I Got Into the Wrong Car at Midnight. The Billionaire Inside Already Knew My Name.
PART 2
My blood turned cold.
The rain suddenly felt heavier.
I slowly turned around.
Noah was still sitting inside the black sedan.
One arm resting against the open window.
Watching me.
Waiting.
"How do you know my last name?" I asked.
His expression changed.
Not guilty.
Not surprised.
Concerned.
The kind of concern people have when they realize they’ve made a mistake.
"I shouldn’t have said that."
My stomach tightened.
"What does that mean?"
The driver glanced nervously into the rearview mirror.
Noah sighed.
For the first time that evening, he looked uncomfortable.
Very uncomfortable.
"Lena…"
"No."
I took a step back.
"You don’t get to use my first name like we’re friends."
The rain soaked my hair.
Neither of us seemed to notice.
"How do you know who I am?"
Noah rubbed a hand across his jaw.
Then he said something that made even less sense.
"Because I’ve been looking for you."
The world seemed to stop.
For a second I wondered if I was still asleep.
If this was some bizarre dream created by exhaustion.
"What?"
"I know how that sounds."
"It sounds insane."
"Fair."
I laughed once.
A short, nervous laugh.
"You’re a billionaire."
"So people keep telling me."
"And you’ve been looking for me?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Noah didn’t answer.
That frightened me more than anything.
Because people with harmless reasons answer quickly.
People with dangerous reasons hesitate.
"Lena."
His voice softened.
"Did your mother ever talk about a man named Daniel Marlowe?"
The name hit me like ice water.
Daniel Marlowe.
My father.
Or at least the name written on my birth certificate.
A man I had never met.
A man my mother refused to discuss.
A man who had apparently disappeared before I learned to walk.
I stared at Noah.
"How do you know that name?"
His jaw tightened.
The answer was immediate.
Too immediate.
"Because my father knew him."
Every instinct inside me screamed that something wasn’t right.
"What does that have to do with me?"
Noah looked away briefly.
Toward the rain.
Toward the dark city.
Anywhere except at me.
Then he said the last thing I expected.
"Everything."
The silence between us felt enormous.
Dangerous.
Confusing.
Finally I shook my head.
"No."
"No?"
"No."
I pointed toward my apartment building.
"I don’t know who you are."
A faint smile touched his face.
"You definitely know who I am now."
"You know what I mean."
The smile disappeared.
I continued.
"I don’t know why you’re here."
"I told you."
"You said you’ve been looking for me."
"Yes."
"That’s not an explanation."
For a moment he looked like someone carrying a weight he didn’t know how to put down.
Then a black SUV suddenly turned onto the street.
Fast.
Too fast.
Its headlights cut through the rain.
Noah’s entire expression changed.
Instantly.
The warmth vanished.
The humor disappeared.
The relaxed billionaire in the expensive suit was gone.
In his place stood someone alert.
Focused.
Almost alarmed.
The SUV slowed.
Noah cursed under his breath.
The driver was already reaching for his phone.
"Lena."
His voice was sharper now.
"Go inside."
"What?"
"Now."
My pulse quickened.
The SUV stopped half a block away.
Its engine remained running.
Nobody got out.
Nobody needed to.
Something about it felt wrong.
Very wrong.
"Noah—"
"Inside."
His eyes never left the vehicle.
For the first time that night, I obeyed.
Not because he was rich.
Not because he was powerful.
Because he sounded genuinely afraid.
I backed toward my building entrance.
The SUV remained motionless.
Watching.
Waiting.
The rain continued to fall.
Then Noah looked directly at me.
And spoke four words that would change my life forever.
"They found you first."
The door to the SUV opened.
And someone stepped out.
Someone carrying a photograph.
My photograph.
To be continued…
