The Truth in the Ashes
1029 Words
Chapter 5
POV: Stephanie
"Steve?" I said again. My voice sounded small in the silent room. "Tell her she's lying."
But Steve just stood there, his face was blank. Like he didn't even know me.
Elena laughed. It was a beautiful, terrible sound. "Oh, darling. He can't tell me I'm lying because I'm not." She reached into her small purse and pulled out papers. "Here. Marriage certificate. Signed three years ago in Monaco."
She handed the papers to Marcus, who looked at them carefully. His face was serious. "These look real, Steve. The signatures, the seal, everything."
"Let me see those," I said, reaching for the papers.
Marcus handed them to me. I stared at the fancy document. Steve's signature was at the bottom, clear as day. Next to Elena's name.
My hands started shaking. This couldn't be real. It couldn't be.
"Steve," I whispered. "Say something."
Finally, he spoke. His voice was cold and hard. "Elena, we need to talk. Privately."
"Of course, darling." Elena smiled at me. "Excuse us, won't you? Husband and wife have much to discuss."
They left the room together. I stood there, feeling like the floor was falling away beneath my feet.
Marcus touched my shoulder gently. "I'm sorry, Stephanie. I didn't know about this. I thought she was still in Singapore."
"He's married," I said numbly. "He brought me here, and he's married."
"Maybe there's an explanation—"
"Like what?" I turned to face him. "She has papers, Marcus. Official papers."
Marcus sighed. "Let me take you to your room. You need to rest."
I didn't argue. I let him lead me back upstairs. At my door, he squeezed my hand.
"Don't judge Steve too harshly yet," he said. "Wait until you hear his side."
But I didn't want to hear Steve's side. I'd heard enough lies for one lifetime.
I went into my room and locked the door. Then I sat on the bed and stared at the wall. This was Jake all over again. Another man, another lie, and another humiliation.
An hour later, someone knocked on my door.
"Stephanie." It was Steve's voice. "Please. Let me explain."
"Go away," I said.
"She's lying. Elena and I were engaged years ago, but we never got married. She disappeared after we fought with my family. Those papers are fake."
"Marcus said they looked real."
"Marcus doesn't know everything." His voice was frustrated. "Please, Stephanie. Open the door."
"No. I'm done being anyone's fool."
There was a long silence. Then I heard his footsteps walking away.
I lay down on the bed, but I couldn't sleep. My mind kept spinning. Steve was married, or he wasn't. Elena had papers, or they were fake. I didn't know what to believe anymore.
Around midnight, I gave up trying to sleep. I got up and put on a robe. Maybe walking around would help clear my head.
The mansion was dark and quiet. I wandered through hallways, past closed doors and paintings of dead Savages. This place felt like a museum, not a home.
I turned a corner and found myself in a part of the house I hadn't seen before. The hallway was narrower here. Older. At the end was a door that looked different from the others. It was made of dark wood and had a strange lock.
I tried the handle. To my surprise, it opened.
Inside was a small room filled with boxes and old furniture. Dust covered everything. It looked like no one had been here in years.
I was about to leave when I saw something that made me freeze. On the wall was a framed blueprint. And at the bottom, in faded ink, was my father's signature.
My heart started pounding. I moved closer. The blueprint showed designs for some kind of technology. Computer systems, maybe. And my father's name was all over it.
I started opening boxes. They were full of papers. Patents, contracts, and business documents. And every single one had my father's name on it.
"What is this?" I whispered.
I dug deeper. At the bottom of one box, I found a folder marked "Savage Group - Founding Documents." Inside were papers showing that my father and someone named James Savage had started the company together. They were equal partners.
My father had been a co-founder of the Savage Group. Not an employee and not a worker. A founder.
And Steve had never told me.
I kept searching. At the bottom of another box, I found a photograph. It showed a young boy, maybe sixteen years old, standing next to my father. They were both smiling. My father had his arm around the boy's shoulders.
The boy was Steve. I recognized his face, even though he was younger.
And on Steve's hand, clearly visible in the photo, was a fresh burn scar.
My breath caught. I lifted my hand and touched the photo. That scar. I knew that scar.
Twenty years ago, when I was eight, our barn caught fire. I was trapped inside. Someone pulled me out. A teenage boy with kind eyes. I remembered his burned hand as he carried me to safety.
"Steve," I whispered. "It was you."
He'd saved my life. He'd known my father. He'd been keeping all of this safe.
Why hadn't he told me?
Behind me, the door creaked open.
I spun around. Marcus stood in the doorway, blocking my only exit. His friendly smile was gone. His face looked cold and hard.
"You shouldn't be in here, Stephanie," he said quietly. He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. "This room has been locked for fifteen years."
"How did you know I was here?" I asked.
"Security cameras. I see everything that happens in this house." He moved closer. "Only three people have the key to this room: Steve, me... and the person my brother loved most in this world."
He looked at the photograph in my hands. His expression darkened.
"Now I'm wondering," he said softly. "Are you just another gold digger looking for money?" He took another step toward me. "Or are you the ghost that's going to destroy us all?"
- Writer
