THREE HEARTS, ONE SIN

THE MEN AT MY DOOR. The first time I saw the three men, I thought they were lost. The second time, I knew they were dangerous. The third time.... I realized they had come for me. But that night, I knew none of this. I was simply trying to eat my noodles in peace. “Finally,” I whispered, staring at the bowl in front of me. “A peaceful night.” I had barely taken my first bite when someone knocked on my apartment door. I froze. Another knock came. Three slow knocks. Who knocked like that? I put down my fork. “Who is it?” No answer. I frowned. Maybe it was Mrs. Carter from downstairs again. She had complained about my music twice this week. I walked toward the door. “Mrs. Carter, if this is about my music, I already told you—” I stopped. There was a man standing outside. A very tall man. He wore a black suit and stood perfectly still. His face was cold, his dark eyes fixed on me through the glass. My stomach tightened. I didn't know him. I stepped back. “Can I help you?” He didn't answer. Then two more men appeared behind him. My heart nearly stopped. Three strangers. At my door. At night. Great. Just great. “Okay,” I whispered. “This is definitely not about the music.” The first man finally spoke. “Are you Elena Vale?” I swallowed. “Yes.” His eyes moved over my face. Almost like he was checking something. Then he said, “We need to talk.” “No.” His eyebrow lifted. I forced a smile. “You said talk. I heard you. My answer is still no.” The second man laughed softly. The first man looked at him. “What's funny?” “Nothing,” the second man said. “She's exactly as you described.” My smile disappeared. “Excuse me?” The second man stepped forward. He was handsome. Annoyingly handsome. He had warm brown eyes, messy dark hair, and a smile that looked like trouble. “I’m Adrian.” “I didn't ask.” He laughed. “I like her.” “I don't care.” “I like her more now.” “Adrian,” the first man warned. Adrian raised both hands. “Fine. I'm quiet.” “You're terrible at being quiet,” the third man said. It was the first thing he had said. His voice was low. Cold. I looked at him. Unlike Adrian, he wasn't smiling. He stood slightly behind the others, dressed in black, his face unreadable. “What about you?” I asked. His eyes met mine. “Nikolai.” Just one word. Nothing else. I stared at him. “Right. You're all very friendly.” Adrian chuckled. The first man stepped closer. “I'm Roman Kane.” The name hit me strangely. I had heard it before. Everyone in New York had. Roman Kane was one of those men people talked about quietly. A businessman. A powerful one. Some people said he owned half the city. Others said he owned things that didn't appear on any official records. I looked at him again. “Why are you here?” Roman's face hardened. “We need to discuss your father.” My stomach dropped. My father. Victor Vale. I hadn't heard that name spoken by a stranger in years. “He's dead,” I said. Roman didn't blink. “Yes.” Something about the way he said it made my skin crawl. “Then what do you want from me?” “Everything he left behind.” I laughed nervously. “You've got the wrong person.” “We don't.” “I don't have anything.” Roman's eyes stayed on mine. “You have more than you know.” Before I could answer, my phone rang. I looked down. Unknown number. I ignored it. It rang again. I rejected the call. Then a message appeared. DO NOT LET THEM INSIDE. My blood went cold. I looked at the three men. Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. “How did you know I was here?” I asked. Roman's jaw tightened. “Who sent that message?” I slowly looked at him. “You don't know?” “No.” The third man, Nikolai, suddenly looked past me. His eyes moved toward the hallway behind my apartment. “Roman.” Roman turned. “What?” Nikolai's face changed. “Someone else is here.” My heart slammed against my chest. “What?” Before I could move, the lights went out. The apartment became completely dark. I heard glass break. Someone grabbed my wrist. I screamed. Then a gunshot exploded through the room. BANG! I felt myself being pulled down. Roman's voice came from somewhere beside me. “Stay down!” Another shot. Then silence. I couldn't breathe. Someone was in my apartment. Someone had just shot at us. And somehow... I had a terrible feeling that the three men at my door were not the people I needed to fear most. Because when the emergency lights finally came on, Roman was staring at the broken window. Nikolai was holding a gun. Adrian was no longer smiling. And on the floor beside me was a single black envelope. My name was written across it. ELENA VALE. With shaking hands, I picked it up. Inside was one photograph. I looked at it. My breath caught. It was a picture of my father. Victor Vale. But the date printed beneath the photograph was from three months ago. My father had supposedly been dead for seven years. Then I noticed the message written on the back. Five words. YOUR FATHER IS STILL ALIVE.