The Man in the Black Car

Chapter Three

For the next three days, I lived like a prisoner.

Not because anyone had locked me inside my apartment.

Because I was afraid to leave it.

I stopped going to the club.

I stopped going to university.

I barely went to the hospital.

Every time my phone rang, I stared at the screen until the call ended.

Every time a car slowed outside my building, I held my breath.

And every time I looked through the curtains, I saw the same black SUV.

It never parked directly in front of my building.

That would have been too obvious.

Instead, it stayed across the street.

Sometimes for twenty minutes.

Sometimes for hours.

Once, I watched it remain there from sunset until nearly midnight.

I couldn't see the driver through the tinted windows.

But I knew someone was inside.

Watching.

Waiting.

I should have called the police.

I knew that.

But fear had become a second voice inside my head.

What if they know?

What if they have people inside the police department?

What if calling them makes everything worse?

So I did nothing.

On the fourth morning, I ran out of food.

I stood in my kitchen staring at the nearly empty refrigerator.

Half a bottle of milk.

Three eggs.

A jar of mustard.

Nothing else.

I sighed.

"Great."

My father's hospital bill was sitting on the counter.

I had folded it in half because I couldn't stand looking at the number.

The amount due had increased again.

I closed my eyes.

I couldn't hide in this apartment forever.

My father needed me.

I needed money.

And if I didn't return to work soon, I would lose the only job paying me enough to keep up with the bills.

So I made a decision.

I would go to the club.

Just once.

I'd talk to my manager.

I'd collect my things.

Then I'd figure out what to do.

I dressed carefully.

Black jeans.

A gray sweater.

A long coat.

Nothing that made me stand out.

Before leaving, I checked the street from behind the curtain.

The black SUV wasn't there.

My shoulders relaxed.

Maybe they'd finally stopped watching me.

I grabbed my purse.

Locked the door.

And stepped outside.

The moment my feet touched the pavement, I knew I'd made a mistake.

A silver sedan was parked near the corner.

I didn't recognize it.

But when I started walking, it started moving.

Slowly.

My pulse jumped.

I walked faster.

The sedan continued behind me.

I turned into a crowded street.

The car followed.

I stopped outside a bakery.

The sedan passed.

I waited.

It didn't come back.

Maybe it had nothing to do with me.

Maybe I was becoming paranoid.

I forced myself to breathe.

Then my phone vibrated.

Unknown number.

I didn't answer.

A message appeared.

You shouldn't be walking alone.

My blood ran cold.

I looked around.

People everywhere.

A woman carrying groceries.

A man walking his dog.

Two teenagers laughing.

A bus stopping at the corner.

And then I saw him.

Across the street.

A man in a black coat.

He was leaning against a car.

Watching me.

I recognized him.

He had been at the hospital.

Victor.

I turned away immediately.

I didn't run.

I refused to.

Instead, I walked into the bakery.

The bell above the door chimed.

"Morning."

The woman behind the counter smiled.

"Good morning."

I forced a smile back.

"Can I use your restroom?"

She pointed toward the back.

"Of course."

I walked quickly.

Once inside, I locked the door.

My breathing became uneven.

I pulled out my phone.

There was another message.

You can keep running. It won't change anything.

I stared at the screen.

Then another message arrived.

Come to the Velvet Room tonight.

I frowned.

Why?

I typed before I could stop myself.

Who are you?

The answer came immediately.

You know who.

I deleted the conversation.

My hands were shaking.

I stayed inside the restroom for nearly ten minutes before forcing myself to leave.

When I stepped outside, Victor was gone.

So was the silver sedan.

I hurried toward the club.

The Velvet Room was only a few blocks away.

During the day, it looked completely different.

The neon lights were off.

The windows were dark.

The glamorous entrance looked almost depressing beneath the morning sun.

I knocked on the employee door.

After a few seconds, my manager opened it.

His expression changed when he saw me.

"Lena."

"Hi."

He looked me up and down.

"Where have you been?"

"I've been sick."

"Four days?"

I nodded.

He sighed.

"You can't just disappear."

"I know."

"People have been asking about you."

My stomach tightened.

"Who?"

He frowned.

"Customers."

"Oh."

"Especially one."

I didn't like the way he said that.

"Who?"

He hesitated.

"Damien."

The world seemed to tilt.

I gripped the doorframe.

"What?"

My manager looked confused.

"You know him?"

"No."

The lie came too quickly.

"Who's Damien?"

He stared at me.

"Damien De Luca."

I couldn't breathe.

The name I'd heard in the alley.

The man who had pulled the trigger.

"What about him?"

"He comes here sometimes."

My stomach twisted.

"How often?"

"Not often."

"Why are you telling me this?"

"Because he asked about you."

My fingers went cold.

"What did you tell him?"

"Nothing."

My manager stepped closer.

"He knows you work here. He asked if you'd been coming in."

I swallowed.

"Did you tell him where I live?"

His expression hardened.

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

I nodded.

"Okay."

I turned to leave.

"Lena."

I stopped.

"Don't get involved with people like him."

I looked back.

"What kind of people?"

My manager's expression told me everything.

"The kind who don't need to raise their voice to make everyone listen."

I left.

The moment I stepped outside, I knew I was being watched again.

I walked quickly.

A black car was parked at the end of the street.

Not the SUV.

A sedan.

The driver's window lowered.

Victor.

I stopped.

He looked at me.

"Get in."

"No."

"You don't understand."

"I understand perfectly."

"You need to come with me."

"Why?"

"Because if you stay here, someone else might find you first."

My stomach dropped.

"Who?"

Victor didn't answer.

That scared me more than anything else.

I stepped backward.

"I'm going home."

He sighed.

"Lena."

"No."

I turned.

Then I heard another voice.

"Let her walk."

I froze.

Victor immediately straightened.

The entire street seemed to go silent.

I slowly turned around.

A black SUV had pulled up behind us.

The rear door opened.

And he stepped out.

Damien De Luca.

The man from the warehouse.

The man who had killed someone in front of me.

He looked exactly as I remembered.

Black suit.

Dark shirt.

Cold eyes.

Except now I could see him clearly.

He was older than me.

Much older.

Thirty-something, maybe.

There was something about him that made the space around him feel smaller.

People walking nearby glanced at him and immediately looked away.

Damien looked at Victor.

"I said let her walk."

Victor nodded.

"Of course."

Damien's eyes moved to me.

My heart hammered.

He took one step forward.

I stepped backward.

He stopped.

Interesting.

That was the first thought that crossed my mind when he saw my reaction.

Not fear.

Not anger.

Interest.

"You've been avoiding me."

His voice was calm.

"I don't know you."

"You saw me."

I couldn't answer.

"You saw what happened."

My mouth went dry.

"Yes."

There was no point lying.

His eyes remained on mine.

"What did you tell anyone?"

"Nothing."

"Why?"

I swallowed.

"Because I don't want to die."

Something almost resembling amusement flickered across his face.

Almost.

"You have more sense than I expected."

"I don't want anything from you."

"I know."

"Then leave me alone."

"I can't."

My heart sank.

"Why?"

"Because you know too much."

I looked at the men around him.

There were three.

Maybe four.

All watching me.

"What are you going to do?"

Damien's jaw tightened slightly.

"That depends on you."

"On me?"

"If you keep quiet, you'll remain alive."

I stared at him.

"And if I talk?"

He didn't answer.

He didn't need to.

The silence was answer enough.

I hated him.

I hated the calmness in his voice.

I hated the fact that he didn't need to threaten me.

I hated the fear he created simply by standing there.

But beneath the fear was something else.

Something I didn't want to acknowledge.

Curiosity.

Who was this man?

Why did everyone obey him?

How many people had he killed?

And why had he decided not to kill me?

I turned away.

"I'm going home."

Damien didn't stop me.

I walked.

One step.

Then another.

I expected someone to grab me.

Nobody did.

When I reached the corner, I looked back.

Damien was still standing there.

Watching me.

His expression hadn't changed.

Then he said something to Victor.

I couldn't hear the words.

Victor looked toward me.

Then back at Damien.

Whatever Damien had said, Victor nodded.

I continued walking.

I didn't see Damien get back into the SUV.

I didn't see the vehicles follow me.

But when I reached my building, I knew.

Because the black SUV was already waiting outside.

I stopped at the entrance.

My phone vibrated.

I looked at the screen.

One message.

We need to talk.

I stared at it.

Another message appeared.

Tonight.

Then a final one.

Come alone.

I looked toward the black SUV.

The rear window was dark.

But somehow, I knew Damien was sitting inside.

Watching me.

Waiting.

And for the first time, I understood something terrifying.

The man wasn't asking me to meet him.

He was telling me.

And whatever he wanted from me was about to change my life forever.