Chapter 5
1368 Words
Chapter 5 — The Missing Name
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Isadora stood beside her mother's bed, the black envelope still in her hand.
Lucien remained near the open window, his expression unreadable. But Isadora had already seen the fear in his eyes, and she couldn't forget it.
“You were with my father that night?” she asked.
Lucien looked at her.
“Yes.”
Clara's face went pale.
Isadora felt the answer settle heavily inside her.
“You were there when he disappeared?”
“I met him that evening.”
“And you never told me?”
“You didn't know me.”
“That isn't an excuse.”
“No,” Lucien said quietly. “It isn't.”
Isadora tightened her grip on the envelope.
“What happened?”
Lucien glanced toward Clara.
“Your father asked me for help.”
“With what?”
“He believed someone was working against him.”
“Someone at Blake Industries?”
“Yes.”
“Did he know who?”
“I don't think so.”
Isadora frowned.
“My father was a businessman. He had enemies.”
“This was different.”
“How?”
Lucien was silent for a moment.
“He was afraid.”
Clara lowered her eyes.
“Edward wasn't himself during those last few weeks,” she whispered. “He barely slept. He checked the locks constantly. He stopped trusting people around him.”
Isadora looked at her mother.
“You never told me that.”
“You were already dealing with enough.”
“Mom, I deserved to know.”
“I know.”
Lucien moved closer.
“Your father gave me a name that night.”
Isadora turned toward him.
“What name?”
“Adrian.”
“Adrian who?”
“That was all he gave me.”
Isadora stared at him.
“My father gave you someone's first name?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He wanted me to find the person.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because Edward disappeared before I could.”
The room fell silent.
Isadora looked down at the envelope.
“Could this be connected?”
Lucien's eyes settled on it.
“Possibly.”
“What's inside?”
“I don't know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“Yes.”
She studied his face.
For once, there was no arrogance in his expression.
Only caution.
Lucien pointed toward the envelope.
“Whoever left that here wanted you to find it.”
“Then maybe I should open it.”
“Not tonight.”
“Why?”
“Because we don't know whether it's safe.”
Isadora almost laughed.
“Someone broke into our apartment and left an envelope on my mother's windowsill. I think we're past safe.”
Lucien's expression tightened.
“That's exactly why you shouldn't act recklessly.”
“You don't get to tell me what I can do.”
“I know.”
“Then stop.”
“I will when you're no longer in danger.”
Isadora stared at him.
“You can't protect me from everything.”
“No,” he said. “But I can try.”
Something about the answer silenced her.
She looked away first.
Then Clara spoke.
“There was a symbol.”
Both Isadora and Lucien turned toward her.
“What symbol?” Isadora asked.
Clara pointed at the envelope.
“That mark.”
Isadora examined it.
A thin silver circle crossed by a single black line.
“Edward had that symbol too,” Clara continued. “He drew it on pieces of paper before he disappeared.”
Lucien's expression changed.
“You're certain?”
“Yes.”
“How often?”
“Several times.”
Isadora looked between them.
“You knew about this?”
Lucien nodded.
“I saw the symbol in your father's office.”
“Then why didn't you tell me?”
“I didn't know what it meant.”
“But you recognized it.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“In documents connected to Grave Industries.”
Isadora's heart beat faster.
“The black folder.”
Lucien said nothing.
She remembered the confidential folder she had found at work.
EDWARD BLAKE — CONFIDENTIAL.
The same black line.
The same feeling that something was deliberately being hidden from her.
“What does the symbol mean?” she asked.
Lucien shook his head.
“I don't know.”
“Then who does?”
He looked at her.
“That is what I'm trying to find out.”
Suddenly, a sound came from outside.
A car engine.
Isadora moved toward the window.
Lucien immediately caught her attention.
“Don't.”
She stopped.
“Why?”
“Stay away from the window.”
He moved past her and carefully looked through the curtain.
The street below was nearly empty.
Rain covered the pavement, turning the streetlights into blurred reflections.
The silver car Lucien had arrived in was still parked across the road.
Marcus stood beside it, speaking into his phone.
“No one is there,” Lucien said.
Isadora released a breath.
Then her phone vibrated.
She looked down.
Unknown Number:
Ask him about the photograph.
Her stomach dropped.
“What photograph?”
Lucien turned.
She showed him the message.
His expression hardened.
A second message appeared.
Look inside your father's desk.
Isadora stared at the screen.
“What does that mean?”
Lucien didn't answer.
“Lucien?”
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“No.”
He reached for his phone.
“I'm calling Marcus.”
Before he could, another notification appeared.
This time, it was a photograph.
Isadora opened it.
Her breath caught.
It showed her father standing outside Blake Industries.
He looked younger.
Beside him stood Lucien.
And between them was another man.
His face had been scratched out.
Isadora stared at the image.
“When was this taken?”
“Two years ago.”
“The day he disappeared?”
Lucien nodded.
Isadora looked at the third figure.
“Who is that?”
Lucien didn't answer.
She turned toward him.
“Who is he?”
“I don't know.”
“You just said you were with my father.”
“I was.”
“And this man was there.”
“Yes.”
“Then you must know him.”
Lucien's eyes remained on the photograph.
“I knew him.”
Isadora's voice became quieter.
“Past tense?”
“Yes.”
“Who was he?”
Lucien finally looked at her.
“Someone I believed was dead.”
A chill ran through her.
“Dead?”
“Yes.”
“Who killed him?”
“I don't know.”
“Then how did he die?”
Lucien hesitated.
“That is the problem.”
He took the phone from her hand and examined the photograph.
“This picture shouldn't exist.”
“Why?”
“Because I never saw anyone take it.”
Isadora's eyes widened.
“Then who did?”
Lucien looked toward the locked apartment door.
“I don't know.”
A sudden knock echoed through the apartment.
Both of them froze.
Three slow knocks.
Isadora's heart pounded.
Clara whispered, “Who is it?”
Nobody answered.
Lucien motioned for Isadora and Clara to stay back.
He walked toward the entrance.
Another knock.
Then a man's voice came through the door.
“Mrs. Blake?”
Clara looked frightened.
“I don't know that voice.”
Lucien silently checked the security chain.
“Who are you?” he called.
A pause.
Then the voice answered.
“I have something that belonged to Edward Blake.”
Isadora stared at Lucien.
His face had gone completely still.
The stranger continued.
“And if you want to know what happened to him, you need to let me inside.”
Lucien looked at Isadora.
For the first time, she saw something in his eyes she had never seen before.
Fear.
Not for himself.
For her.
And then the stranger whispered through the door:
“Because Lucien Grave isn't the only person who knows what happened that night.”
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