The Message

Adrian stared at the screen.

You came too early.

Four simple words.

Yet they carried a weight he couldn't explain.

The message had arrived from an unknown number. No name. No information. No clue as to who had sent it.

Only those four words.

Slowly, he read them again.

Then again.

A year ago, he would have dismissed it as a prank.

A month ago, he would have handed it to security and forgotten about it.

But tonight was different.

Tonight, someone had painted his death.

A stranger had looked at him as though she'd seen a ghost.

And then she'd told him something impossible.

"You're not supposed to meet me until the day you die."

Now this.

"You came too early."

The two statements felt connected.

As though they were pieces of the same puzzle.

The problem was that Adrian couldn't see the picture they formed.

His thumb hovered over the screen.

For a moment, he considered replying.

Instead, he slipped the phone back into his pocket.

Whoever had sent the message clearly knew something.

Replying would only tell them they had his attention.

And right now, Adrian wanted answers more than he wanted to give away information.

A voice echoed through the corridor behind him.

"Mr. Voss."

Marcus.

Adrian turned.

His head of security was approaching quickly.

The man's expression wasn't difficult to read.

Something had happened.

"What is it?" Adrian asked.

Marcus stopped a few feet away.

"We found the artist."

Adrian's pulse quickened.

"And?"

Marcus hesitated.

That alone was enough to make Adrian uneasy.

Marcus never hesitated.

"The artist isn't here."

"What do you mean?"

"The guest list confirms she attended."

A pause.

"But security footage shows her leaving the estate forty-two minutes before the exhibition started."

Adrian frowned.

"That's impossible."

Marcus nodded.

"That's exactly what I thought."

The exhibition's main attraction had been unveiled less than twenty minutes ago.

Which meant the artist had supposedly left before anyone had even seen the painting.

Before the room had fallen silent.

Before the crowd had gathered around it.

Before Adrian himself had arrived.

The timeline made no sense.

"Where is she now?" Adrian asked.

"We don't know."

Marcus handed him a tablet.

A photograph filled the screen.

A woman stood beside a large canvas.

Dark blonde hair.

Green eyes.

Mid-thirties.

Definitely not the woman from the ballroom.

Adrian looked up.

"This isn't her."

Marcus frowned.

"The artist?"

"The woman."

Marcus studied him carefully.

For the first time, Adrian realized he hadn't mentioned her.

Not to Marcus.

Not to anyone.

"There's another woman involved?" Marcus asked.

Adrian hesitated.

He wasn't sure why.

Perhaps because the entire thing sounded ridiculous when spoken aloud.

A mysterious woman.

A prophecy of death.

A blackout.

An anonymous message.

It sounded like the plot of a bad novel.

Yet every part of it had happened.

"There was someone standing in front of the painting."

Marcus waited.

"And?"

"She said something strange."

"What kind of strange?"

Adrian considered repeating her exact words.

Instead, he shook his head.

"It doesn't matter."

Marcus's expression suggested he disagreed.

Fortunately, he chose not to argue.

"Should I have security locate her?"

"Yes."

"Description?"

Adrian immediately pictured her face.

The pale blue eyes.

The dark hair.

The fear hidden beneath her calm expression.

A strange sensation twisted inside his chest.

As if merely remembering her was enough to unsettle him.

He pushed the feeling aside.

"Dark hair. Blue eyes. Black dress."

Marcus stared at him.

"That's half the women in this building."

Adrian almost smiled.

"Then start with the ones who looked terrified when they saw me."

Marcus sighed.

"That narrows it down considerably."

Without another word, he turned and disappeared back toward the ballroom.

Adrian remained alone in the corridor.

His gaze drifted toward a nearby window.

Rain had begun falling outside.

Tiny droplets tapped softly against the glass.

The sound reminded him of the painting.

Rain.

Lilies.

A coffin.

His coffin.

The image refused to leave his mind.

A sudden memory surfaced.

Something he had noticed earlier.

Something he'd overlooked.

The headstone.

Not just the date.

There had been something else.

A symbol.

Small.

Barely visible near the bottom of the stone.

Adrian straightened.

The woman had worn a silver pendant.

And on that pendant—

The same symbol.

His heartbeat quickened.

He knew he wasn't imagining it.

The image flashed clearly through his memory.

A circle intersected by three thin lines.

Simple.

Elegant.

Unfamiliar.

Yet somehow significant.

Why would the same symbol appear both on the headstone and around the woman's neck?

The coincidence felt too deliberate.

Too precise.

A notification sound interrupted his thoughts.

His phone vibrated again.

Adrian immediately reached for it.

Another message.

Unknown number.

This time there were only three words.

Leave the estate.

His expression darkened.

A second message appeared before he could react.

Now.

Adrian stared at the screen.

For several seconds, he did nothing.

Then—

His phone rang.

The sudden sound echoed through the corridor.

Unknown caller.

The same number.

For the first time all evening, Adrian felt genuine hesitation.

Every instinct told him not to answer.

He accepted the call anyway.

Silence.

No voice.

No breathing.

Nothing.

Then a woman spoke.

Not the woman from the ballroom.

An older voice.

Calm.

Urgent.

Afraid.

"Mr. Voss?"

Adrian's grip tightened around the phone.

"Who is this?"

"You have to leave."

The line crackled.

Static hissed through the speaker.

Adrian's patience disappeared.

"Who are you?"

The woman ignored the question.

"Listen carefully."

The fear in her voice made his stomach tighten.

"You're in danger."

Adrian laughed softly.

"Danger is a daily occurrence for me."

"This isn't."

The certainty in her tone erased his amusement immediately.

A long silence followed.

Then she spoke again.

Very quietly.

"As long as you're there, they'll find you."

Adrian's eyes narrowed.

"They?"

The woman didn't answer.

Instead, he heard something unexpected.

Footsteps.

Running.

As though she was moving.

Or hiding.

Then her breathing became uneven.

Panicked.

Terrified.

The sound sent a cold chill through him.

"What's happening?" he demanded.

For a moment, all he heard was static.

Then the woman whispered something.

So quietly he almost missed it.

"They know you met her."

Adrian froze.

His heartbeat thundered in his ears.

The woman.

The mysterious stranger.

The one with pale blue eyes.

Before he could ask another question—

A loud crash echoed through the phone.

The woman screamed.

The call ended.

Silence.

Adrian lowered the phone slowly.

The corridor suddenly felt colder than before.

Far colder.

For several seconds, he simply stood there.

Listening.

Thinking.

Trying to make sense of everything.

Then he noticed something.

A reflection.

In the dark glass of the nearby window.

Someone was standing behind him.

Watching.

Adrian spun around instantly.

The corridor was empty.

No footsteps.

No movement.

No one there.

Yet when he looked back at the glass—

The reflection was gone.

And written across the fogged surface of the window were three words.

Words that hadn't been there moments earlier.

Find her first.

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