CHAPTER.FOUR
727 Words
ARIANA'S POV
I spent three days doing nothing but research.
Three days that should have been spent cataloging manuscripts and translating ancient texts at the museum. Three days of calling in sick and lying to my boss about a stomach bug. Three days glued to my laptop searching for anything that could explain why a billionaire would know about my parents.
The questions spun through my mind constantly. At work when I finally dragged myself back. At home when I tried to sleep. In the middle of the night when I woke up from nightmares about fire and screaming and my parents' cold eyes.
I changed my mind about going at least twenty times. Maybe more. I lost count somewhere around Thursday afternoon when I decided for the fifteenth time that I'd ignore the invitation and stay safe in my small carefully constructed life.
Then I'd remember my parents' faces. Remember the ritual. Remember twelve years of questions that nobody would answer. And I'd change my mind again.
By Thursday night I still hadn't decided and I was running out of time. I stood in my apartment staring at the black card propped against my bedside lamp. The serpent symbol seemed to watch me.
Friday came too fast.
I woke up knowing I was going even though I hated myself for it.
I called in sick to work again. My boss sounded annoyed but didn't push it. Probably assumed I was still dealing with whatever stomach bug I'd invented earlier in the week.
I spent the day pacing my apartment and changing clothes.
Trying to figure out what you wore to meet a billionaire who might have answers about your parents' disappearance.
I settled on a simple black dress. The only remotely nice thing I owned.
At six thirty I left my apartment and headed to the train station to hop on a train heading north into the Hudson Valley.
At seven forty-five I was standing outside the address from the invitation wondering if I'd made the biggest mistake of my life.
The Valtieri Estate looked like something pulled straight from a horror movie.
Black stone that seemed to swallow light. Towers with narrow windows that looked like eyes watching everything. Gargoyles perched on corners.
I stood at the iron gate feeling very small and very stupid. This was insane. I should turn around right now. Should walk back to the train station. Should go home to my safe tiny apartment and forget this invitation ever arrived.
But my feet moved forward anyway like they had a mind of their own. Toward the gate.
Before I could reach it the gate swung open on its own. Silent and smooth like it had been waiting for me specifically.
A woman appeared from somewhere I couldn't see. She was tall and muscular in a way that said she could break me in half without trying. Wearing an expensive suit that didn't hide the fact that she was built like a wrestler.
She looked at me with eyes that had witnessed terrible things. Then after a long while she finally spoke.
"Miss Vale. I'm Elena, head of security. Please follow me."
She gestured for me to follow her through the gate without asking my name or checking any kind of list.
They'd been expecting me. Of course they had.
I wanted to ask questions. Wanted to demand to know what was happening and why I'd been invited and who these people were. But my voice wouldn't work properly.
So I just followed Elena up a long driveway lined with trees that blocked out what was left of the evening light. The mansion got bigger as we got closer.
Elena led me to massive front doors that opened before we reached them.
The entrance hall made my entire apartment look like a closet. Maybe smaller than a closet. Marble floors that gleamed like they'd been polished that morning.
Crystal chandeliers hanging from ceilings so high I couldn't see where they ended. A staircase that swept up to the second floor like something from a palace in a movie.
But what caught my attention and held it were the walls. Covered floor to ceiling in art. Paintings that looked old and expensive and probably belonged in museums.
This was real wealth. The kind I'd only ever seen in magazines or on TV.
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