Owned By Silence: The Forbidden Affair

Chapter Two

The impact never came.

A strong hand grabbed me, yanking me back from the street with enough force to send me stumbling onto the pavement. The SUV roared past, missing me by inches.

"Are you out of your mind?"

I looked up into the face of my savior and my heart stopped.

"B-boss..." I stammered.

Adrian Cole. My CEO. The man whose building I worked in but who existed in a completely different world from mine.

He removed his glasses, cleaning them with sharp, irritated movements. "What the hell were you thinking? Do you have a death wish?"

He was even more imposing up close than I'd imagined. Tall easily six-foot-three with dark hair perfectly styled despite the early hour and the most intense dark eyes I'd ever seen. His expensive charcoal suit was slightly askew from pulling me to safety, but even disheveled, he commanded attention.

Handsome didn't begin to cover it. He was devastatingly beautiful in the way that powerful men often were—sharp jawline, perfect features, the kind of presence that made rooms go quiet when he entered.

When he spoke again, his voice carried the authority of someone used to being obeyed. "I asked you a question."

Instead of answering, my lips stretched into an ugly face and I started to cry.

The tears came without warning, ugly, broken sobs that I couldn't control. His expression shifted from anger to complete shock, like he'd never seen a woman cry before.

He sighed, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a pristine white handkerchief.

"Here." His voice was gentler now, though still uncertain. "Be more careful, alright?"

I took the handkerchief with shaking fingers. "Thank you. I'm sorry, I—"

But he was already walking away, putting his glasses back on and disappearing into the crowd of morning commuters with the confident stride of a man who had important places to be.

I watched him go, my heart still racing. I sighed to myself as the tears burned my eyes. I stared at the handkerchief through my lashes, my hand slowly squeezing it.

He…he shouldn't have saved me.

"Miss Hannah?"

The thought broke as I quickly turned toward the voice and found a middle aged woman standing beside me. Well-dressed, expensive handbag, but something about her wide smile made my skin crawl. Her eyes were too bright, and she was looking at me like prey.

"Hi," she said, her voice overly sweet. "Luckily you didn't die. I'm glad you were saved."

I wiped my tears with Adrian's handkerchief, studying her face.

"Do I know you?"

"No," she said, stepping closer. "But I know you. Please, can we talk?"

Everything about her felt wrong. The timing of her appearance. The way she was looking at me like she was cataloging my weaknesses.

"No," I said firmly. "We can't."

Her smile turned cold, and she placed a hand on my shoulder with a grip that felt more like a trap than comfort.

"Hannah Marie Rivers," she said, using my full name like a weapon. "Originally from Millbrook, New York. Moved to Brooklyn three years ago after your fiancé Marcus Peterson died."

My blood turned to ice. "How do you—"

"You spent six months stripping at an illegal club in Queens," she continued, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Laundering money through various accounts. You paid a lot of cash to hide who you really are so you could get that nice, clean job at Cole Industries after your fiancé died."

Each word hit me like a physical blow. The club, the fake papers, the desperate choices I'd made when I had nothing left…it was all supposed to be buried.

"You're owing a couple of loan sharks who want your head," she said, her grip tightening on my shoulder. "Either you talk to me, or you die. Your choice."

My legs felt like they might give out. The morning commuters flowed around us like we were invisible, going about their normal lives while mine was being systematically destroyed by a stranger.

“How…”

“It's not a matter of how Miss Hannah. That shouldn't be the question in your head right now. What you should be considering, is meeting up with me. If not…you won't like where you see yourself.”

"I…” I gulped down air, goosebumps filling my skin. She scared me, and she still had that damn smile on her face. I took a deep breath, “I…I need coffee," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "If we're going to talk, I need coffee."

Her smile widened, predatory and satisfied. "Of course. I know just the place."

She led me three blocks away to a small café tucked between a dry cleaner and a phone repair shop. The kind of place tourists never found, where the owner knew regular customers by name and minded his own business.

She chose a corner table where we couldn't be overheard, ordering for both of us without asking what I wanted. When the coffees arrived, she waited until I'd taken a sip before speaking.

"How do you know all those things about me?" I asked, my hands shaking as I held the cup.

"I'm very good at finding information," she said calmly. "It's what I do."

"What you…do?"

She reached into her expensive handbag and pulled out a leather portfolio, sliding it across the table. Inside were credentials that made my blood run cold.

Elena Vasquez. Private Investigator. Licensed in New York and New Jersey. Specializing in corporate espionage and financial crimes.

"You're a PI?"

"Among other things." She took a sip of her coffee, studying me over the rim. "I've been investigating Cole Industries for the past two years. Adrian Cole specifically."

"Why?"

Her expression hardened. "Because five years ago, Adrian Cole destroyed my life. I was working for a competitor, about to expose some very damaging information about his business practices. He destroyed my reputation, got me blacklisted from every major firm in the city, and left me with nothing."

"So this is about revenge?"

"This is about justice." Her voice was ice-cold. "Adrian Cole is a monster who destroys people for profit. He needs to be stopped."

I stared at the credentials, trying to process what she was telling me. "What does any of this have to do with me?"

"I need someone on the inside. Someone invisible. Someone desperate enough to do what needs to be done."

"Which is what, exactly?"

Elena leaned forward, her voice dropping to barely above a whisper. "I want Adrian Cole destroyed. Killed. Dead."