Chapter Six : After Midnight
2452 Words
Elena
Elena spent the next morning trying to convince herself that she wasn't afraid.
It didn't work.
She had barely slept.
Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the black car outside her apartment.
She heard the stranger's voice.
Your mother is still alive.
And worse—
Ask him what happened on March 14, seventeen years ago.
She had spent the entire night searching through old records on her laptop.
March 14.
Seventeen years ago.
Her birthday.
The day Lucien's father died.
The day her mother disappeared.
Three events connected by one date.
It couldn't be coincidence.
At 8:03 a.m., Elena stepped into Voss International.
She had barely taken three steps before Mara approached her.
"Mr. Voss wants you upstairs."
Elena stopped.
"Now?"
"Immediately."
Something in Mara's expression made her uneasy.
"What happened?"
"I wasn't told."
Elena entered the elevator.
The doors closed.
For the first time since starting at Voss International, she didn't feel like an employee going to see her boss.
She felt like someone walking into an interrogation.
When the doors opened, Lucien was standing outside his office.
His tie was missing.
His shirt sleeves were rolled to his elbows.
He looked exhausted.
And angry.
"Inside."
Elena followed.
The doors closed.
Lucien locked them.
She noticed.
"Why did you lock the door?"
"Because we're going to have a difficult conversation."
Her pulse quickened.
"About?"
He walked toward his desk.
"Your mother."
Elena froze.
"You found her?"
"No."
"Then what?"
He placed a photograph on the desk.
Elena stared at it.
Her breath caught.
It was the woman from the old photograph.
Her face was visible.
She looked younger than Elena remembered.
But Elena knew her.
"That's my mother."
Lucien watched her carefully.
"Are you certain?"
"Yes."
"Her name?"
"Isabella Vale."
Lucien shook his head.
"No."
Elena frowned.
"What?"
"That's not her name."
A cold feeling settled in her stomach.
"My mother told me it was."
"She lied."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
"Then what is her name?"
Lucien hesitated.
"Seraphina Voss."
Elena stared at him.
"No."
"Her name was Seraphina Voss."
"No."
"Elena—"
"My mother was Isabella Vale."
Lucien's voice softened.
"That's the name she used after she disappeared."
Elena looked down at the photograph.
"Why would she change her name?"
"Because she was running."
"From whom?"
"My family."
Elena's hands began to tremble.
"What did she do?"
Lucien didn't answer.
"What did she do?"
"She took something."
"What?"
He looked directly at her.
"A child."
Silence.
Elena's heart stopped.
"What child?"
Lucien said nothing.
She took a step toward him.
"What child?"
His expression was unreadable.
"That's what I'm trying to find out."
---
Lucien
He hadn't intended to tell her this much.
But after finding the photograph, he no longer knew what to keep hidden.
The image of Seraphina holding the newborn had haunted him all morning.
Because there was something else in the photograph.
Something Elena hadn't noticed.
A tiny bracelet around the baby's wrist.
A hospital bracelet.
Lucien had seen the same bracelet in his father's records.
Baby V.
No first name.
No mother listed.
No father.
Just a letter.
V.
He placed the photograph beside Elena's employee file.
"I need you to answer some questions."
She folded her arms.
"Go ahead."
"Where were you born?"
"Veyra."
"Which hospital?"
"I don't know."
"Who registered your birth?"
"My mother."
"Who was present?"
"I don't know."
"Do you have any childhood photographs?"
"Yes."
"Of your birth?"
"No."
"Do you remember your mother being pregnant?"
Elena stared at him.
"I was seven when she disappeared."
"That's not what I asked."
She went quiet.
Lucien noticed.
"Elena."
"I don't remember."
"Think."
"I was a child."
"Try."
She closed her eyes.
A few seconds passed.
Then—
"I remember a room."
Lucien leaned forward.
"What room?"
"White walls."
"Hospital?"
"I think so."
"Anything else?"
She pressed her fingers against her temple.
"There was a woman."
"Your mother?"
"I don't know."
"What did she look like?"
Elena's breathing became uneven.
"Dark hair."
Lucien's heart accelerated.
"Anything else?"
"She was crying."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
"Elena."
She opened her eyes.
"There was a man."
Lucien went still.
"What man?"
"I couldn't see his face."
"What did he say?"
Elena swallowed.
"He said..."
She struggled to remember.
Then whispered:
"She's not yours."
Lucien's blood ran cold.
"Who wasn't yours?"
"I don't know."
"What happened after that?"
"I don't remember."
He stared at her.
Neither spoke.
Then Elena looked at him.
"Why are you asking me these questions?"
Lucien hesitated.
Because he suspected she wasn't merely connected to his family.
Because he feared she might be the missing child.
Because if she was—
everything he had ever believed about his family was a lie.
"I need to know who you are."
Her expression hardened.
"You keep saying that."
"Because I don't know."
"And if you find out I'm dangerous?"
"Then I'll deal with it."
"How?"
His gaze held hers.
"Whatever it takes."
---
Elena
The words should have frightened her.
Instead, they made her heart beat faster.
That was the problem with Lucien.
Everything about him was wrong.
His control.
His coldness.
His secrets.
The way he looked at her as though she were both a threat and something he desperately wanted to protect.
Elena stepped closer.
"Did you find anything else?"
Lucien's eyes narrowed.
"Why?"
"Because you have that look."
"What look?"
"The one you get when you're hiding something."
He almost smiled.
"You're becoming observant."
"I've always been observant."
"Apparently."
She glanced at the photograph.
"Your father knew my mother."
"Yes."
"Your grandfather knew her."
"Yes."
"Your uncle knows me."
"Yes."
"And now you're telling me my mother wasn't actually Isabella Vale."
"Correct."
Elena looked at him.
"So tell me something."
"What?"
"Who was my father?"
Lucien went silent.
She knew immediately.
He knew.
"You know."
He didn't answer.
"You know who my father is."
"Elena—"
"Who is he?"
Lucien looked away.
"Not yet."
Her frustration exploded.
"Not yet?"
He turned back.
"I need proof."
"Of what?"
"Of everything."
She stared at him.
"You expect me to keep working for you while you investigate my entire life?"
"I expect you to stay alive."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one I have."
Elena shook her head.
"You are impossible."
"So I've been told."
She turned toward the door.
"Where are you going?"
"To work."
"Your assignment has changed."
She looked back.
"What now?"
"You'll be working with me tonight."
"Tonight?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Lucien's expression hardened.
"Someone accessed our offshore accounts."
Elena's anger disappeared.
"How much?"
"Enough to bankrupt one of our subsidiaries."
"When?"
"Three hours ago."
"Then why aren't you calling the police?"
"Because whoever did it knew exactly how to bypass our security."
"And you think it's someone inside?"
"I know it is."
---
Midnight
The headquarters had emptied by eleven.
By midnight, only a handful of security officers remained.
Elena sat across from Lucien in a conference room.
Their laptops illuminated the dark table.
Financial records covered the screen.
"This transaction."
Elena pointed.
"Look at the timestamp."
Lucien leaned closer.
"2:14 a.m."
"Exactly."
"What's significant?"
"It happened while the account was supposedly locked."
Lucien studied the screen.
"Someone with executive access."
"Yes."
"Who?"
"I'm narrowing it down."
He watched her work.
"You've been doing this for six hours."
"So have you."
"You should go home."
"No."
"Elena."
"I'm staying."
"Why?"
She looked at him.
"Because someone is stealing from you."
A pause.
"And?"
"And I want to know who."
Lucien leaned back.
"You're enjoying this."
"Not the crime."
"The mystery."
She smiled faintly.
"Maybe."
For the first time that night, Lucien smiled too.
It was small.
Almost imperceptible.
But real.
Elena stared.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You smiled."
"I didn't."
"You did."
"No."
She laughed softly.
"You actually can."
His expression became serious again.
"Don't tell anyone."
She smiled.
"Your reputation might suffer."
The moment passed.
They returned to the investigation.
At 1:37 a.m., Elena found something.
"Lucien."
He moved beside her.
"What?"
"Look."
She enlarged the transaction history.
There was a hidden account.
A dormant account that had received money from the stolen funds.
But the account name wasn't a company.
It was a person.
Lucien's face changed.
"Who is that?"
Elena read the name.
Seraphina Voss.
She looked at him.
"Your aunt?"
Lucien didn't answer.
The account had been active only once.
Seventeen years ago.
On March 14.
The same day his father died.
The same day Elena was born.
The same day her mother disappeared.
Lucien stared at the screen.
"That's impossible."
Elena's voice was quiet.
"Why?"
"Because that account was closed seventeen years ago."
"Apparently not."
He stood abruptly.
"We're going to the archives."
"Now?"
"Now."
---
Lucien
The basement archives were buried beneath the oldest section of the Voss building.
Few people even knew they existed.
Lucien unlocked the door.
Elena followed.
Rows of files stretched into darkness.
He found the section marked:
VOSS FAMILY — CONFIDENTIAL
Elena's eyes widened.
"These are family records?"
"Yes."
"Why are they in a corporate building?"
"My grandfather used the company as his private vault."
They searched.
Birth records.
Medical documents.
Financial records.
Correspondence.
Nothing.
Then Elena noticed a box.
"What's that?"
Lucien turned.
A small wooden box sat behind several folders.
He pulled it out.
There was no label.
He opened it.
Inside was a hospital bracelet.
A photograph.
And a letter.
Lucien picked up the photograph.
It showed a newborn baby.
He turned it over.
His blood ran cold.
March 14.
Elena stepped closer.
"That's the baby."
"Yes."
"Who is it?"
Lucien unfolded the letter.
His eyes moved across the page.
Then stopped.
He read the final line twice.
Elena watched him.
"What does it say?"
He couldn't speak.
"Lucien."
He handed her the letter.
Elena read it.
Her face went white.
The child must never know she is a Voss.
Elena looked at him.
"She?"
Lucien nodded slowly.
"The baby was a girl."
Silence.
Elena stared at the photograph.
Then at Lucien.
"Where is she now?"
Lucien's eyes moved toward her.
He didn't answer.
Because he was beginning to realize something terrifying.
The baby had been born on March 14.
The child had been hidden from the Voss family.
Seraphina had disappeared with a baby.
And Elena had been born on the same day.
But there was one detail that didn't fit.
Elena had always believed she was seven when her mother disappeared.
Which meant she couldn't be the newborn.
Unless—
Lucien's phone rang.
Adrian.
He answered.
"What?"
His uncle's voice was low.
"You found the records."
Lucien's eyes narrowed.
"Where are you?"
"Not far."
"What do you want?"
"You keep asking the wrong question."
Lucien's patience snapped.
"Then tell me the right one."
Adrian laughed.
"Ask Elena why she remembers a hospital she was never born in."
Lucien froze.
He looked at Elena.
She had heard him.
Her face had gone pale.
"How do you know what she remembers?"
Adrian's voice became colder.
"Because I was there."
The call ended.
Elena stared at Lucien.
"What does he mean?"
Lucien didn't answer.
She stepped closer.
"What does he mean?"
He looked at the photograph in his hand.
Then at Elena.
And suddenly the pieces formed a possibility so horrifying that he didn't dare say it aloud.
The baby wasn't Elena.
But Elena had memories of the baby's birth.
Which meant someone had given her those memories.
Someone had lied about her identity.
Someone had spent years constructing a life for her.
And if Adrian had been there—
then he knew exactly who Elena really was.
---
Elena
They left the archives at 2:26 a.m.
Neither spoke in the elevator.
When they reached the forty-second floor, Elena stopped.
"Lucien."
He turned.
"What?"
"I want the truth."
"You'll have it."
"No."
She stepped closer.
"I want it now."
His eyes searched hers.
"I don't know the truth yet."
"Then find it."
"I will."
"And until you do?"
"Stay with me."
Elena stared at him.
"What?"
His voice was quiet.
"Stay where I can protect you."
"That's an order?"
"No."
He stepped closer.
"It's a request."
The words hit differently.
Elena looked into his eyes.
For a moment, the billionaire CEO disappeared.
There was only a tired man standing in front of her.
A man who was afraid of losing something he hadn't even admitted he wanted.
She whispered:
"Why do you care so much?"
Lucien didn't answer.
Instead, his hand lifted slowly.
His fingers brushed her cheek.
Elena's breath caught.
Neither moved.
His gaze dropped to her lips.
Then back to her eyes.
He leaned closer.
One breath.
One heartbeat.
The distance between them disappeared.
Their lips almost touched.
Then Lucien stopped.
He pulled away sharply.
His face hardened.
"We can't."
Elena's heart sank.
"Why?"
"Because you're my employee."
She stared at him.
"That's the only reason?"
His jaw tightened.
"No."
"Then what?"
He looked away.
"Because if I let myself want you, I don't know what I'll become."
Elena's heart broke in a way she couldn't explain.
She stepped back.
"Goodnight, Mr. Voss."
She walked away.
Lucien watched her disappear.
He didn't follow.
He couldn't.
Because he had finally admitted the truth to himself.
He wanted her.
And that was the one thing he couldn't afford.
---
Lucien
At 3:04 a.m., Lucien returned to his office.
A message was waiting on his private phone.
No number.
No name.
Just a photograph.
He opened it.
His blood turned cold.
It was a picture of Elena sleeping.
Taken inside her apartment.
Beneath it were six words:
You should have let her leave.
Another message appeared.
She isn't your enemy.
A third.
But she will destroy you.
Lucien stared at the screen.
Then another photograph arrived.
This one was older.
A hospital room.
A woman lying unconscious.
A newborn baby beside her.
And standing at the foot of the bed—
his father.
Alexander Voss.
Beside him stood Seraphina.
And in the corner of the photograph was a seven-year-old boy.
Lucien.
He zoomed in.
His younger self was holding something.
A small silver pendant.
The same pendant Elena wore.
Lucien's breathing stopped.
He remembered that night.
Not clearly.
But enough.
His father had told him:
"Never tell anyone what you saw."
Lucien had forgotten.
Until now.
He looked at the photograph again.
Then whispered:
"Elena..."
His phone buzzed one final time.
Ask your father why he brought you to the hospital on the day you were supposed to be meeting your new sister.
Lucien stared at the message.
His hands began to shake.
Because he remembered something else.
A baby crying.
His father's blood on his hands.
And his own voice—
seven years old—
asking one question.
"Why did you kill her?"
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