Before You Found Me

THE MAN BEHIND THE HEADLINES

The bedroom door opened.

Adrian Hale stood by the window.

His arm was wrapped in a bandage, and a small cut rested above his eyebrow. He looked healthier than he had when Isla first saw him lying inside the wrecked car.

Yet his eyes carried the same quiet exhaustion.

The same guarded expression.

The same feeling that there was something he wasn't telling her.

He turned when she entered.

Their eyes met.

"You came."

Isla crossed her arms.

"I was brought."

A faint smile appeared on his face.

"Fair enough."

He motioned toward a chair near the window.

"Please."

She remained standing.

"You wanted to thank me."

"I do."

"Then thank me."

"I just did."

She frowned.

"That's all?"

"No."

Adrian walked toward a small table beside the window.

He opened a drawer and removed a small envelope.

He placed it on the table between them.

"What's that?"

"Open it."

Isla hesitated.

She stepped closer and picked up the envelope.

Inside was a check.

Her eyes widened when she saw the amount.

She immediately looked at Adrian.

"I can't accept this."

"You can."

"This is too much."

"You saved my life."

"I saved a person."

"And that person happened to be me."

Isla pushed the envelope back toward him.

"I don't want your money."

Adrian studied her.

"Why?"

"Because I didn't save you for money."

"I know."

"Then why give it to me?"

He looked out the window.

For a few seconds, he said nothing.

Then he answered quietly.

"Because kindness deserves to be remembered."

Something about the way he said it made Isla pause.

There was no arrogance in his voice.

No attempt to impress her.

It sounded almost like he was speaking from experience.

"You don't have to pay me for doing the right thing."

"I know."

"Then keep it."

Adrian looked at the envelope.

"You remind me of someone."

"Who?"

"My brother."

Isla's expression softened.

"The brother who died?"

Adrian nodded.

"He used to say the same thing."

"What?"

"That people shouldn't be rewarded for doing what was right."

A faint smile touched his lips.

"He was stubborn."

"Sounds like he was a good person."

"He was."

Adrian's smile disappeared.

"And that's why he died."

Isla didn't know what to say.

The room became quiet.

She looked around.

The bedroom was large, but it didn't feel comfortable.

Everything was expensive.

Everything was perfectly arranged.

Yet there were almost no personal photographs.

No family pictures.

No memories displayed on the walls.

It was as if Adrian had deliberately removed every trace of his past.

"You don't seem like the person I saw on television."

Adrian looked at her.

"What person did you see?"

"The businessman."

"And who am I?"

"I don't know."

"Exactly."

Isla frowned.

"You expect me to believe you're just some mysterious billionaire who happens to get attacked and then sends strangers to my apartment?"

"I didn't send anyone to your apartment."

"You already said that."

"And it's still true."

She watched him carefully.

For some reason, she believed him.

At least partially.

"Then who were those men?"

"I don't know."

"Everyone in your life seems to know more than I do."

Adrian gave a quiet laugh.

"That's because you're the only person in this house who isn't hiding something."

"Are you saying everyone here is hiding something?"

"I am."

Before Isla could respond, Adrian's phone vibrated.

He looked at the screen.

Something changed in his expression.

"What is it?" Isla asked.

"Nothing."

"That doesn't look like nothing."

Adrian placed the phone face down.

"It's not your problem."

Isla sighed.

"Right."

She turned toward the door.

"I should go."

"Wait."

She stopped.

Adrian looked at her.

"There's something you need to understand."

"What?"

"If anyone contacts you about me, don't answer."

Isla frowned.

"Why?"

"Because there are people who may try to use you to get to me."

Her heart sank.

"Are you saying I'm in danger?"

Adrian didn't answer immediately.

That was answer enough.

"You are."

Isla stared at him.

"I didn't ask for any of this."

"I know."

"I have a job."

"I know."

"I have a life."

"I know."

"Then why am I standing in your mansion talking about people who want to kill you?"

Adrian's eyes softened.

"Because you saved me."

Isla shook her head.

"That's not enough of an explanation."

"Maybe not."

He looked toward the window.

"But it's the truth."

Before Isla could answer, the office door suddenly burst open.

"Adrian!"

An older man stormed into the room.

His footsteps were heavy and confident.

He wore an expensive dark suit and carried himself with the authority of someone who was accustomed to being obeyed.

His sharp eyes immediately landed on Isla.

He stopped.

For several seconds, he said nothing.

Then his expression hardened.

"So..."

His gaze moved from Isla to Adrian.

"This is the woman."

The room suddenly felt colder.

Adrian's face became unreadable.

"Uncle Richard."

The older man's eyes remained fixed on Isla.

"Is this her?"

Adrian stepped slightly between them.

"Be careful."

Richard raised an eyebrow.

"Why?"

"Because she's a guest."

"A guest?"

Richard laughed quietly.

"She saved your life and suddenly she's a guest in this house?"

Isla looked between them.

"You don't have to speak about me as though I'm not standing here."

Richard's attention shifted toward her.

For the first time, he looked directly into her eyes.

"I'm sorry."

But his apology didn't sound sincere.

"My name is Richard Hale."

"Isla Bennett."

"I know."

Isla's stomach tightened.

"You know my name?"

Richard smiled faintly.

"We know a lot about the woman who saved Adrian."

Adrian's voice became firm.

"That's enough."

Richard ignored him.

"Do you know what kind of trouble you've involved yourself in, Miss Bennett?"

"No."

"Then perhaps you should leave while you still can."

Adrian turned sharply.

"Richard."

"What?"

"You don't get to threaten her."

"I'm not threatening anyone."

Richard looked at Isla again.

"I'm warning her."

Isla felt uncomfortable.

"About what?"

Richard stepped closer.

"About my nephew."

Adrian's expression darkened.

"Don't."

Richard continued.

"Adrian Hale isn't the man people see on television."

"I already know that."

Richard's eyes narrowed.

"Do you?"

Isla didn't answer.

Adrian moved toward his uncle.

"Leave."

Richard gave a short laugh.

"You're protecting her already."

"Leave."

Richard looked at him for a long moment.

Then he turned toward the door.

Before leaving, he stopped.

"Just remember, Adrian..."

He glanced at Isla.

"Not everyone who saves you is your friend."

The door closed behind him.

Silence returned.

Isla stared at Adrian.

"Who was that?"

"My uncle."

"I figured that out."

Adrian sighed.

"Richard Hale."

"Why does he hate me?"

"He doesn't hate you."

"He practically threatened me."

"He doesn't trust people."

"Neither do you."

Adrian looked at her.

"Maybe that's why we're still alive."

Isla frowned.

"What does that mean?"

Adrian walked back toward the window.

Outside, the mansion grounds were dark.

Only a few lights illuminated the driveway.

"You should go home."

"That's it?"

"For tonight."

"You're not going to explain anything?"

"Not yet."

Isla shook her head.

"You're incredibly frustrating."

A faint smile appeared on his face.

"So I've been told."

She turned toward the door.

Then she stopped.

"Adrian?"

"Yes?"

"Who is the man behind the headlines?"

He looked at her.

For the first time, something vulnerable appeared in his eyes.

"Someone who learned a long time ago that people don't always love you for who you are."

Isla didn't know what to say.

She opened the door.

Before stepping out, she looked back.

"Maybe that's why you shouldn't assume everyone wants something from you."

Adrian stared at her.

She walked away.

Neither of them noticed the figure standing at the end of the hallway.

Watching.

Waiting.

And listening to every word they had said.

A phone was raised.

A photograph was taken.

Then a message was sent.

She's here.

A reply arrived almost immediately.

Then the plan can begin.