Chapter 2 - The Scent of Blood and MoneyThe salon was cleared in under four minutes.
Marco didn't ask questions; he simply moved through the floor, escorting the stylists and clients out the side door while handing each person a non-disclosure agreement backed by the full, lethal reputation of the Kane network. Only Théo remained, his hands trembling as he helped wash the remaining grime from Evangeline’s hair at the private VIP washing station.
Warm water cascaded over her head, washing away seven years of street dust, soot, and winter frost. As the water ran clear down the porcelain drain, the true state of her hair was revealed.
It wasn't black or gray as it had appeared under the mud.
It was a brilliant, shimmering shade of dark auburn—thick, wavy, and falling just past her shoulder blades now that the matted mass had been removed. When Théo finished drying it with a soft cotton towel and smoothed a light serum through the ends, the woman sitting in the leather chair no longer looked like a shadow from an alleyway.
She was breathtaking. High cheekbones, a delicate straight nose, soft lips that had been chapped raw, and those striking, fierce blue eyes that seemed to see right through the room's expensive veneer.
Adrian sat on a low leather bench three feet away, a fresh glass of bourbon untouched in his hand. His own wound was throbbing beneath his suit jacket, but he ignored it completely.
"Ten years ago," Adrian said softly, his voice cutting through the quiet hum of the blow dryer, "your uncle, Victor Vance, took control of the Vance-Sterling trust after the fire. He claimed your father's seats on four international bank boards. He sold off the shipping routes in Newark to a firm based out of Chicago."
Evangeline looked at her reflection in the gilded mirror. She reached up with a trembling hand, touching her neck, feeling the sudden, strange lightness of her head.
"Victor didn't just take the seats," she said, her voice dropping into a low, clear tone that held no trace of the street rasping from before. "He started the fire."
Adrian leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Can you prove it?"
"I was fifteen," she said, looking straight into Adrian’s eyes through the mirror. "My father knew Victor was laundering money through the port terminals. He called a family meeting to strip Victor of his proxy rights. That night, the main gas line in the basement was cut. I saw Victor's chief head of security, a man named Sterling Vance, standing in the garden with a blowtorch while the alarm was ringing."
"Why didn't you go to the police?" Marco asked from the doorway.
Evangeline let out a dry, bitter laugh. "The chief of police was sitting at Victor's dinner table two nights before the fire. I ran into the woods behind the estate with nothing but my nightgown and my mother's ring around my neck. I ran until my feet were bleeding. Then I got on a freight train to the city."
She turned in her chair to face Adrian directly.
"I learned very quickly that if you look like a human being, people look at your face. If you look like trash, people look at the ground. I let my hair grow. I let the city cover me. The dirt became my armor, Adrian. For seven years, no one looked at my face. No one recognized the 'dead' Vance-Sterling girl."
Adrian stood up slowly, his tall frame blocking the bright morning light coming through the front windows.
"The armor worked," Adrian said. "But you don't need dirt to stay alive anymore."
"Why?" Evangeline asked, her eyes narrowing with a mixture of suspicion and raw hope. "Because you owe me for one night in an alley? You're a crime boss, Adrian Kane. You don't do charity."
"You're right," Adrian replied, taking a step toward her until he was standing directly over her chair. "I don't do charity. I do business. And Victor Vance happens to be the man who paid three hitmen to put a bullet in my side behind the Suffolk Street theater yesterday morning."
Evangeline froze. "Victor tried to kill you?"
"Victor wants control of the private security contracts at the Newark docks," Adrian said, a dark, dangerous smile touching his lips. "My docks. He thought eliminating me would open the door for his takeover."
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He reached out, his long fingers gently picking up the platinum signet ring hanging from her neck, letting the black star sapphire catch the salon light.
"He tried to take my life," Adrian murmured, his voice dropping into an icy whisper. "And he took yours ten years ago. It seems to me, Evangeline, that we have the exact same enemy."
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