THE BILLIONAIRE'S GAMBLE

The Body

I couldn't breathe.

For a few seconds, I honestly thought I'd heard Adrian wrong.

"My father?"

Adrian nodded slowly.

"They found a body about forty minutes ago."

My hands went cold.

"Where?"

"An abandoned warehouse owned by one of our old subsidiaries."

I stared at him.

"And they think it's him?"

"They found identification."

"What identification?"

"A driver's license."

My heart sank.

My father's driver's license.

After eleven years.

None of this made sense.

I stepped backward until my legs hit the edge of the bed.

"No."

Adrian moved toward me.

"Maya..."

"No."

I shook my head.

"My father is dead."

"You don't know that."

"I do."

"Then why is his car in my family's garage?"

I looked at him.

I had no answer.

Adrian's phone rang again.

He checked the screen.

"The police want me at the warehouse."

"I'm coming."

"No."

"I'm coming."

"Maya, this isn't a movie."

"I know."

"Then you know a crime scene isn't somewhere you should be."

"It's my father."

Adrian stared at me.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then he sighed.

"Fine."

I grabbed my coat.

"But you stay beside me."

"Agreed."

The drive to the warehouse felt endless.

I sat beside Adrian in the back of the SUV, staring through the window.

Neither of us spoke.

I kept thinking about my father.

The last time I'd seen him.

The last words he'd said.

Take care of your brother.

I'd thought he was talking about the future.

Now I wasn't so sure.

"Maya."

I looked at Adrian.

"What?"

"Whatever happens when we get there, don't assume anything."

I frowned.

"What does that mean?"

"Wait until the police confirm the identity."

I stared at him.

"You sound like you already know it isn't him."

"I don't know anything."

"You don't believe the body is my father."

"I believe there are too many unanswered questions."

"So do I."

The SUV stopped.

Police lights flashed across the dark warehouse.

I stepped out.

The cold night air hit my face.

A police officer approached.

"Miss Carter?"

"Yes."

"I'm Detective Harris."

He looked at Adrian.

"Mr. Blackwood."

Adrian nodded.

"Where is the body?"

The detective looked at me.

"Inside."

I swallowed.

"Can I see him?"

He hesitated.

"I strongly advise against it."

"I need to know."

The detective nodded.

"Stay with me."

We entered the warehouse.

The place smelled damp and old.

There were police officers everywhere.

Then I saw the body.

My legs almost gave out.

A man lay covered beneath a white sheet.

Only one hand was visible.

I stared at it.

My father had a small scar across his thumb.

A scar he'd gotten when I was seven.

I couldn't see it from where I stood.

"Do you recognize him?" Detective Harris asked.

I couldn't answer.

He slowly pulled the sheet down.

I looked.

And everything inside me went silent.

The man's face looked older.

Much older.

But there was something familiar about him.

The shape of his nose.

His jaw.

His eyes.

My knees weakened.

"That's..."

My voice broke.

"That's my father."

Adrian grabbed my arm before I fell.

I covered my mouth.

Eleven years.

Eleven years of believing he'd been gone.

And now he was lying in front of me.

Dead.

Again.

I started crying.

I didn't even realize I'd been holding all those tears inside until they finally came.

Adrian didn't say anything.

He just stood beside me.

For once, there were no instructions.

No contracts.

No cold billionaire attitude.

Just silence.

Detective Harris covered the body again.

"I'm sorry."

I wiped my face.

"When did he die?"

"The medical examiner estimates within the last twenty-four hours."

I stared at him.

"That's impossible."

"Why?"

"Because..."

I looked at Adrian.

"His car was found tonight."

Detective Harris frowned.

"What car?"

"My father's."

"Where?"

"In the Blackwood garage."

The detective's expression changed.

"You didn't mention that."

"I didn't know until tonight."

He looked at Adrian.

"Is that true?"

"Yes."

"Why was the vehicle there?"

"We don't know."

Detective Harris pulled out his notebook.

"Who has access to the garage?"

"Family members. Security staff. Senior employees."

"Anyone else?"

Adrian paused.

"Possibly."

"Who?"

"My stepmother."

I looked at him.

"Victoria?"

He nodded.

"She has access."

Detective Harris wrote something down.

"Where is she?"

"I don't know."

"Call her."

Adrian pulled out his phone.

He dialed.

No answer.

He tried again.

Still nothing.

Then his phone buzzed.

A message.

Adrian looked at it.

His expression changed.

"What?"

He handed me the phone.

It was from Victoria.

Don't trust the girl. She knows more than she's telling you.

I looked up.

"She thinks I'm hiding something?"

Adrian took the phone back.

"She thinks everyone is."

Detective Harris cleared his throat.

"There's something else."

I turned toward him.

"What?"

"We found this near the body."

He held up a clear evidence bag.

Inside was a photograph.

My breath caught.

It was a picture of me.

I was about thirteen years old.

Standing beside my father.

I recognized the location immediately.

Our old house.

But that wasn't what frightened me.

Someone had written something across the photograph in black ink.

SHE IS NEXT.

I felt the room tilt.

Adrian took the evidence bag from the detective.

"Who found this?"

"My officers."

"When?"

"About twenty minutes ago."

Adrian stared at the photograph.

His jaw tightened.

"Detective."

"Yes?"

"Get everyone out of this warehouse."

The detective frowned.

"Why?"

Adrian looked around.

"Because whoever left this wanted us to find it."

A sudden noise came from somewhere behind us.

A metallic crash.

Everyone turned.

The police officers immediately reached for their equipment.

"Stay behind me," Adrian said.

I barely heard him.

Another crash.

Then silence.

The detective motioned for two officers to search the back corridor.

They disappeared through a doorway.

Five seconds passed.

Ten.

Then one of them shouted.

"Detective!"

Harris ran toward the voice.

Adrian grabbed my hand.

"Don't move."

I stared at him.

"What is happening?"

"I don't know."

A moment later, the officers returned.

One of them was holding a small black bag.

"Found this hidden behind the wall."

Detective Harris opened it.

Inside was a phone.

An old phone.

He pressed the power button.

The screen lit up.

There was only one saved contact.

Maya.

My stomach dropped.

"That's mine."

Adrian looked at me.

"What?"

"I've never seen that phone before."

The detective pressed the contact.

The phone began ringing.

My own phone suddenly vibrated in my pocket.

I froze.

Everyone looked at me.

Slowly, I pulled my phone out.

The screen showed an unknown number.

It was calling.

Adrian's eyes narrowed.

"Don't answer."

But before I could do anything, the call ended.

A message appeared.

UNKNOWN NUMBER:

You shouldn't have come here.

Then another message arrived.

UNKNOWN NUMBER:

Your father wasn't the one they were supposed to kill.

My heart stopped.

Adrian grabbed my phone.

A third message appeared.

UNKNOWN NUMBER:

Ask Adrian what happened eleven years ago.

I looked at him.

His face had gone completely pale.

"Adrian?"

He didn't answer.

"What's happening?"

Still nothing.

Then he whispered the words that made my blood run cold.

"The night your father disappeared..."

He swallowed.

"...I was the last person who saw him alive."

And before I could ask what he'd done, the warehouse lights suddenly went out.