4 THE VOICE FROM THE DARK
1617 Words
“Did you really believe I was dead?”
The voice echoed through the study.
Lucian couldn't move.
For seven years, he had imagined hearing those words.
In dreams.
In nightmares.
In moments when memories became too painful to ignore.
But never like this.
Never in his father's study.
Never with his mother's voice coming from the darkness.
“Mother...?”
The word escaped his lips before he could stop it.
The figure standing in the doorway didn't answer immediately.
She remained hidden beneath the shadows of the corridor.
Victor Vale stood frozen behind Lucian.
His face had lost every trace of color.
“That's impossible,” Victor whispered.
The woman stepped forward.
The dim emergency light touched the edge of her face.
Lucian's heart slammed against his chest.
Older.
Changed.
But those eyes...
He knew those eyes.
His mother.
Elena Vale.
She slowly removed the black hood covering her head.
Lucian stared.
Seven years disappeared in an instant.
He remembered a woman who used to wait for him after school.
A woman who would pretend to be angry whenever he came home late.
A woman who always knew when he was hiding something.
A woman who had once promised him—
I'll always come back.
Then came the fire.
The funeral.
The silence.
The years without her.
Lucian took a slow step forward.
“Is it really you?”
Elena's eyes softened.
“Lucian.”
He stopped.
Hearing his name from her lips broke something inside him.
He wanted to run toward her.
He wanted to demand answers.
He wanted to ask where she had been.
Instead, he simply stood there.
Victor finally spoke.
“Elena...”
She looked at him.
The warmth disappeared from her expression.
“Don't.”
One word.
Victor fell silent.
Lucian noticed.
His father had always been a powerful man.
People feared him.
Businessmen respected him.
Politicians listened to him.
But right now, Victor looked like a man who had just seen a ghost.
Lucian turned toward him.
“You knew.”
Victor said nothing.
“You knew she was alive.”
“I suspected.”
“Don't lie to me.”
Lucian's voice echoed through the room.
“You just told me you spent seven years trying to find her.”
Elena looked at Victor.
“Did he?”
Victor's jaw tightened.
“I protected you.”
Elena laughed bitterly.
“By letting our son believe his mother was dead?”
Lucian stared between them.
“What happened?”
Neither answered.
“Seven years.”
His voice cracked slightly.
“Seven years, and both of you are standing here talking like I don't deserve an explanation.”
Elena looked at him.
“You deserve the truth.”
“Then tell me.”
She hesitated.
“Not here.”
Lucian frowned.
“Why?”
“Because we're not alone.”
The room became silent.
Victor immediately reached for his phone.
“What do you mean?”
Elena looked toward the window.
“Someone followed me.”
Victor's expression changed.
“How many?”
“I don't know.”
“Then how did you get inside?”
“I had help.”
Lucian stepped closer.
“Who?”
Elena looked at him.
“That is the question you should be asking yourself.”
Before Lucian could respond—
A loud sound came from downstairs.
CRASH!
Everyone froze.
Victor immediately moved toward the door.
Lucian followed.
Elena grabbed his arm.
“No.”
He looked at her.
“Let go.”
“You don't understand.”
“Then explain.”
Her eyes filled with something Lucian couldn't identify.
Fear.
Real fear.
“Your life is already in danger.”
Lucian stared at her.
“My life has been in danger before.”
“Not like this.”
Another sound came from downstairs.
Footsteps.
Someone was moving through the mansion.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Victor locked the study door.
“Security?”
“Gone,” Elena whispered.
Lucian looked at her.
“What?”
“The guards.”
She looked toward the door.
“They're not coming.”
Silence.
Then someone knocked.
Three times.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Nobody moved.
Another three knocks.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Lucian looked at his father.
Victor shook his head.
Don't open it.
The handle moved.
Slowly.
Someone tried the door.
Elena stepped closer to Lucian.
Then—
A voice came from the other side.
“Mr. Vale.”
Lucian recognized it.
One of the family's security officers.
Victor looked relieved.
“Open it.”
Elena immediately grabbed his wrist.
“No.”
Victor stared at her.
“How do you know—”
“Because your security officers don't call you Mr. Vale.”
Victor froze.
The voice outside spoke again.
“Sir, please open the door.”
Lucian's expression hardened.
He understood.
It wasn't one of their men.
Someone had gotten inside.
Someone who knew exactly how to imitate them.
Then the door suddenly stopped moving.
Silence.
Lucian slowly approached the bookshelf.
His hand reached behind it.
A hidden compartment opened.
Inside was a small handgun.
He took it.
Elena's eyes widened.
“You still keep that?”
“I learned from you.”
For the first time, a faint smile touched her lips.
Then it disappeared.
The footsteps outside moved away.
Lucian waited.
One second.
Two.
Three.
Then—
BANG!
The study window shattered.
Lucian pulled Elena down.
Glass scattered across the floor.
Victor dropped behind the desk.
A shadow moved outside.
Lucian rushed toward the window.
Nothing.
Whoever had been there was gone.
But something had been left behind.
A black envelope.
Lucian picked it up.
His name was written across it.
He opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
Not of his mother.
Not of his father.
Of Anastasia.
Lucian stared.
On the back were five words.
SHE KNOWS MORE THAN SHE SAYS.
His expression darkened.
Meanwhile...
Anastasia sat in the back of a black car.
The city lights passed across the windows.
Her expression was no longer playful.
The mask from the party lay beside her.
So did the photograph she had taken.
She looked at it again.
Young Lucian.
His mother.
The old house.
Seven years ago.
Anastasia slowly closed her eyes.
“Why did it have to be him?”
The driver glanced at her through the mirror.
“You recognized the woman?”
Anastasia didn't answer.
“Miss?”
She opened her eyes.
“Yes.”
“Should we continue with the plan?”
Anastasia looked down at the photograph.
“No.”
The driver frowned.
“No?”
“Change everything.”
“But your father—”
“My father doesn't know everything.”
The driver fell silent.
Anastasia leaned back.
For the first time that night, the confident mask she had worn at the party disappeared completely.
She wasn't a gold digger.
She hadn't approached Lucian because of his money.
She had approached him because of a name.
A name her family had spent years avoiding.
Vale.
Her fingers tightened around the photograph.
Seven years ago, something had happened between the Vale family and hers.
Something that had never been made public.
Something her father had forbidden her to ask about.
And tonight, after seeing Lucian for the first time...
she knew the truth was finally beginning to surface.
Her phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
One message.
YOU'RE GETTING TOO CLOSE.
Anastasia stared at it.
Another message appeared.
STOP BEFORE HE REMEMBERS.
Her eyes widened.
“Before he remembers...?”
She looked out the window.
For the first time, she wondered whether Lucian had forgotten something important.
Something connected to her.
Something from seven years ago.
Back at the Vale mansion...
Lucian returned to the study.
His mother was standing beside the window.
He placed the photograph on the desk.
“Who is she?”
Elena looked down.
“Anastasia.”
“You know her?”
“Yes.”
Lucian's eyes narrowed.
“How?”
Elena didn't answer.
“Mother.”
Silence.
“Tell me.”
She slowly turned toward him.
“Her family was there that night.”
Lucian's breathing stopped.
“What night?”
“The night of the fire.”
Everything became silent.
Lucian stared at her.
“Her family?”
Elena nodded.
“They know what happened.”
“Then why did Anastasia approach me tonight?”
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
Elena looked at him.
“You've become very good at recognizing lies.”
“Because I've been surrounded by them.”
Victor stepped forward.
“Enough.”
Lucian turned toward him.
“No.”
His voice was firm.
“Not anymore.”
He picked up the photograph.
“I'm going to find out what happened seven years ago.”
Victor's face tightened.
“You don't know what you're dealing with.”
“Then tell me.”
Victor remained silent.
Lucian smiled bitterly.
“That's what I thought.”
He walked toward the door.
Elena suddenly called his name.
“Lucian.”
He stopped.
She looked at him.
“There is one thing you must understand.”
He turned.
“If Anastasia really is connected to what happened seven years ago...”
She paused.
“Then meeting her tonight was not an accident.”
Lucian stared at his mother.
“What are you saying?”
Elena's eyes darkened.
“Someone wanted you to meet her.”
Lucian looked at the photograph again.
Anastasia's smiling face stared back at him.
For the first time, he wondered whether their meeting had ever been a coincidence.
And somewhere across the city...
Anastasia received one final message.
HE'S STARTING TO REMEMBER.
She stared at the screen.
Then slowly whispered—
“Too soon.”
TO BE CONTINUED...
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