The Man Who Refused to Speak

CHAPTER THREE

Lena’s POV 

I barely slept that night.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the warning on my computer screen.

Stop looking into the Vale family.

Someone knew what I was doing. Someone had taken the time to find my email address and send me a warning. I could not tell whether they were trying to protect me or frighten me into giving up.

Either way, I was not going to stop.

By eight the next morning, Ethan and I were standing outside the headquarters of Vale Enterprises in Manhattan.

The building was enormous, with glass walls that reflected the morning sun. People walked in and out through the main entrance, dressed in expensive suits and carrying briefcases.

I looked up at the company sign.

Three years ago, I had stood outside the gates of Damien Vale’s home, begging someone to let me speak to him.

Today, I was going to see him whether he liked it or not.

“Are you sure about this?” Ethan asked.

“No.”

He frowned.

“But I’m going in anyway.”

Before he could reply, I walked towards the entrance.

The receptionist looked up when I approached her desk.

“Good morning. How may I help you?”

“I need to see Damien Vale.”

“Do you have an appointment?”

“No, but tell him Lena Ashford is here.”

She began typing on her computer. When she entered my name, her fingers stopped for a moment.

It was brief, but I noticed.

“Is there a problem?” I asked.

“No, miss. Please take a seat.”

She picked up the telephone and spoke quietly. I could not hear what she said, but she kept glancing in my direction.

A few minutes later, a man in a dark suit approached us.

“Miss Ashford?”

“Yes.”

“Mr. Vale will see you. Follow me.”

I turned to Ethan.

He gave me a small nod, silently reminding me to be careful.

I followed the man into a private elevator. The doors closed, and we began moving upwards.

The higher we went, the tighter my stomach felt.

I had imagined meeting Damien many times over the past three years. In some versions, I screamed at him for failing to find Vivienne. In others, I demanded that he tell me everything he knew.

But now that I was finally going to face him, I was afraid of what I might discover.

The elevator opened onto a quiet floor.

The man led me down a hallway and stopped in front of a large office door.

“Go inside. Mr. Vale is waiting.”

I took a breath and entered.

Damien Vale stood beside the windows with his back to me.

He wore a black suit, and his dark hair was neatly arranged. He looked older than I remembered, though I could not tell whether it was because three years had passed or because I had spent too much time imagining the man who had been part of my sister’s last known plans.

He turned.

His eyes settled on me, and something changed in his expression.

Not surprise.

Recognition.

“Lena Ashford,” he said.

“You remember me.”

“I remember you.”

“Then you remember my sister.”

His jaw tightened.

“Why are you here?”

I stared at him, stunned by the question.

“Why am I here? My sister disappeared on her wedding day, Damien. You were supposed to marry her. I have spent three years looking for her, and you are asking me why I’m here?”

“I know what happened.”

The words silenced me.

For a moment, I could barely breathe.

“You know what happened to Vivienne?”

Damien looked away.

“That’s not what I said.”

“Then what do you mean?”

He walked towards his desk and picked up a document. I watched him, growing angrier with every second he refused to look at me.

“Three years ago, I answered every question the police asked me,” he said. “I gave them everything I had.”

“And that was enough for you?”

His eyes lifted to mine.

“No.”

The answer caught me off guard.

“Then why haven’t you done anything?”

“You think I haven’t?”

“I think you stopped trying long before I did.”

Something cold passed across his face.

“You know nothing about what I have done.”

“Then tell me!”

My voice echoed through the office.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

I wanted him to be angry. I wanted him to defend himself, to give me something I could question. Instead, he stood there with the same controlled expression, as if my pain was an inconvenience he had no intention of entertaining.

I pulled the printed email from my bag and placed it on his desk.

“Someone sent me this last night.”

He looked down at the paper.

“Where did you get this?”

“My email.”

He read the message.

Stop looking into the Vale family.

His expression did not change, but his fingers tightened around the paper.

“Have you received any other messages?”

“No. Why?”

He placed the paper on the desk.

“Who else has seen it?”

“My cousin.”

“Anyone else?”

“No.”

Damien walked to the office door and locked it.

I took an immediate step back.

“What are you doing?”

“Making sure nobody interrupts us.”

“You can leave the door unlocked.”

He ignored me and returned to his desk.

“Did you tell anyone you were coming here?”

“Why does that matter?”

“Answer the question, Lena.”

“I told my cousin. Now tell me why you’re acting as if this message is dangerous.”

He studied me for several seconds.

“Because whoever sent it knows you are investigating my family.”

“I figured that out myself.”

“And you still came here.”

“Yes, because I am looking for my sister!”

For the first time, his calm expression cracked.

“I know what you’re looking for!”

His voice was so sharp that I fell silent.

Damien seemed to realize how loudly he had spoken. He turned away and pressed his fingers against his forehead.

When he faced me again, his expression had returned to its usual coldness.

“Vivienne’s disappearance was investigated. There is nothing more I can give you.”

“That’s a lie.”

His eyes narrowed.

“Be careful what you accuse me of.”

“Then give me a reason to believe you.”

He said nothing.

I reached into my bag and took out Vivienne’s photograph. I had carried it with me for so long that the corners were beginning to bend.

I placed it beside the warning.

“This was taken a few days before your wedding. Look at her face. She was happy, Damien. She was making plans for her future. Whatever happened that morning, I refuse to believe she simply became a name in an old police report.”

He stared at the photograph.

For one brief moment, I saw something in his eyes that I could not understand.

Pain, perhaps.

Or guilt.

Then it disappeared.

“Take your things and leave,” he said.

I looked at him in disbelief.

“You can’t be serious.”

“This conversation is over.”

“You haven’t answered a single question!”

“I have nothing else to say.”

I grabbed the photograph, but I left the email on his desk.

“Fine. Keep your secrets. But if I find out you know something about Vivienne and chose to hide it from me, I will make sure everyone knows what kind of man you really are.”

I turned towards the door.

“Lena.”

I stopped.

It was the first time he had said my name without sounding as if he wanted me gone.

I looked back.

He stood behind his desk, watching me with an expression I could not read.

“Stay away from my family.”

A chill passed through me.

“Why?”

His gaze shifted towards the office windows.

“Because you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”

I waited for him to explain.

He didn’t.

I unlocked the door and walked out.

The elevator ride down felt longer than the journey up. By the time I reached the lobby, anger had replaced most of my fear.

Damien had not told me where Vivienne was. He had not even given me a single useful detail about her disappearance.

But his reaction to that email told me something.

The warning had frightened him.

And that meant I had found a reason to keep digging.

Ethan was waiting outside.

“Well?” he asked as soon as he saw me.

“He was useless.”

“Did he say anything about the message?”

“He knew it was serious. He asked who had seen it, then told me to stay away from his family.”

Ethan’s face hardened.

“That doesn’t sound like a man who wants to help.”

“No. It sounds like a man who knows more than he is willing to admit.”

We started walking towards the car park.

I had almost reached the pavement when I noticed a woman standing across the road.

She wore a long grey coat and held a phone against her ear. She was watching the entrance to Vale Enterprises.

When our eyes met, she quickly looked away.

Something about her seemed familiar, though I could not place it.

I turned to Ethan.

“Wait here.”

“Lena, what are you doing?”

“I want to speak to that woman.”

I crossed the road, keeping my eyes on her.

But before I could reach her, she ended her call and walked quickly towards the next street.

“Excuse me!” I called.

She did not stop.

I hurried after her, but a delivery truck passed between us. By the time it moved, she was gone.

I stood on the pavement, searching the crowd.

Then I noticed something lying near the place where she had been standing.

A small folded piece of paper.

I picked it up and opened it.

There were only two words written inside.

ASK DAMIEN.

My fingers went cold.

Beneath the words was a date.

The date of Vivienne’s wedding.

I read it again, trying to understand why a stranger would leave me a message connected to the day my sister disappeared.

Then my phone rang.

The number was unknown.

I answered immediately.

“Hello?”

For several seconds, there was only silence.

Then a woman’s voice whispered, “You shouldn’t have gone to see him.”

“Who is this? Do you know what happened to my sister?”

I heard a sharp breath on the other end.

“Stop asking questions about that wedding.”

“Why? What happened that day?”

The woman went quiet.

I thought she had ended the call when she spoke again.

“Because Damien Vale was not the only person waiting for your sister that morning.”

The line went dead.

I stared at my phone, my heart pounding.

Who else had been waiting for Vivienne?

And why had nobody told me?