Chapter 2
1125 Words
Chapter Two — The Memory He Couldn't Explain
“Have I… met you before?”
The question hung between them.
Elena couldn't breathe.
For five years, she had imagined this moment.
She had imagined him recognizing her.
She had imagined him remembering the night in the rain, remembering the small apartment, remembering the stranger who had refused to leave him alone when he was hurt.
But she had never imagined him asking her this.
Not like this.
Not while his hand was still wrapped around her wrist.
Elena slowly pulled her hand away.
“Maybe.”
Adrian's eyes narrowed.
“Maybe?”
She nodded.
“I don't know.”
It was a lie.
A terrible one.
She knew exactly who he was.
And she knew exactly where she had seen him before.
Adrian took one step closer.
“You said you've never met me.”
“I said I don't remember meeting you.”
“That isn't what you said upstairs.”
Elena's heart raced.
He remembered.
Not everything.
But enough to notice her contradiction.
“I was nervous.”
“You're nervous now.”
She looked away.
“That doesn't mean anything.”
Adrian studied her face.
Most people couldn't hold his gaze for more than a few seconds.
She could.
That bothered him.
More than it should have.
The elevator doors opened.
Elena immediately stepped out.
“Goodnight, Mr. Moretti.”
She walked away before he could respond.
Adrian remained inside the elevator.
His eyes followed her until she disappeared around the corner.
Something wasn't right.
He knew it.
And Adrian Moretti had built his entire life around one rule:
When something didn't make sense, find the answer.
He pulled out his phone.
“Marco.”
A voice answered immediately.
“Yes, boss?”
“The woman from earlier.”
“Elena Rossi?”
Adrian's expression hardened.
“You already have her name?”
“I was looking into her.”
“How much do you know?”
There was a pause.
“Not much yet.”
“Then find out everything.”
“Everything?”
Adrian looked toward the empty hallway.
“Everything.”
Elena didn't stop walking until she reached the street.
She finally exhaled.
Her hand was trembling.
She stared at it.
The same hand he had held.
The same man.
The same eyes.
But he was different now.
The stranger she remembered had been wounded and vulnerable.
Adrian Moretti was neither.
He was powerful.
Cold.
Untouchable.
And according to everything she'd heard about him since arriving at the company, he was dangerous.
Elena pulled her coat around herself.
She should stay away from him.
That was the sensible thing to do.
So why did her heart feel strangely happy that he had asked whether they'd met before?
She hated herself for it.
“Don't do this, Elena.”
She started walking home.
She had promised herself five years ago that she would forget him.
She had failed.
And now he was back.
Across the city, Adrian sat alone in his office.
The city lights reflected against the glass windows.
He should have been working.
Instead, he was staring at the same photograph on his desk.
His fingers tapped against the surface.
He couldn't concentrate.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her.
Elena.
Then something else.
Rain.
A dimly lit room.
A woman's voice.
His own hand reaching for something.
Then—
Nothing.
Adrian opened his eyes.
His jaw tightened.
He hated the feeling.
A memory shouldn't be able to control him.
His phone rang.
Marco.
Adrian answered.
“What did you find?”
“Her records are clean.”
“Family?”
“Her mother. Her younger brother. Nothing unusual.”
“Previous employment?”
“Several small jobs. Nothing connected to us.”
Adrian leaned back.
“And five years ago?”
Silence.
Adrian's eyes sharpened.
“What?”
“We're still checking.”
“Check faster.”
“Yes, boss.”
The call ended.
Adrian looked at the photograph again.
Then suddenly—
A memory flashed.
A girl's face.
A small room.
Rain hitting a window.
And a voice saying:
“You're going to be okay.”
Adrian stood abruptly.
The photograph fell from his desk.
His breathing became uneven.
He pressed a hand against his forehead.
“Who are you?”
He didn't know whether he was asking about the woman from his memory…
or Elena.
The next morning, Elena arrived at work early.
She had barely slept.
She told herself she wasn't thinking about Adrian.
She was lying.
She had spent half the night thinking about him.
When she reached her desk, she found a small white envelope waiting for her.
There was no name on it.
She frowned.
She opened it.
Inside was a single photograph.
Elena's face went pale.
She knew that photograph.
She hadn't seen it in years.
Her fingers tightened around the edges.
It was a picture of the old neighborhood where she had lived five years earlier.
And written on the back were four words:
You should have forgotten him.
Elena stopped breathing.
Someone was watching her.
Someone knew.
Someone knew about that night.
She quickly looked around the office.
Everyone was working normally.
Then her phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
One message.
Stay away from Adrian Moretti.
Elena stared at the screen.
A second message appeared.
You saved him once. Don't make the same mistake twice.
Her blood ran cold.
Before she could respond, the messages disappeared.
Deleted.
Elena looked toward the elevator.
And at that exact moment, the doors opened.
Adrian stepped out.
Their eyes met.
He immediately noticed something was wrong.
He walked toward her.
“What happened?”
“Nothing.”
His expression hardened.
“Don't lie to me.”
Elena slipped the photograph into her drawer.
“I'm fine.”
Adrian stopped in front of her.
He lowered his voice.
“You're a terrible liar.”
For the first time, Elena saw something in his eyes that wasn't coldness.
Concern.
It disappeared almost immediately.
“Come with me.”
“Where?”
“My office.”
“Why?”
“Because someone just threatened you.”
Elena froze.
“How do you know?”
Adrian's gaze moved to her drawer.
“I know more than you think.”
He turned and walked toward the elevator.
After a moment, Elena followed.
Neither of them noticed the man standing across the street.
Watching them.
Holding an old photograph in his hand.
A photograph of a wounded Adrian Moretti…
and a young Elena Rossi standing beside him in the rain.
The man smiled.
“They've found each other again.”
He folded the photograph.
“But neither of them remembers the whole truth.”
To be continued…
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