LORDWOOD INTERNATIONAL
1049 Words
AND WHATEVER HE TELLS YOU, DO NOT BELIEVE HIM. The final message read.
I stared at the screen, my heart started beating faster.
“What the hell…”
I read the message again, then again.
Who was I supposed to believe?
The man who had broken into my house?
The unknown person sending me messages?
My father's lawyer?
Or Adrian Lordwood?
I didn't know.
But there was one thing I did know, I needed answers.
I closed my laptop and looked at the clock, it was almost midnight and I hadn't slept. I couldn't.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw my father's face.
Then I saw the photograph, my mother, she’s alive.
At least, that's what it looked like.
I pulled the photograph out of my pocket and stared at it again.
Why would my father lie to me?
Why would he tell me she was dead?
And what had she done?
I turned the photograph over.
ASK HER WHAT SHE DID.
My fingers tightened around the edges. I needed to find Adrian Lordwood.
Tomorrow, I would go to Lordwood International.
The next morning, I stood in front of the massive glass building of Lordwood International.
As I looked up, the building seemed to disappear into the clouds.
People in expensive suits walked through the entrance, black cars pulled up outside, security guards stood at every entrance. This wasn't just a company. It was an empire.
I took a deep breath.
“Just get your answers and leave.” I said to myself as I walked in.
The receptionist looked up.
“Good morning. How can I help you?”
“I need to see Adrian Lordwood.”
She paused.
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No.”
She gave me a polite smile.
“I'm sorry, Mr. Lordwood doesn't accept walk-ins.”
“I know, but I need to speak to him.”
“I'm afraid that's not possible.”
I pulled the key from my pocket.
“Tell him I have something that belonged to my father.”
Her expression changed, only slightly, but I noticed.
She picked up the phone.
“Mr. Lordwood?”
She listened. Then looked at me.
“He'll see you.”
I frowned.
“He will?”
“Yes.”
She pointed toward the elevators.
“Forty-second floor.”
My stomach twisted. How did he know I was coming?
I stepped into the elevator.
The doors closed, the numbers climbed.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
The doors opened.
A man in a black suit was waiting.
“Miss Hale?”
I nodded.
“Follow me.”
I walked behind him.
We stopped in front of two enormous wooden doors.
He opened them.
And there he was… Adrian Lordwood.
He stood beside the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking down at the city.
Tall, dark hair, perfectly dressed, cold grey eyes.
The exact same man from the photograph I'd seen last night.
He turned toward me.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then he said something that made my blood run cold.
“You look exactly like your mother.”
I froze.
“What?” I asked in total confusion.
He walked toward me slowly.
“I said you look exactly like your mother.”
“You knew my mother?”
His expression hardened.
“Yes.”
“How?”
He stopped a few feet away from me.
“That's complicated.”
“My father is dead.”
“I’m aware.”
My eyes narrowed.
“Everyone seems to know that.”
He stared at me.
“Your father came to see me three days ago.”
My heart skipped.
“What?”
“He came here.”
“Why?”
Adrian didn't answer.
I stepped closer.
“What did he want?”
He looked toward the door.
“Not here.”
I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“It means if you want answers, you need to understand something first.”
“What?”
His eyes locked into mine.
“Your father's death wasn't an accident.”
I stopped breathing.
“I never said it was.”
“You didn't have to.”
He walked toward his desk and picked up a file.
He placed it in front of me.
My father's name was written across the front.
My hands trembled.
“What's inside?”
“Everything your father didn't want you to know.”
I looked up at him.
“Then why are you showing me?”
“Because he asked me to.”
My heart pounded.
“My father asked you to?”
Adrian nodded.
“He knew something was going to happen.”
I opened the file.
There were documents, photographs, bank records, names I didn't recognize.
Then I saw something familiar, a symbol.
The exact same symbol engraved on the key my father had left me.
I touched the page.
“What is this?”
Adrian's expression changed.
“You have the key.”
It wasn't a question.
I slowly pulled it from my pocket.
His eyes immediately focused on it.
“Where did you get that?”
“My father.”
He stared at the key for several seconds.
Then he looked at me.
“Where is the photograph?”
My stomach dropped.
“How do you know about the photograph?”
His expression became unreadable.
“Because I was there.”
I stared at him.
“Where?”
“The night your mother disappeared.”
My heart stopped.
Before I could say anything, the office door suddenly opened and man came rushing in.
“Sir, we have a problem.”
Adrian turned.
“What happened?”
“The security system was breached.”
Adrian's face hardened.
“Where?”
The man swallowed.
“Forty-second floor.”
Adrian looked at me, then toward the door.
“Someone followed you.”
My blood ran cold.
“Who?”
Adrian didn't answer.
Instead, he grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the other side of the office.
“Where are we going?”
“Somewhere safe.”
“I don't trust you.”
“You shouldn't.”
He opened another door.
Then we heard footsteps outside. Someone was coming.
Adrian looked at me and whispered,
“Whatever you do, don't let them see you.”
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