Chapter 7 - THE SECRET OF THE WEST WING
The hallway descended into an eerie, unnatural quiet.
The guards stationed down the corridor stood like statues, their eyes wide as they listened to the impossible dialogue unfolding at the doorway of the boss's private suite. None of them dared to interrupt.
Adrian’s grip on the silver locket tightened until the metal bit into his palm. He looked at the woman’s pale face, studying her features with intense, ruthless scrutiny—the slight scar near her hairline, the specific tone of her voice, the way her fingers twitched when she was terrified.
"Who put you in my house?" Adrian asked, his voice dropping into a dark, razor-sharp whisper.
The woman took a trembling step into the light of the sitting room threshold, her simple black-and-white maid's dress rustling softly against her knees. She kept her eyes fixed on Nora, who was now playing idly with the dark tattoos on Adrian’s shoulder.
"Nobody put me here," she replied softly. "I walked in through the service gate with a fake social security card and a pair of cleaning boots. Your security team checked my fingerprints against the state registry... but the state registry said I died three years ago, so the system flagged me as a clean match for a woman named Elena Vance."
The Security Chief closed his eyes in sudden, agonizing realization. A clever digital ghosting technique—using the identity of a deceased person whose record had been scrubbed to pass basic automated background checks.
"Why?" Adrian asked, stepping closer until he was standing just two feet from her. "Why hide in my house as a servant? Why not walk up to my gates? Why not call my name?"
The woman raised her eyes, looking directly into Adrian’s cold, dark gaze.
"Because the men who tried to kill me three years ago are still sitting at your dinner table, Adrian," she said, her voice dropping into a chilling, absolute register. "The men who paid for the bomb in your car are the same men who stand beside you at your board meetings. If I had come to you openly, they would have finished the job—and they would have killed Nora before she ever drew her first breath."
Adrian’s breath hitched. His eyes widened slightly as her words struck him with the force of a physical impact.
May you like
He looked down at the little girl resting against his chest. Nora looked up at him, her large brown eyes bright and innocent, completely oblivious to the lethal web of conspiracy surrounding her existence.
"Nora..." Adrian breathed, his voice cracking with an emotion he had thought long dead inside his chest.
