Chapter 2
The sound of Adrian’s laughter echoed off the high ceilings, warm and surprisingly human. The guards around the foyer stood paralyzed in shock, their eyes wide. Emma froze halfway across the marble floor, her breath catching in her throat. She had worked in this house for over a year, keeping her head down, staying invisible. She had never seen the boss smile, let alone laugh.
Adrian uncrossed his muscular arms and stepped forward, his polished black leather shoes clicking against the stone. He crouched down until he was at eye level with the three-year-old girl.
"You handled that very well," Adrian said, his voice a low, smooth rumble, completely devoid of its usual lethal edge.
"Thank you," Nora said brightly, her blonde curls bouncing. "I am a very busy boss."
"I can see that," Adrian replied, his lips still curved upward. He rested his elbow on his knee and casually propped his chin on his hand, observing her.
Nora, always the observant mimic, immediately copied the exact gesture. She rested her little chin on her tiny hand, tilting her head to mirror him perfectly.
From her vantage point, Emma’s heart stopped. A cold wave of pure terror washed over her. That specific gesture—the slight tilt of the head, the index finger resting against the cheek—didn't belong to Adrian. It was a habit inherited through blood. It was exactly how James used to sit. James Cole. Adrian’s late younger brother. Nora’s biological father.
"You have a good eye, kid," Adrian murmured, oblivious to the panic radiating from his housekeeper.
"I have a lot of things," Nora declared proudly. She dropped her hand and popped open her tiny yellow purse. "I have important boss things in here."
"Nora, put that away," Emma said, her voice sharp with sudden panic. She rushed forward, grabbing her daughter’s shoulder. "Mr. Cole doesn't want to see your toys."
"They aren't toys!" Nora protested, pulling the purse away from her mother’s grasp.
She reached inside and pulled out a heavy, tarnished silver object. She held it out to Adrian with a bright, innocent smile.
Adrian’s genuine smile vanished the instant his eyes locked onto the object. The air in the room seemed to drop twenty degrees. His intense, commanding presence slammed back into place, heavy and suffocating.
It was an old silver lighter. Not just any lighter, but one deeply engraved with the Cole family crest—a roaring lion intertwined with thorny vines. It was the exact lighter his brother James had carried in his pocket every single day until the night he was murdered three years ago.
"Where did you get this?" Adrian demanded, his voice dropping to a dangerous, gravelly whisper.
"Nora, give it to me," Emma pleaded, her hands shaking violently as she reached for it.
Adrian’s large, tattooed hand shot out, catching Emma’s wrist mid-air. His grip wasn't bruising, but it was an immovable vice of pure steel. His dark eyes flicked up to Emma, burning with a frighteningly controlled fury, before returning to the little girl.
He slowly took the lighter from Nora’s tiny hands. He turned it over. Scratched crudely into the back silver plating were the initials J.C. and a date—a date just weeks before Nora was born.
Adrian’s jaw clenched, the muscles ticking beneath his light stubble. He looked back at Nora.
"Who gave this to you, little one?" Adrian asked, his tone dangerously soft.
Nora pointed a tiny finger directly at Emma.
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"Mommy says Daddy gave it to me," Nora said innocently.
Emma went completely pale, feeling the ground open up beneath her feet.
