The File
1466 Words
Izzy barely slept.
The guest room at the DeLuca estate was larger than her entire apartment back home. The bed was soft, the sheets smelled like lavender, and the attached bathroom looked like it belonged in a luxury hotel.
Yet none of it mattered.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw her father.
Then the men breaking into her house.
Then Adrian standing in the doorway, calm and dangerous, as though violence simply followed him around.
By morning, exhaustion had settled deep into her bones.
A soft knock came at the door.
"Come in," she called.
Rosa entered carrying a tray.
Coffee.
Fruit.
Pancakes.
And enough bacon to feed an army.
Izzy blinked.
"Did I accidentally sleep until Christmas?"
Rosa laughed.
"You look like you need a good breakfast."
Izzy sat up.
The older woman set the tray on the bed.
"How did you sleep?"
"Terribly."
"That seems about right."
Izzy smiled weakly.
Rosa sat at the edge of the bed.
"You don't have to pretend you're okay here."
The words nearly undid her.
Everyone kept being kind.
She wasn't sure what to do with that.
"I don't even know where I am anymore," she admitted.
"You're safe."
"I don't know if I believe that."
"You will."
Izzy looked at her.
"Why does everyone trust Adrian so much?"
A soft smile spread across Rosa's face.
"Because he gives people reasons to."
Before Izzy could ask another question, another knock sounded.
The door opened.
Adrian stepped inside.
He wore dark slacks and a black button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled to his forearms.
For a moment, she forgot what she was going to say.
Unfortunately, he looked even better without the suit jacket.
"Good morning," he said.
"Is it?"
A small smile appeared.
"Fair point."
Rosa stood.
"I'll leave you two alone."
As soon as she left, silence filled the room.
Adrian's gaze landed on the untouched breakfast.
"You should eat."
"I'm not hungry."
"You're lying."
She sighed.
"Maybe a little."
He pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat.
That surprised her.
Most people in his position would've stood there looking intimidating.
Instead, he looked… approachable.
Which somehow made him more dangerous.
"You wanted to talk?" she asked.
He nodded.
"I think it's time."
Her stomach tightened.
"Time for what?"
He studied her carefully.
"The truth."
The room suddenly felt colder.
He reached into his pocket and removed a key.
Then he handed it to her.
She frowned.
"What is this?"
"A safe deposit box key."
Her heart skipped.
"It belonged to your father."
She looked up.
"He left it to you."
Slowly, she closed her fingers around the key.
"What's inside?"
"I don't know."
"You never looked?"
"No."
"Why not?"
His answer came immediately.
"Because it wasn't mine."
The simple honesty of that caught her off guard.
"You really keep your promises, don't you?"
He held her gaze.
"I try to."
She looked down at the key.
A hundred questions raced through her mind.
"Did my father tell you about it?"
"Only that you would eventually need what's inside."
Need.
Not want.
Need.
That didn't sound good.
She swallowed.
"I don't think I'm ready."
"I know."
Silence settled between them.
Then—
"He wasn't always a bad man."
The words surprised even her.
Adrian remained quiet.
"He used to make me pancakes every Saturday," she said softly. "We'd eat them on the porch."
A small smile touched her lips.
"He taught me how to ride a bike."
She looked down.
"Then one day everything changed."
Adrian's expression softened.
"He loved you."
A laugh escaped her.
"Did he?"
"Yes."
"You didn't know him like I did."
"No," Adrian said quietly. "I knew him differently."
She looked at him.
"He talked about you all the time."
Her head snapped up.
"What?"
"When you moved away."
"He never called."
"No."
"He never visited."
"No."
"He never tried."
A shadow crossed Adrian's face.
"He didn't think he deserved to."
Tears suddenly burned behind her eyes.
She hated that answer.
Because it sounded exactly like something her father would do.
Self-destruct and call it sacrifice.
"He kept every birthday card you ever sent."
Her breath caught.
"I stopped sending those years ago."
"I know."
She stared at him.
"He kept them anyway."
A lump formed in her throat.
For several moments, neither of them spoke.
Then Adrian reached into his pocket again.
This time, he removed a thick folder.
A file.
He placed it on the bed.
Immediately, her stomach dropped.
"What is that?"
"It's yours."
She frowned.
"What do you mean?"
"It belonged to your father."
Slowly, she opened it.
The first page was a photograph.
A picture of her mother.
Young.
Beautiful.
Smiling.
Izzy's breath caught.
She hadn't seen this picture in years.
Underneath it was a newspaper clipping.
She frowned.
The headline read:
LOCAL WOMAN KILLED IN CAR ACCIDENT
Her hands began to shake.
Then she turned the page.
And froze.
Another article.
Different headline.
WITNESS CLAIMS BRAKE FAILURE IN FATAL CRASH
"What?"
She looked up at Adrian.
"What is this?"
He looked grim.
"Keep reading."
Her pulse thundered.
The next page contained police reports.
Statements.
Notes.
And then—
A name.
Eleanor Carter had recently contacted authorities regarding suspicious activities involving the Moretti Organization.
Izzy stopped breathing.
"What is the Moretti Organization?"
Adrian's jaw tightened.
"My enemies."
She looked back at the file.
No.
No.
This couldn't be real.
She turned another page.
There was a handwritten note from her father.
Your mother found something she wasn't supposed to.
Another page.
She was going to expose them.
Another.
Then she died.
The room spun.
"No."
Tears filled her eyes.
"No."
Her mother.
Her sweet, kind mother.
The woman she'd mourned for twenty years.
It wasn't an accident.
It couldn't be.
She looked at Adrian.
"This isn't real."
He didn't answer.
"Tell me it isn't real."
He couldn't.
The silence was answer enough.
A sob escaped her.
All these years…
Everything she'd believed…
Everything had been a lie.
She dropped the papers.
Adrian moved immediately.
He knelt in front of her.
"Izzy—"
"My father knew."
Her voice broke.
"He knew."
Tears streamed down her face.
"He knew and never told me."
"He was trying to protect you."
"I don't care!"
The words echoed through the room.
She covered her face.
Everything hurt.
Her chest.
Her heart.
Her memories.
Nothing made sense anymore.
Gently, Adrian placed a hand over hers.
She didn't pull away.
"My whole life…" she whispered.
"I know."
"No, you don't."
His expression changed.
A shadow passed through his eyes.
"No," he said quietly. "I probably don't."
Silence.
Then she lowered her hands.
"You said the Morettis are your enemies."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"They've been trying to take my organization for years."
She looked at the file.
"And my mother got caught in the middle?"
His jaw tightened.
"Possibly."
Possibly.
That word terrified her.
"Do they know about me?"
He didn't answer.
Her heart sank.
"Oh my God."
"They might."
"Might?"
"We're still trying to determine that."
She stood so quickly the papers slid onto the floor.
"This is insane."
"I know."
"I can't do this."
"You don't have to do it alone."
She looked at him.
For the first time, she truly saw the concern in his eyes.
Not obligation.
Not duty.
Concern.
"You barely know me."
"No."
"Then why are you helping me?"
He hesitated.
Then—
"Because your father saved my life once."
She blinked.
"What?"
"He never told you?"
She slowly shook her head.
A faint smile appeared.
"I was twenty-one. Stupid. Thought I knew everything."
"That sounds hard to believe."
A soft laugh escaped him.
She almost smiled.
"There was an attack," he said. "I should've died."
"But I didn't."
"Because of my father?"
He nodded.
"He took a bullet meant for me."
Her eyes widened.
"He nearly died."
Silence filled the room.
"And after that?" she whispered.
"He became family."
Family.
The word hit her unexpectedly hard.
Her father had a whole life she knew nothing about.
A whole world.
"He protected me," Adrian said softly.
"So now… I protect you."
Tears filled her eyes again.
This time for a different reason.
Because for the first time since she'd arrived in Blackridge…
She didn't feel completely alone.
Then a knock sounded.
Marco stepped into the room.
His expression was serious.
"Adrian."
Immediately, Adrian stood.
"What is it?"
"We found something."
"What?"
Marco looked toward Izzy.
"The men from last night weren't working alone."
A heavy silence filled the room.
"There was someone else giving orders."
Adrian's expression darkened.
"Who?"
Marco swallowed.
"We think it's someone on the inside."
The room went completely still.
Someone inside the DeLuca organization had betrayed them.
And suddenly…
No one in this house felt entirely safe anymore.
End of Chapter 4
- Writer
