Chapter 2 - The Man Behind the Name
The next morning, Olivia was shelving mystery novels when her coworker Maya appeared beside her.
“Tell me you didn’t sit with Adrian DeMarco last night.”
Olivia kept shelving.
“Who?”
Maya showed her a photograph.
Olivia froze.
The man from the café stared back at her.
ADRIAN DEMARCO.
Below the photograph were words Olivia read twice.
Businessman.
Suspected organized-crime leader.
Multiple investigations.
No convictions.
She slowly lowered the phone.
“Oh.”
Maya stared at her.
“‘Oh’?”
“He seemed nice.”
“Nice?”
“He complimented my drawings.”
“Olivia.”
“And ate half my muffin.”
“You fed Adrian DeMarco?”
“He looked hungry.”
Maya covered her face.
“You are going to get murdered because you have no survival instincts.”
Olivia tried to laugh.
She couldn’t.
Because she remembered the man outside.
The serpent tattoo.
That evening, she collected Noah from his after-school program.
He immediately noticed something was wrong.
“You’re walking faster.”
“I’m cold.”
“You walk faster when you're worried too.”
Olivia looked at him.
Noah adjusted his backpack.
“Ninety-three percent of people change walking speed when emotionally distressed.”
“Where did you learn that?”
“Internet.”
“We’re limiting your internet.”
“No.”
She laughed despite herself.
At their apartment, Noah rushed to the window.
“There’s a peregrine.”
“Where?”
“Water tower.”
Olivia joined him.
Then she noticed the black sedan parked across the street.
Her smile disappeared.
The sedan remained there until midnight.
The next morning, it was gone.
Adrian called that afternoon.
“How did you get my number?”
“You wrote it inside your sketchbook.”
Olivia looked at the inside cover.
She had.
“That feels invasive.”
“I needed to ask you something.”
“The snake tattoo?”
Silence.
Adrian finally said, “Do you still have the drawing?”
“Yes.”
“I need to see it.”
An hour later, Adrian entered the bookstore.
Conversation died around him.
Olivia folded her arms.
“You have a weird effect on rooms.”
“I’ve been told.”
She handed him the sketch.
The tattooed man was visible behind another pedestrian.
Adrian stared at the page.
“Victor Soren.”
“You know him?”
“I know who he works for.”
“That doesn't sound comforting.”
“It shouldn't.”
Adrian looked toward her.
“Olivia, listen carefully. The man you saw belongs to a group that has been watching me.”
“Why?”
“Because they want something I have.”
“What?”
“Power.”
She stared at him.
“You really are what the newspapers say.”
Adrian didn’t answer immediately.
“Some of it.”
Olivia stepped backward.
Adrian noticed.
That movement bothered him more than he expected.
“You're safe.”
“You cannot promise that.”
“No.”
His answer surprised her.
“But I can make sure nobody gets close to you.”
“No.”
“Olivia—”
“I have a little brother.”
“I know.”
Her expression sharpened.
“You know?”
“You told me.”
She relaxed slightly.
Adrian continued.
“That is exactly why I’m putting protection near your apartment.”
“I don't want strangers following Noah.”
“They won't approach him.”
“I said no.”
“Then consider this the one time I’m ignoring you.”
She stared at him.
“You're unbelievably controlling.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“And irritating.”
“Frequently.”
“Do people ever tell you no?”
“Not twice.”
“Well, get comfortable.”
For the second time in a week, Adrian DeMarco nearly laughed.
Before leaving, he stopped.
“Olivia.”
“What?”
“If anything feels wrong—anything—you call me.”
He placed a card on the counter.
No company name.
Only a telephone number.
She looked at it.
“And if nothing feels wrong?”
“Then forget you ever met me.”
Olivia looked into his eyes.
Something about the answer felt final.
“You don't actually want me to do that.”
Adrian went silent.
She had seen through him again.
He left without answering.
Nine days after the café, Olivia arrived at Noah’s school at 4:10.
His teacher was waiting outside.
Alone.
“Ms. Carter?”
Olivia stopped.
“Where's Noah?”
The teacher’s face drained of color.
“A man came for him.”
The world went silent.
“What man?”
“He had identification. He said you’d been injured.”
“I didn't send anyone.”
The teacher reached for her phone.
Olivia was already dialing Adrian.
He didn't answer.
She called again.
Nothing.
Then her phone rang.
Unknown number.
Olivia answered.
“Hello?”
A distorted male voice spoke.
“Tell DeMarco we have the boy.”
The call ended.
Olivia stopped breathing.
At 2:03 the next morning, after police searches, unanswered questions, and hours that felt like years, her phone rang again.
Adrian.
She answered instantly.
His voice sounded different.
“Olivia.”
“Where is Noah?”
Silence.
“Adrian, where is my brother?”
“I’m going to bring him home.”
“Why did they take him?”
Another silence.
Then Adrian said the seven words that ended her ordinary life.
May you like
“Because of me, they took your brother.”
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