Chapter 9: The Envelope

I read the message twice.

Rooftop café on 5th. Tomorrow 2 p.m. Come alone if you want the rest of the proof.

I did not answer. I locked the phone and went back to bed. Adrian was still turned toward the window. I lay beside him without touching and waited for morning.

The next day I dressed simply. Dark jeans. White blouse. No jewelry. I told Rosa I had a long meeting at the company and left before Adrian could ask questions. The driver dropped me two streets away from the café. I walked the rest of the way.

The rooftop was quiet. A few tables under white umbrellas. I chose one near the edge where I could see the door. At exactly two a woman walked in. Older than me. Maybe mid-fifties. Calm face. Gray streak in her hair. She carried a thin brown envelope.

She sat across from me without smiling.

“You’re Lila.”

“Yes.”

She placed the envelope on the table between us.

“I used to work for his family. Years ago. I saw things. I kept quiet then. I’m not quiet anymore.”

I did not reach for the envelope yet.

“What do you want?”

“I want him ruined,” she said. “The same way he ruins women. If you’re serious, open it.”

I pulled the envelope closer and lifted the flap. Inside were photographs. Clear ones. Adrian and Maya at a hotel restaurant. Adrian’s hand on her lower back. Another photo of them leaving a building together at night. The dates on the back were more than two years old — long before he ever asked me to marry him.

Under the photos was a single bank statement. Money moving from an account under Adrian’s control into one with Maya’s initials. Small amounts at first. Then larger.

The woman watched my face.

“He did this to someone else before you. A girl from finance. He took everything she had and left her with nothing. I have more if you want it. But only if you plan to finish him.”

I slid the photos and the statement back into the envelope.

“I’ll take what you have.”

She nodded once.

“I’ll contact you again.”

She stood and left without another word. I stayed at the table five more minutes, then went downstairs and called my driver.

Adrian was already home when I walked through the door. He met me in the hallway. His eyes moved over my face, my clothes, the bag on my shoulder.

“Where were you?” he asked.

“Company meeting. It ran long.”

He did not wait for more. He pulled me against him and kissed me hard. One hand slid under my blouse. The other gripped my hip where the mark from yesterday still sat. He walked me backward into the kitchen until my lower back hit the counter.

“I thought about you all day,” he muttered against my mouth. His cock was already hard. He pressed it against me through his pants and my jeans. “You’re driving me crazy with this waiting.”

His hand moved higher under my blouse and cupped my breast. He pinched the nipple through the thin fabric of my bra. I let out a soft sound and pushed my hips forward just enough to keep him going. He groaned and ground against me harder.

“Let me have you,” he said. “Right here.”

I kissed him back for another minute, long enough for his breathing to turn rough. Then I placed both hands on his chest and stepped sideways.

“I need a shower first,” I said. “I feel sticky from the day.”

His eyes flashed. He kept his hands on me a second longer, then let go.

“Hurry.”

I took the envelope with me into the bathroom and locked the door. The water started running. I sat on the closed toilet lid and opened the envelope again under the bright light.

I flipped through the photos slowly. One near the bottom made my hands go still.

Adrian and Maya in a dim room. Her back against a wall. His hand wrapped around her throat. The exact same grip. The exact same angle. The look on his face was the same one he had worn the night he killed me.

I stared at it until the edges of the photo blurred.