Chapter 2: The Man Who Knew My Name
1226 Words
Congratulations. You made it inside.
The message glowed on my screen.
Your boss already knows who you really are.
A chill crawled up my spine.
I read the words twice.
Three times.
Then I locked my phone and slipped it into my bag.
No.
Someone was playing games with me.
That had to be it.
No one at Blackwood Holdings knew Ariana Romano existed.
To them, I was Aria Bennett—the newest marketing coordinator with an ordinary résumé and an ordinary life.
"Miss Bennett?"
I looked up.
A woman in a fitted navy suit stood a few feet away, holding a tablet against her chest. She looked to be in her early thirties, her blonde hair twisted into a neat bun.
"You must be Claire."
She smiled.
"And you must be our newest employee."
I forced a smile of my own.
"That's me."
"Mr. Blackwood asked me to bring you upstairs."
"The CEO meets every new employee?"
Claire laughed.
"I didn't say that."
My smile faded.
She pressed the call button, and a private elevator opened almost instantly.
As the doors slid shut, silence settled between us.
I caught my reflection in the polished steel wall.
My breathing was too fast.
My hands were clenched into fists.
Relax.
You're Aria.
You've always been Aria.
Claire glanced sideways.
"First day jitters?"
"Something like that."
"You'll survive."
"You don't sound convinced."
She laughed again.
"Mr. Blackwood has that effect on people."
The elevator stopped on the top floor.
The doors opened to a hallway lined with dark wood, expensive artwork, and enough security cameras to make my skin itch.
Every lens seemed to follow me.
"Right this way."
Claire led me toward two oversized black doors.
Before knocking, she turned to me.
"Can I give you one piece of advice?"
"I'm listening."
"Don't lie to him."
The words landed harder than they should have.
I searched her face for a hint that she knew something.
There was nothing.
Just a polite smile.
She knocked twice.
"Sir, Miss Bennett is here."
A calm voice answered from inside.
"Send her in."
Claire pushed the door open.
"Good luck."
I stepped inside.
The office was impossibly quiet.
Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city.
Bookshelves stretched from wall to wall.
A chessboard sat on a side table, half-finished.
Behind a large oak desk stood a man adjusting the cuff of his black shirt.
He didn't look up immediately.
Instead, he finished fastening the cufflink before speaking.
"Close the door."
I did.
He finally raised his head.
Dark eyes.
Sharp jaw.
No smile.
He looked like the kind of man who noticed everything and forgot nothing.
"Sit."
I took the chair opposite his desk.
He opened a folder.
"My assistant tells me you arrived early."
"I like being on time."
"So do I."
He flipped a page.
"You've changed jobs six times in five years."
"I was looking for the right fit."
"No social media."
"I value my privacy."
"No emergency contact."
"I don't have anyone."
He nodded slowly, as though he expected every answer before I spoke.
Then he closed the folder.
"Tell me something, Miss Bennett."
"Yes?"
"Do you always look over your shoulder before entering a room?"
The question stole the air from my lungs.
I blinked.
"I'm sorry?"
"You did it in the lobby."
His voice remained calm.
"You did it before getting into the elevator."
Another pause.
"And you did it before walking into my office."
I hadn't even realized I'd done it.
He leaned back in his chair.
"People usually develop habits like that for one of two reasons."
I held his gaze.
"And what are they?"
"They're hiding."
He paused.
"Or they're being hunted."
Silence swallowed the room.
"They're hiding," he said.
He let the silence stretch between us before finishing.
"Or they're being hunted."
I forced a small smile.
"Maybe I'm just cautious."
"Maybe."
His eyes never left mine.
"But cautious people don't flinch every time their phone vibrates."
My heart skipped.
My phone had vibrated.
I hadn't even noticed.
Slowly, I reached into my bag and pulled it out.
Another message from the unknown number.
«Don't tell him about the SUV.»
My pulse quickened.
How could whoever was sending these messages know where I was?
I locked the screen before Adrian could see it.
"Everything okay?" he asked.
"Just a spam message."
"Hmm."
He didn't sound convinced.
Instead, he stood and walked toward the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city.
"Do you know why people like living above everyone else?" he asked.
I frowned.
"I've never thought about it."
"They think height gives them control."
He turned to face me.
"The funny thing is... danger doesn't care how high you are."
His words settled heavily in the room.
I couldn't tell if he was talking about the city...
Or me.
A knock interrupted the silence.
Claire stepped inside.
"Sir, the board meeting starts in fifteen minutes."
"I'll be there shortly."
She nodded before looking at me.
"I'll show Miss Bennett to her department."
Adrian picked up a business card from his desk and slid it toward me.
"If you need anything..."
I looked down.
It had his private number.
"...call me directly."
I hesitated.
"I thought new employees went through Human Resources."
"They do."
His expression didn't change.
"You won't."
---
Claire walked beside me in silence until we reached the elevator.
"You survived," she said with a smile.
"Barely."
She laughed.
"I've never seen him give his personal number to anyone on their first day."
"I think he made a mistake."
Claire shook her head.
"Mr. Blackwood doesn't make mistakes."
The elevator doors opened into the lobby.
Employees hurried past us, carrying files and coffee cups.
Everything looked normal.
Too normal.
Then I saw him.
The man in the blue baseball cap.
He stood across the lobby pretending to read a newspaper.
The same man from the market.
The one searching for me.
Our eyes met.
His expression changed.
He folded the newspaper and walked away.
"Excuse me," I said.
Before Claire could answer, I hurried after him.
"Miss Bennett!"
I ignored her.
He pushed through the revolving doors.
I followed.
The afternoon sun hit my face as I stepped onto the sidewalk.
People crowded the streets.
Taxis honked.
Buses rumbled past.
The man was already halfway across the road.
"Hey!"
He didn't stop.
I broke into a run.
By the time I reached the other side...
...he was gone.
Completely gone.
My phone buzzed.
Unknown Number.
«You're chasing the wrong person.»
I frowned.
Another message appeared almost immediately.
«The real threat is behind you.»
Every hair on the back of my neck stood up.
Slowly...
I turned around.
Adrian Blackwood stood a few feet away, his hands tucked into the pockets of his tailored coat.
He held an old newspaper in one hand.
Without a word, he placed it in front of me.
The headline was impossi
ble to miss.
MAFIA HEIRESS DIES IN TRAGIC CAR ACCIDENT
Below it was a photograph I wished I'd never see again.
My obituary.
Adrian looked me straight in the eyes.
Then, in a voice only I could hear, he said,
"How long do you plan to keep lying to me... Ariana?"
My breath caught.
The newspaper slipped from my fingers.
And for the first time in five years...
I realized hiding was no longer an option.
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