Chapter 3 - The Blind Woman Who Heard Too Much
By sunrise, Adrian's mansion had become a command center.
Phones rang.
Doors opened and closed.
Men whispered in hallways.
I sat at the kitchen island listening.
Nobody noticed how much information sound carries.
Except Adrian.
He entered quietly.
“You’re listening.”
“Yes.”
“To what?”
“Your people.”
He pulled out the chair beside me.
“What did you hear?”
“Luca walks quickly but drags his right heel slightly.”
From across the room Luca said, “Old knee injury.”
“Your doctor taps his pen when he’s nervous.”
The tapping stopped.
“And someone who came into this kitchen fifteen minutes ago is wearing the same cologne as one of the men from the alley.”
Silence.
Total silence.
Adrian stood.
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“Think.”
I replayed the alley in my head.
Rain.
Footsteps.
Voices.
Cologne.
Sharp cedar with something citrus underneath.
“Whoever stood near the refrigerator.”
Nobody moved.
Adrian's voice turned frighteningly calm.
“Luca. Lock the house.”
A door slammed.
Then running footsteps.
Someone bolted.
“Stop him!”
Furniture crashed.
Seconds later, Luca returned breathing heavily.
“Got him.”
Adrian asked, “Who?”
Luca hesitated.
“Evan Mercer.”
Adrian became silent.
“Who is Evan?” I asked.
“My cousin.”
That explained the silence.
Evan was brought back.
“Adrian, this is insane.”
Adrian spoke quietly.
“Claire recognized your cologne.”
“A blind woman?”
I heard the contempt immediately.
I stood.
“Yes. The blind woman.”
Evan laughed.
“She doesn’t know anything.”
I tilted my head.
His voice.
Something about it.
“Say that again.”
“What?”
“That sentence.”
“What the hell is this?”
I stepped closer.
Adrian said nothing.
I listened.
Evan's breathing changed.
Then I remembered.
The alley.
“Anybody back there?”
Not Evan.
But later—
“Nothing?”
The second voice.
That had been him.
I pointed directly toward him.
“You were there.”
Evan stopped breathing for half a second.
That was enough.
Adrian said, “Take him downstairs.”
“Adrian—”
“Now.”
Two men removed Evan.
I grabbed Adrian's sleeve.
“What are you going to do?”
“Find out who he works for.”
“Without killing him.”
Silence.
“Adrian.”
“You’re remarkably demanding for a guest.”
“And you’re remarkably irritating for someone whose life I saved.”
Luca coughed to hide a laugh.
Adrian sighed.
“Fine.”
“Fine what?”
“He lives.”
“Thank you.”
“Don't thank me. I'm already regretting it.”
Later that afternoon, Lena arrived.
She ran through the foyer.
“Claire!”
I barely had time to open my arms.
She hugged me hard.
“You disappeared!”
“I’m okay.”
“Your apartment was destroyed!”
“I know.”
Then Lena noticed the silence around us.
“Who are these people?”
“Complicated.”
A deep voice answered.
“Adrian Moretti.”
Lena froze.
“The Adrian Moretti?”
“Yes.”
She pulled me behind her.
“Stay away from my sister.”
“Lena.”
“No.”
Adrian sounded amused.
“Your sister saved my life.”
“That doesn’t mean you get hers.”
The amusement vanished.
“No. It doesn't.”
For the first time, I heard something in Adrian's voice I hadn't expected.
Respect.
He promised Lena we would both be protected until the threat ended.
That evening, Adrian found me on the terrace.
Rain had finally stopped.
“You’re angry,” he said.
“You put guards around Lena.”
“To protect her.”
“She hates being followed.”
“So do you.”
“Yes.”
“You're remarkably similar.”
I smiled.
“Unfortunately.”
Adrian stood beside me.
“Claire.”
“Yes?”
“You understand that Evan isn't the person behind this.”
“I assumed.”
“He works for Victor Sloane.”
I knew that name too.
A rival organization.
“What does Sloane want?”
“Everything I have.”
“And now?”
“Now he wants you.”
My fingers tightened around my cane.
“Why?”
“Because Evan told him what you can do.”
“I can hear.”
“You identified one of his men from a voice and another from cologne.”
“So?”
“So Sloane believes you heard something else that night.”
“Did I?”
Adrian waited.
And suddenly I remembered.
One of the men in the alley had received a phone call.
I had barely noticed it then.
Three words.
“Friday. Union Station.”
I whispered them.
Adrian went still.
“What?”
“Friday. Union Station.”
His hand closed around mine.
“Claire.”
“What?”
May you like
“Friday is tomorrow.”
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