Chapter 2 - THE MOTHER I NEVER KNEW
I learned the next morning that my mother had lied to me about almost everything except loving me.
Adrien moved me before sunrise.
Not to another club.
Not to one of his penthouses.
To a brownstone on the Upper East Side that looked almost aggressively normal.
Bookshelves.
Cream walls.
A piano no one seemed to play.
No visible guards.
Which meant there were probably ten.
Dr. Bell wrapped my ribs, treated the cuts, and told me the bruising around my wrists would darken before it faded.
I did not cry.
I had done enough crying for Marcus.
Adrien waited until the doctor left.
Then he placed my mother’s file on the table.
“You deserve the truth.”
“That would be a refreshing change.”
He accepted the hit.
“Evelyn Marrow was an accountant before she became a librarian.”
“That isn’t criminal.”
“No.”
“She worked for your father?”
“For several businesses connected to him.”
“Illegal businesses?”
“Yes.”
My stomach tightened.
“What did she do?”
“She tracked money.”
“For him?”
“At first.”
“And then?”
Adrien opened another folder.
“She began copying records.”
“Why?”
“Because she discovered my father and three other men were moving money through charities, construction companies, judges, and political campaigns.”
I stared.
“My mother stole evidence from a mafia boss.”
“Yes.”
“That sounds like a good way to get killed.”
Adrien’s eyes darkened.
“It nearly was.”
Nearly.
The word struck me.
“She died.”
He looked away.
“Maybe.”
I stood too quickly.
Pain ripped through my side.
Adrien caught my elbow but released it the second I pulled away.
“What do you mean maybe?”
“Your mother’s crash was never independently confirmed.”
“There was a funeral.”
“Closed casket.”
My mouth went dry.
I remembered the rain.
A black umbrella.
My foster aunt holding my hand.
Nobody letting me see the coffin.
“No.”
“There are no dental records tied to the body.”
I stared at him.
“You checked?”
“Last night.”
“Why?”
“Because someone wrote that you survived.”
My heart stopped.
“You think the message meant me surviving the crash?”
“I think whoever wrote it expected you to die with Evelyn.”
The room tilted.
“My mother told me I was staying overnight with a friend.”
“Which may be why you lived.”
I lowered myself into a chair.
For eighteen years, I had believed my mother died because another driver lost control on wet pavement.
Now every memory had teeth.
“Who was the third man in the photograph?”
Adrien’s jaw tightened.
“Senator Calvin Reddick.”
I knew that name.
Everyone did.
He had spent thirty years building a reputation as New York’s cleanest political power broker.
“And Marcus’s father?”
“Henry Blake.”
“What did he do?”
“Legal cleanup.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Of course.”
Marcus had not found me by accident.
His father’s gambling debts disappearing before Marcus began dating me suddenly looked different.
“Adrien.”
“Yes?”
“Did Marcus know who I was from the beginning?”
“I think so.”
Something inside me broke quietly.
Not because I loved Marcus anymore.
Because even the beginning had been fake.
Adrien pushed another file toward me.
Phone records.
Marcus had called a private number the night of our first date.
That number belonged to a holding company tied to Calvin Reddick.
My fingers trembled.
“He was reporting on me.”
“Yes.”
“Why wait years?”
“That is what I don’t understand.”
Then Marco entered.
“We found the shooter.”
Adrien stood.
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Marco hesitated.
“A woman.”
My stomach tightened.
“Name?”
He looked at me.
“Nora Marrow.”
I stopped breathing.
Marrow.
My mother’s last name.
“Who is she?”
Marco’s answer came softly.
“According to the birth record we just found, she’s Evelyn Marrow’s daughter.”
I stared at him.
“That’s impossible.”
But Marco was not finished.
“And she’s six years older than you.”
My mother had another child.
May you like
A daughter I had never known existed.
A sister who had just tried to shoot me.
