EPISODE 3:Continuation
1140 Words
We drove for another twenty minutes.
Eventually, the city disappeared behind us.
The road became narrower.
Trees surrounded both sides.
I looked out the window.
“Where are we?”
“My house.”
I turned toward him.
“You're taking us to your house?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because it's secure.”
My mother spoke for the first time.
“Damian, are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Your security—”
“Is stronger than any police protection I can give her.”
I looked at my mother.
“You're worried about him.”
She didn't deny it.
The gates appeared ahead.
Huge black iron gates opened automatically as we approached.
Beyond them stood an enormous mansion.
Dark stone.
Tall windows.
Sharp architecture.
It looked less like a home and more like a fortress.
I stared at it.
Damian drove inside.
The gates closed behind us.
And something about the sound made my stomach twist.
It sounded final.
Like I had just crossed a line I couldn't uncross.
---
The moment the SUV stopped, several security guards approached.
Damian stepped out.
“Take Mrs. Vale inside.”
Two women immediately moved toward my mother.
She looked at me.
“I'll be fine.”
I nodded.
She disappeared through the front doors.
I remained beside the SUV.
Damian walked toward me.
“You're staying here tonight.”
I looked at him.
“No.”
His eyebrows lifted.
“No?”
“I need to find my father.”
“You're exhausted.”
“I don't care.”
“You haven't eaten.”
“I don't care.”
“You're still wearing a wedding dress.”
I looked down.
For the first time, I remembered.
The dress.
The veil.
The flowers.
The life I had thought I was going to have.
I swallowed.
“I don't care.”
Damian stepped closer.
“You should.”
I looked up at him.
“Why?”
“Because you're about to make decisions based on fear.”
“I have every reason to be afraid.”
“Yes.”
His voice was quiet.
“But fear will get you killed.”
I stared at him.
He reached into his pocket.
Then held out a phone.
“Use this.”
I didn't take it.
“Why?”
“Your phone may be compromised.”
I froze.
“What?”
“Someone may be tracking it.”
My fingers slowly closed around the phone.
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
“You don't know anything.”
His expression darkened.
“I know enough to keep you alive.”
“Then tell me one thing.”
“What?”
“Why me?”
He stared at me.
“You're Daniel Vale's daughter.”
“That's not enough.”
Silence.
I stepped closer.
“Why are you really protecting me?”
His face became unreadable.
Then he said:
“Because your father saved my life.”
I froze.
“What?”
Damian turned away.
“Get some rest.”
I grabbed his arm.
“Damian.”
He stopped.
“You said my father and your family ended badly.”
He looked down at my hand on his arm.
Then back at me.
“They did.”
“Then why would he save you?”
His eyes darkened.
“Because despite what happened between us, your father was a good man.”
I released him.
He walked away.
I watched him disappear into the house.
Something didn't add up.
My father had never mentioned Damian Blackwood.
Not once.
And yet Damian knew him.
He had protected him.
My father trusted him with my life.
And Damian had been watching me.
For how long?
I didn't know.
But I was going to find out.
---
That night, I couldn't sleep.
I stood by the enormous bedroom window, staring at the grounds below.
Security guards patrolled the property.
Cameras covered every entrance.
There was nowhere to escape.
My mother's room was down the hallway.
She had finally fallen asleep.
I should have done the same.
But I couldn't.
I kept thinking about the recording.
Elena must not know.
What didn't my father want me to know?
I walked toward the desk.
There was a laptop sitting on it.
I opened it.
The screen asked for a password.
I tried my birthday.
Nothing.
My father's birthday.
Nothing.
Our family name.
Nothing.
Then I remembered something.
My father had always told me:
*"When you don't know what door to open, look for the one nobody else notices."*
I frowned.
I looked around the room.
Then I noticed the painting above the desk.
It was slightly crooked.
I moved closer.
My fingers touched the frame.
It shifted.
Behind it was a small safe.
My heart began pounding.
A combination lock.
I tried my mother's birthday.
Nothing.
My father's.
Nothing.
Then—
I remembered something else.
A number my father had repeated to me when I was a child.
2713.
I entered it.
Click.
The safe opened.
Inside was a single black folder.
My hands trembled as I pulled it out.
On the front was one word.
BLACKWOOD.
I stopped breathing.
Why would my father have a file about Damian's family?
I opened it.
The first page contained a photograph.
Two young men stood beside each other.
One was my father.
The other—
I stared at the second man.
He was younger, but there was no mistaking him.
**Damian Blackwood's father.**
My fingers trembled as I turned the page.
A handwritten note was attached.
I read it once.
Then again.
My heart stopped.
Because beneath the names of both men was a date.
A date I knew very well.
The date my older brother had died.
I covered my mouth.
“No…”
A sound came from behind me.
I froze.
Someone was standing in the doorway.
I slowly turned.
Damian.
His eyes dropped to the folder in my hands.
His face changed.
For the first time since I had met him—
I saw genuine fear.
“Where did you get that?”
I couldn't speak.
He stepped into the room.
“Elena.”
I held the folder tighter.
“What happened to my brother?”
Damian stopped.
His silence was answer enough.
My heart shattered.
“You know.”
He said nothing.
“You know what happened to him.”
“Elena—”
“Tell me!”
My voice echoed through the room.
Damian stared at me.
Then he quietly closed the bedroom door behind him.
And when he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper.
“Your brother didn't die in an accident.”
I couldn't breathe.
“Then how did he die?”
Damian looked at the folder.
Then at me.
“Because of my family.”
TO BE CONTINUED...
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD