Chapter 3 - THE MAN ADRIAN TRUSTED
Marco Bellini arrived twelve minutes later.
He was Adrian's personal security chief, a quiet man in his early forties with a scar beneath his chin and the controlled movements of someone who had survived too many dangerous nights.
Unlike Dean, Marco never raised his voice at the staff.
He greeted the cooks by name.
He helped elderly housekeeper Mrs. Alvarez carry heavy boxes.
And when I once dropped a tray of glasses, he helped me collect the pieces without making me feel foolish.
Still, when he entered Adrian's suite, my heart began racing.
Adrian noticed.
"Claire, this is Marco."
"I know."
Marco looked at my blanket, my bare feet, and the fireplace poker resting beside the door.
His expression changed.
"What happened?"
Adrian answered.
"Someone has been threatening her."
Marco went still.
"Who?"
"Dean Russo."
The silence was immediate.
Marco looked at me.
Then at Adrian.
"Are you certain?"
Adrian's voice was cold.
"She heard Dean discussing the west gate and a six-minute camera interruption."
Marco's face hardened.
"Thursday?"
Adrian nodded.
Marco exhaled sharply.
"That's tomorrow."
I stared between them.
"What happens tomorrow?"
Adrian didn't answer immediately.
Then he said:
"A private meeting."
Marco stepped closer.
"With the Atlantic delegation?"
"Yes."
My stomach tightened.
I'd heard the staff discussing the meeting.
Several powerful businessmen were coming to the estate to negotiate a shipping agreement.
But I hadn't known it was important enough to attract enemies.
Marco turned toward me.
"Claire, did you hear any names?"
I closed my eyes.
I forced myself to remember.
The music room.
The smell of furniture polish.
Dean's voice.
The other man's low laugh.
Then one sentence returned.
"He said something about a silver key."
Marco's expression changed.
"What silver key?"
"I don't know."
Adrian looked at Marco.
Marco shook his head.
"There are no silver keys in the current security system."
I swallowed.
"Maybe I misunderstood."
Adrian leaned forward.
"No. Don't dismiss what you heard."
His words surprised me.
He wasn't treating me like a foolish employee.
He was listening.
Marco took out his phone.
"I'll check the old maintenance plans."
Adrian nodded.
"Quietly."
Then he turned toward me.
"Claire, I want you to stay in the guest suite beside mine."
I immediately shook my head.
"I can't."
"Why?"
"Dean will notice."
Adrian's expression darkened.
"Dean won't be allowed near you."
"But if he knows I told you—"
"He won't."
I looked at Marco.
He nodded.
"We'll move you without using the regular staff corridors."
I wanted to believe them.
But fear had become a habit.
And habits don't disappear because powerful men make promises.
Still, when Marco escorted me toward the adjoining guest suite, Adrian spoke again.
"Claire."
I turned.
"Yes?"
His voice softened.
"You should never have needed to sleep outside my door to feel safe."
My throat tightened.
"I didn't know where else to go."
For a moment, something painful crossed his face.
May you like
Then he said:
"Now you do."
