian stated, his eyes constantly scanning the dark window. “If Elias is alive, and if he’s the one watching this boy, the staff quarters are compromised. You’re moving to the penthouse suite in the main house. It has bulletproof glass and biometric locks. Only I have access.”
“Why would your dead brother be watching my nephew?” I cried, zipping the bag shut. I scooped Leo into my arms. He wrapped his legs around my waist, burying his face in my neck, finally realizing something was terribly wrong.
Adrian looked at me, the heavy, dark weight of a decade’s worth of family secrets warring behind his eyes.
“Because if Elias is alive,” Adrian said softly, “he’s not here for my shipping routes. He’s here for the boy.”
Within three minutes, we were surrounded by six heavily armed men in dark suits. Marcus, a massive, scarred man who looked like he chewed gravel for breakfast, led the formation. They escorted us across the courtyard, their flashlights cutting through the darkness, sweeping the tree lines and the manicured hedges.
Every shadow felt like a monster. Every gust of wind felt like a footstep.
We entered the main house through a secure service elevator that required Adrian’s thumbprint and a retinal scan. The doors opened directly into the penthouse—a sprawling, magnificent space of white marble, black leather, and floor-to-ceiling glass overlooking Lake Michigan.
It was beautiful, but it felt like a very expensive cage.
Adrian locked the elevator down and turned to us.
“Put him in the master bedroom,” Adrian instructed gently, seeing how heavily Leo was shivering against me. “There’s a heavy duvet on the bed. Lock the door from the inside. I’ll stand guard in the living room.”
I nodded, carrying Leo into the massive bedroom. I laid him in the center of the enormous king-sized bed, wrapping him tightly in the down comforter.
“I’m scared, Auntie Maya,” Leo whimpered, his large brown eyes wide with unshed tears.
“I know, bug,” I whispered, kissing his forehead, smoothing his dark curls back. “But we’re safe here. Mr. Voss is going to protect us. Nobody can get in.”
I stayed with him until his breathing slowed, the exhaustion of a six-year-old finally winning over the fear. Once he was deeply asleep, I quietly backed out of the room, leaving the door cracked just enough to hear him.
I walked out into the massive living room.
Adrian was standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows, staring out at the dark waters of the lake. He had taken off his wet suit jacket, rolling the sleeves of his crisp white shirt up to his forearms. He looked incredibly isolated, carrying the weight of a violent empire entirely alone.
“How is he?” Adrian asked without turning around.
“He’s asleep,” I said softly, wrapping my arms around myself. I was still freezing in my wet uniform, my teeth chattering slightly.
Adrian finally turned. He noticed my violent shivering. He walked over to a leather sofa, picked up a heavy, plush cashmere throw blanket, and stepped toward me. Without a word, he draped it over my shoulders, his hands lingering for a brief, electric second on my arms.
“Thank you,” I whispered, pulling the incredibly soft fabric tight around my neck.
“We need to talk about Clara,” Adrian said, gesturing for me to sit on the sofa. He sat on the heavy glass coffee table opposite me, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I said defensively. “She was my older sister. She was a good person. If she had your mother’s bracelet, I swear to you, there has to be an explanation. Clara wouldn’t hurt anyone.”
“I’m not accusing her of murder, Maya,” Adrian said softly. “I’m trying to understand the timeline. My brother Elias was a monster. He was ruthless, violent, and deeply unstable. My father intended to pass the syndicate to me, bypassing Elias. Five years ago, Elias snapped. He orchestrated a coup. He tried to kill my mother and me.”
I gasped, gripping the cashmere blanket tighter.
“He failed,” Adrian continued, his voice devoid of emotion. “The car bomb meant for us went off early. It killed him instead. Or so we thought.”
“And you think Clara was involved with him?” I asked, feeling sick to my stomach.
“My mother was killed three years ago, during a break-in,” Adrian explained. “Elias was already dead. But if Elias is alive... if he survived the bombing and went into hiding, he would need someone on the outside. Someone innocent-looking to move his money. To access my mother’s safe. A kindergarten teacher with no criminal record would be the perfect ghost.”
“Clara would never work with a monster,” I hissed, fiercely defending my sister’s memory.
“Maybe she didn’t know he was a monster,” Adrian countered gently. “Maybe she just knew him as a man.”
I shook my head, refusing to believe it.
Suddenly, a soft sound came from the master bedroom.
Thump.
I froze. Adrian instantly stood up, his hand dropping to the holster at his waist.
“Leo?” I called out, my voice trembling.
No answer.
Adrian drew his weapon and moved silently toward the cracked bedroom door. I followed right behind him, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs.
Adrian pushed the door wide open, aiming his gun into the darkness. He hit the light switch.
The bed was empty. The heavy duvet was thrown on the floor.
“Leo!” I screamed, rushing into the room, tearing the pillows away, looking under the massive bed. Nothing. He was gone.
Adrian swept the attached master bathroom, his weapon raised. “Clear.”
“How is he gone?” I sobbed, panic blinding me. “We were right outside! The windows are locked!”
Adrian lowered his gun, his eyes locking onto the center of the pristine, white king-sized bed.
“He didn’t leave,” Adrian whispered, his voice turning to ash. “He was taken.”
Lying perfectly folded in the center of the mattress, exactly where Leo had been sleeping, was a heavy, dark velvet coat. It was custom-made, entirely black, with a jagged tear across the right lapel.
“That’s Elias’s coat,” Adrian breathed, staring at the velvet. “The one he was wearing the day he died.”
May you like
I rushed to the bed, grabbing the heavy fabric. As I lifted the coat, something metallic hit the mattress.
It was a heavy, silver pocket watch.
