Chapter 4 CHAPTER 4: The Missing Trace

Julian’s face hardened instantly. The vein in his neck tensed as he looked at Sarahh with a gaze that could have killed. The door to unit 401 still stood wide open behind her.

“None of your business, Sarahh. Get inside, now,” Julian growled, his voice low and threatening.

Sarahh only laughed, a sound dripping with mockery. She leaned casually against the doorframe, completely unfazed by his anger. “Why so hostile? I was just asking. Don’t we have work soon? You know, the new goods are already waiting at the warehouse.”

Julian glanced at me briefly. There was a flicker of unease in his eyes, as if he feared I had heard too much. He took a slow breath, his shoulders heavy, as though an invisible weight pressed down on them.

Suddenly, the phone in his suit pocket vibrated. He pulled it out at once, checked the screen, and his expression sharpened. Without a word, he answered the call and walked toward the end of the hallway, turning his back on us.

I felt like this was my chance. I quickly reached into my bag, searching for the key to unit 402. But before I could slide it into the lock, a hand with long red nails grabbed my wrist.

“Wait a second, pretty,” Sarahh said. She was suddenly very close. The scent of alcohol and strong perfume clung to her. “How do you know Julian?”

“I know him because he’s helped me a few times,” I replied honestly, trying to pull my hand free.

Sarahh burst into laughter, as if I had just told the funniest joke in the world. “Helped you? Julian Moretti helping an innocent girl like you?” she said between laughs. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

Just as suddenly, her laughter stopped. She looked me over from head to toe. The playful expression on her face vanished, replaced by something cold and flat. She leaned in close to my ear.

“Listen carefully. I’m warning you to stay away from Julian. Before you become his next victim,” she whispered, each word deliberate.

Without waiting for my reaction, Sarahh released my wrist and walked back into Julian’s apartment, slamming the door shut behind her.

At the same time, Julian returned from the end of the hallway. He looked calmer now, even offering me a faint smile. But Sarahh’s warning echoed in my mind. His next victim?

Panic crept in. My hands trembled as I tried to insert the key, but I fumbled, dropping several bags filled with my painting supplies onto the corridor floor.

“Let me help,” Julian said, immediately crouching down to gather the scattered paint tubes and brushes.

“No, it’s fine, Julian. I can handle it,” I said quickly, trying to take them from his hands.

“Don’t be stubborn.” He ignored my protest. He picked up the bags and followed me inside once I managed to open the door.

I froze. “Julian, you don’t need to come in!”

He ignored me again. He walked into the main area and placed the bags on the marble counter. Then he stopped. His eyes locked onto a sheet of white paper lying on the table, a pencil sketch of a woman’s face I had drawn the night before.

Julian’s expression changed instantly. He looked like he had just seen a ghost.

“Julian? Can you leave now? I want to start painting so I can sell something,” I said, trying to usher him out gently.

He didn’t move. He pointed at the sketch, his hand slightly rigid. “Who is this woman?” His voice came out hoarse.

“My older sister,” I answered hesitantly. “The real reason I came to New York is to find her. She disappeared three years ago.”

Julian said nothing. He looked at me with an unreadable expression, something between shock and what seemed like guilt. Then he turned and walked out of my apartment without another word.

The moment the door shut, I locked it twice and slid the latch into place. I sank onto the sofa, clutching the sketch of my sister.

My mind drifted back to three years ago, to the porch of our small house on the outskirts of town.

“Evelyn, promise me you’ll take care of Grandma, okay?” Felicia Vance wore her favorite denim jacket, ready to leave for the airport.

“Why do you have to go to New York? You could go to college here,” I said, hugging her tightly, my tears already soaking her shoulder.

Felicia smiled softly and stroked my hair. “It’s the best university, Evelyn. Opportunities like this scholarship don’t come twice. I’ll work hard, and then I’ll come back for you and Grandma. We’ll live in a luxury apartment in Manhattan.”

That was our last conversation. For the first few months, she sent letters and called regularly. But one night, her phone stopped working. Grandma fell ill from worrying about her. When I called the university, their answer shattered my world.

“Miss Vance, your sister hasn’t been seen on campus for the past two weeks. We assumed she withdrew on her own.”

The police found nothing. Felicia had vanished into the vastness of New York.

I was jolted back to the present by a loud commotion outside my door. Shouts, followed by the heavy thud of something slamming against the corridor wall.

Curiosity and fear battled inside me. I leaned toward the peephole and looked outside.

My heart nearly stopped.

In the dim hallway, Julian was beating three men dressed in black. His movements were fast, brutal. He slammed one man’s head into the wall, blood splattering onto the floor.

In the corner, Sarahh stood casually, holding a cigar, thin smoke curling into the air. She watched the fight like it was some kind of entertainment.

Julian grabbed the collar of the last man, who was already battered, and slammed him against the wall right beside my door.

“Where is she?!” Julian roared, his voice thunderous with rage. “I know you handled the last shipment to the port! Tell me, where is Felicia Vance?!”

My breath caught in my throat. Felicia Vance? My sister’s name?

My hand gripped the doorknob. I wanted to open it, to demand how he knew that name. But Sarahh’s warning echoed in my mind.

Was Julian searching for my sister to help me, or was he the reason she had disappeared three years ago?

“Julian, control yourself,” Sarahh’s lazy voice drifted from the corner. “Saying her name won’t bring her back to you.”

Julian released the man, letting him collapse to the floor. Then he turned his head, looking straight at my door, as if he knew I was watching from behind it.

“I will find her, Sarahh. Even if I have to burn all of New York to the ground to do it.”