The Price of Her Heart

Adrian's POV The cold wind hit my face as I watched Valemont from the patio of my bedroom. The city glittered below me like a group of dancing fireflies. Gold streaks painted the night, the amber color of headlights shone brightly, and the river sparkled like silver, perfectly reflecting the boisterous city. Many would look at Valemont and think of it as a vibrant city filled with lots of opportunities, affluence and hope. But only a few people knew the dark side of the city. In fact, this city is a typical example of the saying there’s more to it than what the eyes can see, because beneath that eye-catching surface, is darkness waiting to engulf anyone or anything within its reach. I took a small sip from the wine glass I held in my hand as I reminisced on the good memories I had with my parents when they were still here. I could almost hear my mother’s sweet and angelic voice thanking me for the beautiful roses I had got her. And I could almost feel my father’s warm embrace comforting me when my puppy died. For thirteen years, they had been my world. Then, in one night, they were gruesomely taken away from me. My eyes darkened and my grip on the glass tightened at the thought of it. It has been ten years, but that day remains evergreen in my mind. I remember how shocked and mortified I was when I saw my father’s lifeless body in a pool of blood. I remember how my heart broke at the sight of my mother screaming, wailing and begging them to spare hers and my life before a bullet was shot into the middle of her head. I remember holding on to my mother’s lifeless body as she was being taken away in the ambulance. My eyes watered, and tears threatened to spill out of them as I remembered that gory night. The police said it was just another unfortunate robbery and not a planned assassination. Their reports stated that a group of masked men broke into our mansion and fired shots before escaping in a black van that was inconspicuously parked outside. But I remembered what happened that day so vividly. The masked men didn’t take anything valuable with them, which showed that they hadn’t come with the intention of stealing. That night broke me and I changed from that little naive boy I was to someone cold and ruthless. And right there, in front of their dead bodies, I made a silent vow to find whoever killed them and make that person pay dearly. I wiped the lone tear that slipped from my eye and went inside to get my phone that was ringing. I searched for it quickly, wondering who could be calling at that hour. When I got to where my phone was, I checked to see who was calling. It was… Christine. The only girl I have ever loved and the person who helped me get through losing my parents. At that moment, the weight in my chest disappeared, and I felt better immediately. That was Christine Stone’s specialty, making me feel better without even knowing. With her, everything was so easy, and I almost believed I could live normally without having to worry about vengeance. Almost… “Christine,” I said calmly. “Adrian,” she said, “I was afraid you weren’t going to pick up. Are you still working?” “I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to have a late-night drink,” I said. “Is everything okay? Would you like me to come over?” She said in one breath. “No, don’t bother. Besides, I don’t think your father will be happy if he hears his beloved daughter came to my house this late,” I teased. “Hahaha, very funny,” she replied sarcastically. “I don’t think my father would complain though. He likes you, and you are family,” she added. Family. That word hit me hard and Christine had no idea how hard it hit. Her father, Alexander Stone, was my father’s closest friend. You could even call them brothers because of how close they were. He came to our house a lot when I was a kid, and I looked up to him like my own father. He was my mentor, my role model and I respected him a lot. He was there for me when my parents died and he even helped organize the funeral. Yet, I had this inkling… this feeling that he had something to do with my parents’ death. He had this look on the day of my parents’ funeral and that raised my suspicion even higher. “I know Christine,” I said slowly. “But it’s still too late for you to come here.” “Okay.” She laughed softly. “Good night, and Adrian…” she trailed. “Try to get some sleep.” “I would. Good night, Christine.” The line went dead, and I dropped my phone on my bed. Earlier today, my private investigator, an old detective whom I had been funding secretly for some months, had finally found something that caught my interest. A lead on the web of lies that surrounded my parents’ murder. A lead that pointed to one person. Alexander Stone. My father’s close friend and business partner. The man I looked up to, Christine’s father. I sauntered towards my desk, pulling out the folder the detective had given me. Inside it were deleted phone records and bank transactions that all happened around the time of the murder. It was too early to conclude. But the mere thought of it sent shivers down my spine. I had waited patiently all these years. I had built connections, pulled resources, and braced myself for this moment. Now I was ready. Ready to finally uncover the truth. Ready to strip away every mask, discover every lie, and find my parents’ killer. My determination to avenge my parents’ death wavered slightly as I saw Christine’s name still glowing faintly on my phone screen. What if the truth did more than destroy Alexander Stone? What if it broke her, too? I asked myself as I looked on into the night.