CHAPTER SIX
There were two things Ayanda Bennett had learned about Adrian Vale.
The first was that he never repeated himself.
The second was that when he became quiet, people became nervous.
That morning, he was doing both.
He had not spoken to her since they left the archive.
Not properly, anyway.
He had given instructions to his security team, rearranged her schedule without consulting her, cancelled two of her appointments, and assigned Nathaniel to accompany her whenever she left the executive floor.
He had also placed a security officer outside her office.
Ayanda found that last part particularly irritating.
She stood beside her desk, staring at the man stationed near the elevator.
Then she turned toward Adrian's office.
The blinds were open.
He was working.
Of course.
She walked in without knocking.
His eyes lifted immediately.
"Out."
Ayanda stopped.
"Excuse me?"
"Out."
"You've put a security officer outside my office."
"Yes."
"You've cancelled two meetings on my calendar."
"Yes."
"You've instructed Nathaniel to accompany me."
"Yes."
She folded her arms.
"And now you're telling me to leave?"
"Yes."
She stared at him.
"Do you enjoy being difficult?"
"No."
"You're remarkably convincing."
Adrian placed his pen down.
"Ayanda."
"No. I'm serious."
She stepped closer to his desk.
"You don't get to reorganize my entire life because someone left a threatening message."
His expression hardened.
"This isn't your life."
"Excuse me?"
"This is my company."
She blinked.
"And apparently I'm part of the furniture."
"That isn't what I said."
"Then what exactly are you saying?"
Adrian stood.
"You are under my protection while you're inside this building."
The words caught her off guard.
Protection.
It was not a word she associated with him.
Control, perhaps.
Authority.
Power.
But not protection.
She studied his face.
"Why?"
"Because you're involved now."
"I didn't ask to be."
"I know."
"Then let me decide what I do about it."
His expression remained unreadable.
"I can't."
"Can't?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because if something happens to you inside this building, it's my responsibility."
Ayanda's anger faltered.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then she said quietly, "You make everything sound like a business transaction."
Adrian's gaze remained on hers.
"It's easier that way."
Something in his voice made her pause.
There was history behind those words.
History he clearly had no intention of explaining.
Ayanda looked away first.
"Fine."
She turned toward the door.
"Ayanda."
She stopped.
"Don't leave the building alone tonight."
She looked back.
"That's an order?"
"Yes."
She smiled faintly.
"You really need to learn how to ask people."
"I don't ask when someone's safety is involved."
She shook her head.
"Good morning, Mr. Vale."
"Good morning."
She left.
Adrian waited until the door closed before looking down at the document on his desk.
He had not told her everything.
He couldn't.
Not yet.
Because the truth wasn't simply that someone was watching Veyronis.
Someone had been watching him for years.
And now, somehow, Ayanda had appeared in the middle of it.
By lunchtime, Ayanda had decided she hated being protected.
It was humiliating.
She couldn't walk to the archives without someone appearing behind her.
She couldn't take the elevator without security checking it first.
She couldn't even order coffee without Nathaniel asking where she was going.
Eventually, she turned toward him.
"Do you people have hobbies?"
Nathaniel looked amused.
"Apparently not."
"You've been following me for three hours."
"Technically, I've been making sure nobody else follows you."
"That isn't better."
"It wasn't supposed to be."
She sighed.
They reached the cafeteria.
Ayanda picked up a cup of coffee.
Nathaniel watched her.
"You shouldn't drink that."
She looked at him.
"Why?"
"Because Adrian hates coffee after noon."
She stared.
"Why does that concern me?"
"It doesn't."
"Then why did you tell me?"
Nathaniel smiled.
"You'll learn that surviving Adrian involves knowing things nobody officially tells you."
Ayanda looked toward the corridor.
"Like what?"
Nathaniel hesitated.
"Like never asking about the old offices."
"Why?"
He became serious.
"Because some people who worked there aren't here anymore."
Ayanda's smile disappeared.
"Why?"
Nathaniel looked at her for a moment.
Then said quietly:
"Exactly."
Before she could ask another question, his phone rang.
He stepped away.
Ayanda watched him answer.
His expression changed.
She couldn't hear the conversation, but she knew something was wrong.
When he returned, his face was carefully neutral.
"Come."
"Where?"
"Adrian's office."
"Why?"
"He wants you."
She sighed.
"Of course he does."
The moment Ayanda entered Adrian's office, she knew the atmosphere had changed.
Adrian stood beside the windows.
Nathaniel closed the door behind them.
A document lay open on the desk.
Adrian looked at Ayanda.
"Your father."
Her heart tightened.
"What about him?"
"I found something."
He pushed the document toward her.
She approached cautiously.
It was an old employment record.
Not for Veyronis.
For a company called Aurelius International.
Ayanda read the page.
Her father's name appeared near the bottom.
Daniel Bennett.
Position: External Consultant.
She frowned.
"I've never heard of this company."
"You wouldn't have."
"Why?"
"Because it no longer exists."
She looked at him.
"What happened to it?"
Adrian's expression was cold.
"It disappeared."
"Companies don't just disappear."
"This one did."
Ayanda read further.
There was a date.
September 14.
The same date.
Again.
She looked up.
"This is the night you mentioned."
"Yes."
"What happened?"
Adrian didn't answer.
Instead, he walked toward the desk.
"There was a financial investigation."
"Into Aurelius?"
"Yes."
"Was my father involved?"
"Yes."
Her heart sank.
"In what way?"
"We don't know."
"You keep saying that."
"Because I won't lie to you."
She looked at him.
"That's the first thing you've said today that I believe."
Something almost resembling amusement touched his expression.
Almost.
Then disappeared.
Adrian sat.
"Your father disappeared from the company's records shortly after the investigation began."
Ayanda's voice became quieter.
"My father didn't disappear."
Adrian looked at her.
"He died."
"I know."
"I was there."
The room became silent.
Adrian's expression changed.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
"I didn't know."
Ayanda looked away.
She had not intended to say that.
It was too personal.
Too painful.
"My mother told me he died of an accident," she continued. "A car accident. I was young."
Adrian said nothing.
Ayanda looked at him.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Because that's not what the report says."
Her stomach tightened.
"What report?"
Adrian reached for another file.
He opened it.
There was an official document.
Ayanda read the first few lines.
Then stopped.
Her father's death had never been officially classified as an accident.
The report stated:
Cause undetermined.
She stared at the page.
"No."
Adrian watched her carefully.
"My mother told me—"
"I know what she told you."
"How?"
He didn't answer.
Ayanda's eyes filled with disbelief.
"You knew?"
"I knew there were inconsistencies."
"You knew my father's death wasn't confirmed as an accident?"
"Yes."
"And you never told me?"
"I had no reason to believe you wanted to know."
She stood abruptly.
"You knew something about my father before I even walked into this building."
Adrian remained seated.
"Yes."
Her voice trembled.
"Why?"
He looked at her.
"Because sixteen years ago, your father asked me to protect something."
Ayanda froze.
"What?"
Adrian's eyes remained fixed on hers.
"I don't know."
The answer was almost unbearable.
"You don't know?"
"No."
"Then what did you protect?"
He looked toward the window.
"A secret."
Ayanda stared at him.
"What secret?"
Adrian didn't answer.
Instead, he said something in German.
"Manchmal ist Unwissenheit sicherer."
Ayanda frowned.
"What does that mean?"
"Sometimes ignorance is safer."
She looked at him.
"I don't want to be ignorant anymore."
For the first time, Adrian seemed to understand that she wasn't going to stop asking.
He leaned back.
"Then you're going to have to accept something."
"What?"
"Once you start looking for the truth, you don't get to choose what you find."
Ayanda held his gaze.
"Maybe I'm ready."
Adrian's expression softened almost imperceptibly.
"That's what worries me."
That evening, rain began falling over Munich.
Ayanda stood by the window of her office, watching the city blur beneath the glass.
Her father's name.
The photograph.
The missing file.
The mysterious company.
The unexplained death.
Everything seemed to lead back to one date.
September 14.
She was about to leave when Adrian appeared at her doorway.
"You're still here."
"So are you."
"I own the building."
She smiled despite herself.
"Of course you do."
He looked at her.
"You shouldn't be here alone."
"I have security outside."
"I know."
"Then I'm safe."
His expression didn't change.
"Not necessarily."
She sighed.
"You know, sometimes you make it difficult to tell whether you care about people or simply dislike losing control."
Adrian looked at her for a long moment.
"Maybe I don't know the difference."
The honesty of the answer silenced her.
He stepped into the office.
For once, there was no command in his posture.
No coldness.
Just exhaustion.
Ayanda noticed.
"Adrian?"
He looked at her.
"Yes?"
"You can trust me."
His expression changed.
Very slightly.
"Trust is expensive."
"Then I'll pay for it slowly."
Neither spoke.
The rain tapped against the windows.
For a brief moment, the office didn't feel like the headquarters of a powerful corporation.
It felt strangely ordinary.
Two people standing in the quiet after a difficult day.
Two people who knew almost nothing about each other.
Two people who were beginning to realize that perhaps that was the most dangerous part.
Adrian finally stepped back.
"Go home."
Ayanda nodded.
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
She walked away.
Adrian watched until the elevator doors closed.
Then his phone rang.
He answered.
"Speak."
A man's voice came through.
"We found the person who accessed the archive."
Adrian's expression hardened.
"Who?"
There was a pause.
Then the voice answered.
"Someone who works for you."
Adrian went still.
"Name."
Another pause.
"That's the problem."
"Why?"
"Because the employee has been dead for eleven years."
The call ended.
Adrian stared at the phone.
For the first time in years, he felt something he had almost forgotten.
Fear.
Not for himself.
For the woman who had just walked out of his office.
He looked toward the elevator.
And whispered to the empty room:
"I'm sorry, Ayanda."
Because somewhere in the building, a locked door had just opened.
And whatever had been waiting behind it had finally begun to move.