THE BILLIONAIRE'S SECRET OBSESSION

The Photograph

Chapter 8 :

I couldn't sleep.

Lucien's mansion was too quiet.

Not peaceful.

Quiet.

The kind of silence that made every tiny sound feel important.

I lay beneath the unfamiliar sheets, staring at the ceiling while the events of the past few days replayed in my mind.

Lucien.

His strange behavior.

The way he always seemed to know what I needed before I said anything.

The way his eyes followed me whenever he thought I wasn't looking.

And the locked wing.

I had asked Mirelle about it earlier.

She'd gone strangely quiet.

"Some parts of this house aren't for guests."

That answer had only made me more curious.

I threw the blanket aside.

"Fine."

I slipped into my robe and stepped into the hallway.

The mansion was dark.

Moonlight spilled through the enormous windows, painting silver rectangles across the marble floor.

I walked quietly.

The locked wing was at the far end of the second floor.

I had noticed it earlier that evening.

There was something different about that corridor.

No paintings.

No furniture.

No decoration.

Just a single dark wooden door.

And tonight—

it was open.

My heart skipped.

I looked around.

"Lucien?"

No answer.

I slowly approached.

The room beyond was dim.

Dust covered almost everything.

It didn't look like the rest of the mansion.

This place felt forgotten.

Or deliberately hidden.

I stepped inside.

There were boxes stacked against the walls.

Old documents.

Photographs.

Books.

My curiosity won.

I moved toward a large wooden table.

A layer of dust covered its surface.

Then I saw something that made my breath catch.

A photograph.

I picked it up.

My fingers immediately began trembling.

There was no mistaking him.

The man standing on the left was my father.

Adrian Seraphine.

He looked younger than I remembered.

Beside him stood another man.

A man I didn't recognize.

Between them sat a small black velvet case.

I opened my mouth to speak.

Then I noticed the third person in the photograph.

A much younger Lucien.

My heart stopped.

"Why would you have this?"

I turned the photograph over.

There was writing on the back.

My father's handwriting.

I knew it immediately.

Only three words had been written.

THE NOCTURNE HEART.

My stomach twisted.

I stared at the photograph.

The black velvet case.

The mysterious man.

My father.

And Lucien.

What had they been involved in?

A floorboard creaked behind me.

I spun around.

Lucien stood in the doorway.

His expression had completely changed.

All the warmth I'd seen in his eyes earlier was gone.

His gaze was fixed on the photograph in my hand.

"Where did you get that?"

His voice was dangerously quiet.

I held it tighter.

"It was here."

"Give it to me."

"No."

His jaw tightened.

"Elara."

"You know my father."

It wasn't a question.

Lucien said nothing.

"You knew him."

Still nothing.

My heart began pounding.

"How?"

He stepped into the room.

I stepped backward.

"Seven years," I whispered.

His eyes flickered.

"You've been hiding something from me for seven years, haven't you?"

His expression hardened.

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Then tell me."

"Not tonight."

"Why?"

"Because you're not ready."

I laughed bitterly.

"That's not your decision."

Lucien's eyes darkened.

"No. But keeping you alive is."

The words silenced me.

"Alive?"

I stared at him.

"What happened to my father?"

Lucien looked away.

For the first time, I saw something beneath his cold exterior.

Pain.

Regret.

Maybe even guilt.

I stepped closer.

"Lucien."

His eyes returned to mine.

"What happened seven years ago?"

He didn't answer.

I looked back at the photograph.

At my father.

At the strange man beside him.

At the black velvet case.

Then I noticed something I'd missed before.

The man standing beside my father was wearing a ring.

A distinctive silver ring engraved with a serpent.

My stomach dropped.

I'd seen that symbol before.

On the documents connected to my father's disappearance.

I looked at Lucien.

"You know who that man is."

His silence confirmed it.

"Who is he?"

Lucien's face became unreadable.

"Someone you should stay away from."

"Why?"

"Because he's dangerous."

"Who is he?"

Lucien took the photograph from my hands.

I didn't stop him.

He stared at it for several seconds.

Then his eyes met mine.

"Your father wasn't the man you thought he was."

My blood ran cold.

"What does that mean?"

Lucien turned away.

"I'll tell you everything."

He paused at the doorway.

"When the time is right."

Then he walked away.

I remained frozen in the locked room.

My eyes drifted back to the empty table.

There had been something beneath the photograph.

A small envelope.

I picked it up.

My name was written across the front.

ELARA.

My heart began pounding.

I looked toward the doorway.

Lucien was gone.

Slowly, I opened the envelope.

Inside was a single piece of paper.

Six words were written in my father's handwriting.

Ask your mother about Lucien.

My breath caught.

My mother had been dead for fourteen years.

There was no one left to ask.

Unless—

I looked toward the door Lucien had disappeared through.

Maybe my mother had left me something else.

Something Lucien had been hiding.

And suddenly, I understood.

The secrets surrounding my father weren't buried seven years ago.

They had been waiting for me to find them.