Chapter 4 - A Shadow on the Terrace
Ava backed away from the balcony glass, her breath catching in her throat.
The silhouette outside shifted through the rain.
A tall, broad-shouldered figure stood motionless against the stone balustrade.
Ava reached toward the bedside table, her fingers wrapping around the heavy brass telephone.
Before she could lift the receiver, three quick, rhythmic taps sounded against the windowpane.
Tap.
Tap-tap.
It was the exact same rhythm the stranger had tapped against her steering wheel seven years ago.
Her fingers froze on the receiver.
The figure stepped closer to the glass.
Through the rain-streaked pane, the dim light from the room caught his face.
Ava gasped.
The jawline was sharper, weathered by years in the wind and cold.
A thin white scar ran from his temple down to his cheekbone.
He was ten years older than the framed portrait she had seen in the estate gallery downstairs.
But there was no mistaking the eyes.
They were Nico’s eyes, hardened by a decade of living in the dark.
Ethan Vale was standing on the fourth-floor terrace of his family home.
Ava walked toward the balcony doors as if drawn by an invisible wire.
Her hand reached out and unlatched the heavy brass lock.
She pushed the door open.
The freezing autumn wind rushed into the bedroom, carrying the smell of wet earth and salt.
Rain instantly soaked her shirt, but she didn't feel the cold.
Ethan stood less than two feet away, water dripping from the brim of a dark canvas jacket.
He looked down at the bandage on her shoulder, his jaw tightening.
"You shouldn't have jumped, Ava," his voice was rough, like gravel rolling under heavy surf.
"You're real," she breathed, her voice trembling in the wind.
"Nico thinks you were blown apart on a boat ten years ago."
"Nico needs to keep thinking that," Ethan said, his voice flat and urgent.
"He is tearing this city apart trying to find out who tried to kill him," Ava whispered.
"The people trying to kill Nico aren't from the outside," Ethan said.
"They sit at his dining table."
"They sign his payroll."
"If Nico knew I was alive, he would burn down half the state to find me."
"And that would bring the real wolves straight to his throat."
Ava shook her head, unable to comprehend the labyrinth of lies.
"Why did you save me seven years ago?" she asked.
"Your father wasn't just an accountant, Ava," Ethan said, leaning in.
"He managed the private manifests for Vale Logistics."
"He discovered the shipment that was meant to blow up my yacht three days before it happened."
"He tried to warn me, but my enemies got to him first."
"They ruined him, buried him in artificial debts, and pushed him into an early grave."
"I owed Arthur Collins a debt I could never repay."
"Keeping you alive was the only thing I could do for him."
Ava felt tears burn behind her eyes, hot against the cold rain on her cheeks.
Her father hadn't died a reckless gambler or a failed businessman.
He had died trying to protect this man.
"Nico has your signet ring," Ava whispered.
"I know," Ethan said.
He reached into the inner pocket of his heavy coat and pulled out a small, tarnished brass key.
He pressed it firmly into Ava’s uninjured right hand.
The metal was ice-cold.
"What is this?" she asked.
"That key opens safety deposit box 404 at the Grand Commercial Bank on North Shore," Ethan said.
"Inside that box is the original manifest your father copied ten years ago."
"It lists the names of the family members who authorized the purchase of the military explosive."
"The same explosive that is being manufactured in the estate workshop right now."
Ava’s blood ran cold.
"The grease on the bolt," she realized out loud.
"Helena Romano," Ethan said, his voice deadly dark.
"My father's second wife."
"Nico’s stepmother."
"She orchestrated my death so her own son, Julian, could inherit the Romano empire."
"When Julian died in a car crash five years ago, Nico became her only obstacle."
"She wants Nico dead before the board meets on Friday."
"Why don't you bring this to Nico yourself?" Ava begged.
"Because Nico trusts Marcus," Ethan said grimly.
Ava felt the world lurch sideways.
"Marcus?"
"Marcus has been on Helena’s payroll since before I was born," Ethan said.
"If Nico sees me, Marcus will know the truth."
"And Marcus will kill Nico before he ever reaches that bank."
Footsteps echoed from the corridor outside the bedroom.
Heavy, purposeful boots against the marble floor.
Ethan stepped backward over the stone balustrade, disappearing into the dark shadows of the trellis.
"Get the manifest, Ava," Ethan whispered from the dark.
"Give it directly to Nico when he is away from this house."
"Don't trust anyone wearing the Romano crest."
Before Ava could answer, Ethan vanished into the rain like smoke.
Ava pulled the balcony door shut and twisted the brass lock just as the bedroom door flew open.
Marcus stepped into the room, his hand resting on the holster beneath his suit jacket.
His sharp eyes scanned the room, lingering on the puddle of rainwater beneath Ava’s bare feet.
"You shouldn't have the balcony unlocked, Miss Collins," Marcus said, his voice deceptively smooth.
"It was stuffy," Ava said, forcing her voice to remain completely steady.
"The pain in my shoulder made it hard to breathe."
Marcus walked slowly toward the glass, his eyes narrowing as he inspected the lock.
He looked down at the wooden floorboards, noticing the wet droplets.
"You're shivering," Marcus said, turning his cold gaze back to her face.
"I'm in shock, Mr. Vance," Ava replied, holding her hands behind her back, concealing the brass key.
"A chandelier nearly crushed me two hours ago."
Marcus stared at her for five agonizing seconds.
"The matriarch has arrived," Marcus said, his tone turning crisp.
"Mrs. Helena Romano wishes to speak with the brave girl who saved her stepson."
May you like
"She is waiting in the downstairs parlor."
"And Mrs. Romano does not like to be kept waiting."
