Chapter 2 - The Neighbor Upstairs Who Wasn’t Just a Neighbor
Elena Renner hated admitting when someone else was right.
Especially when that someone was Marcus.
The same man who had destroyed her sleep.
The same man who had offered her money instead of an apology.
The same man who had looked completely unaffected while six armed men waited behind him.
And now he was standing in her parking garage telling her that her life had become his problem.
Elena crossed her arms.
"That is a very dramatic sentence."
Marcus didn't react.
"Come upstairs."
"No."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"No?"
"No."
Elena pointed at her damaged car.
"You don't get to appear out of nowhere, speak in mysterious billionaire sentences, and expect me to follow you."
Marcus stared at her.
Most people lowered their eyes when he looked at them.
Elena didn't.
That was becoming a problem.
And somehow…
a very interesting one.
"You are stubborn."
She shrugged.
"I prefer determined."
"You don't understand what is happening."
"Then explain."
Marcus was silent.
Elena waited.
Five seconds.
Ten seconds.
Twenty.
Finally, she sighed.
"See? This is exactly what I mean. You people with money always think silence makes you intimidating."
"It usually does."
"Not with me."
For the first time, Marcus looked almost confused.
Then his phone rang.
He answered immediately.
"Yes."
A man's voice came through the speaker.
Marcus's expression changed.
"What?"
Elena watched carefully.
The calm disappeared.
Not completely.
But enough.
"Send the information."
A pause.
"No. Do not contact her father."
Another pause.
"Because if they know she matters to me, they will move faster."
Elena heard that.
She stepped closer.
"Wait."
Marcus ended the call.
"What did you mean?"
"Nothing."
"No."
Her voice sharpened.
"I heard you."
Marcus looked away.
That told her everything.
"Who are you?"
A long silence.
Then:
"Marcus Vale."
The name meant nothing to Elena.
She frowned.
"Okay."
His men behind him exchanged looks.
Marcus noticed.
"You don't know who I am."
"No."
A strange expression crossed his face.
Almost disbelief.
"You really don't."
"Should I?"
Nobody answered.
Elena looked between them.
"Fine. Let me guess."
She counted on her fingers.
"Secret billionaire?"
No response.
"Former spy?"
Nothing.
"International criminal?"
Silence.
She stopped.
"Wait."
She looked at him.
"That one was correct, wasn't it?"
Marcus didn't deny it.
And that was worse.
---
Inside the penthouse, Elena finally understood why nobody had questioned Marcus.
The entire apartment looked less like a home and more like a command center.
Screens.
Files.
Security reports.
People moving quietly.
Everyone waiting for Marcus to speak.
He wasn't just rich.
He was powerful.
The dangerous kind.
Marcus placed a folder on the table.
"Your father borrowed money."
Elena opened it.
Her expression changed.
"How much?"
Marcus didn't answer immediately.
"How much?"
"Three hundred thousand dollars."
She laughed once.
Not because it was funny.
Because it was impossible.
"My father doesn't have that kind of debt."
"He does."
"No."
She looked through the documents.
"This signature isn't his."
Marcus studied her.
"You recognize his signature?"
"Yes."
"How?"
"Because he raised me."
A pause.
"I know how my father writes."
Marcus leaned back.
Interesting.
"You believe someone used his name."
"I know someone did."
Elena looked up.
"Who?"
Marcus's expression became colder.
"People who are trying to get to me."
She froze.
"Why would they use my father?"
"Because they couldn't reach me."
"And now?"
Marcus looked at her.
"Now they know about you."
Elena slowly closed the folder.
"So this is my fault?"
"No."
The answer came immediately.
Too quickly.
"No, Elena."
His voice lowered.
"This is mine."
---
That night, Elena stayed in the penthouse.
Not because she trusted Marcus.
She didn't.
Not yet.
But because three different security reports had shown people watching her building.
And because Marcus had said something she couldn't ignore.
"You are safer where I can see you."
She hated that it made sense.
At midnight, Elena found Marcus alone in the kitchen.
No guards.
No business meetings.
Just him making coffee.
She stared.
"You make your own coffee?"
He looked at her.
"Yes."
"I expected a servant."
"I don't need one."
She leaned against the counter.
"You are strange."
"So are you."
"Because I complained about noise?"
"Because you complained about noise while standing in front of six armed men."
Elena looked away.
"I was tired."
Marcus almost smiled.
"You weren't afraid."
"I was."
That surprised him.
She continued.
"But being afraid doesn't mean you stop."
For a moment, Marcus said nothing.
Then:
"Who taught you that?"
Elena looked down.
"My mother."
"What happened to her?"
"She died when I was young."
Marcus became quiet.
"I'm sorry."
The words sounded uncomfortable coming from him.
Like he wasn't used to saying them.
Elena noticed.
"You are bad at normal conversations."
"Yes."
"Very bad."
"I know."
She smiled slightly.
May you like
And Marcus noticed.
---
