The Night He Left Us in the Snow

Adrian stayed away for the next few days, and I never asked where he was.

A secretary from Moretti Security called a few days later to remind me about the annual product launch.

I almost refused, but the port defense system was three years of my work, and I had overseen every core stage. Adrian had once said he would sit below the stage on launch day and watch me take my place there.

When I arrived at the hotel ballroom, the room was already full. Investors, dock union representatives, Moretti advisers, and several family figures attending under clean public identities were waiting for the system to be unveiled. My speech had been submitted in advance, and my name was still on the backstage screen.

Before I could step onto the stage, Adrian stopped me in the side corridor.

“The company has arranged someone else for the presentation.”

“Who?”

The host’s voice rose from the stage before he answered. Moments later, Lucia Vale’s name was announced.

Lucia walked to the front in a white suit, her eyes faintly red, her makeup carefully done. She bowed slightly, lifted the microphone, and began reading from the script I had written.

“Good afternoon, distinguished guests. On behalf of Moretti Security, welcome. I’ll be introducing the port defense system we’re launching today.”

The screen lit up behind her with my system architecture diagram.

I turned to Adrian. “If this was already arranged, why notify me?”

“You’re the project lead. You should be here.”

“Lucia can’t explain the backend permission layers.”

“She only needs to finish the presentation.” Adrian kept his voice low. “Elena, you’re already the youngest security architect in the industry. You don’t need this kind of title. Lucia is new to the company. She needs credentials more than you do.”

Onstage, Lucia moved through the prepared remarks. She paused at data isolation and access tracing, then skipped past them with a sentence someone had clearly written for her. A few senior engineers glanced toward me before lowering their eyes.

I remembered my father asking me once, after Lucia returned from Europe and became Adrian’s private assistant, “Elena, is she really just his assistant?”

Back then, I had defended them. Lucia had grown up with Adrian, her health was poor, and the Morettis owed her father a life debt. If there had been anything between them, I told myself, there would never have been room for me seven years ago.

Adrian watched the stage as if nothing about this arrangement required an apology.

“Tomorrow is our engagement ceremony,” he said. “Are you ready?”

I looked at the slide Lucia had just turned and gave a small nod.

“Your father must be looking forward to it too. I’ve called him several times over the past few days, but no one has answered. What was his phone doing in that bag yesterday? Is he unwell again, and that’s why you won’t let me contact him?”

Applause broke out from the ballroom and cut off the rest of his question.

Lucia’s presentation had ended. On the final slide, beneath the system name, she had added one line.

Lead Presenter: Lucia Vale.

It did not say she had developed the system. It did not need to. For anyone seeing the project for the first time, her name now stood beside it.

Lucia stepped down from the stage and came toward us with my speech draft still in her hand. The revision timestamp in the footer had not even been removed.

“Ms. Reed,” she said, low enough to sound cautious and loud enough for the people nearby to hear, “thank you for giving me this chance. I know how important this project is to you.”

Then she added, “I only wanted to take some pressure off Adrian. If you’re upset, I can explain to everyone later.”

Adrian answered before I could. “No need. The launch is over.”

Lucia lowered her eyes, fingers tightening around the draft.

“I just don’t want Elena to think I stole something from her.”