BEYOND THE BOARDROOM

CHAPTER TWO

The countryside stretched as far as the eye could see in front of Elena as the car lurched down the narrow road. New York's massive skyscrapers were no longer present, instead giving way to vast fields, extensive forests, and occasional charming farmhouses. The farther they traveled, the more isolated she felt. There was something strange about being alone, however, as the peace of the countryside seemed to whisper something that she couldn't make anything of.

Ravenwood Estate had been a puzzle to her since learning she had inherited the property. The legal documents had been thorough, but cold, revealing little beyond the fact that her late grandmother had left her the property. Eleanor Kensington had always been an enigmatic figure in the family, and Elena’s father had spoken of her only in vague terms. The notion that her grandmother had a big property miles away in the wilderness was absurd.

Ma’am, we're almost out already," the driver explained, looking over at her in the rearview mirror.

Elena nodded, looking out the window as the scenery moved on. The road became shorter, and the bushes became more dense, and their leaves made a cover that blocked the afternoon sun. The air felt cooler, almost foreboding, and a sense of unease crept over her.

When, at last, the taxi pulled up outside the gates of the mansion, their breath caught in Elena's chest. The gates were tarnished and contorted, and "K" formed in the middle in a beautifully intricate design, an expressionless tombstone of their dynastic lineage. Exiting the gates of the house, the estate loomed in breathtaking profile, more and more, over the shadowed miniature gardens.

“This is it,” the driver said, his voice low. “Ravenwood Estate.”

Elena hesitated before stepping out of the car. Her heels hit gravel even as she drew near the gates, and her heart beat hard. She pried them open with a strain and their hinges whimpered complaints of their age.

The property was stunning, but not the usual way. Its beauty lay in its mystery. The stone wall of the house was weathered, ivy creeping up the masonry like nature reclaiming the house. The windows were high and arched with panes of glass tarnished and scratched. The door, a large oak, bore the workmanship of carved patterns of intricate designs, which appeared to weave a tale that she couldn't decipher yet.

The driver got out of the car and discharged her luggage, giving her a brief nod and then driving off. The sound of the taxi’s engine faded, leaving Elena alone with the estate and the uneasy silence that surrounded it.

By having a great deal of courage, she climbed the stone steps and got through the immense door. It creaked loudly, echoing through the cavernous interior.

The air inside was refreshingly cool and dense, smelling with a weak undercurrent of timber and damp stone. Dust motes danced in the light streaming through the cracked windows, revealing a grand foyer with a sweeping staircase and chandeliers that had long since lost their luster.

“Elena Kensington, I presume?”

The deep voice startled her, and she spun around to see a man standing in the shadows. He continued to walk, and the light revealed a tall, broad-shouldered, dark-haired man with blue, deeply-set eyes. His clothing was sensible yet trod upon, there was a guarded quality in his appearance that immediately warned Elena.

“Yes, I’m Elena, she replied, her voice steady despite the nervous flutter in her chest. “And you are?”

“Daniel Hart,” he said simply. “Caretaker of Ravenwood.”

Caretaker? Elena never thought that someone would be in this place, let alone a man like this. “I wasn’t aware the estate had a caretaker, she said, studying him closely.

“Your grandmother hired me years ago, Daniel replied, his tone curt. “She trusted me to look after the estate, and I intend to honor that trust.

Elena crossed her arms. Right, I suppose that puts two of us, as it now all belongs to me.

Daniel's eyes contracted a little, but he did not speak, a look on his face uninterpretable.

Show me the ropes," she said, deciding to take charge.

Daniel hesitated before nodding. “Follow me.”

He took her by the hand through the grand corridors, his presence echoing off the wood floor. The house was enormous, and each room was more mysterious than the last. There was a library, bookcases crammed to the rafters with books, many of them with books still on the shelves even though they looked to be hundreds of years old. The dining hall possessed a large, dusty table and a chandelier that gently wobbled, appearing to be acted upon by some unseen agency.

“There’s a lot of history here, Daniel said, breaking the silence. “Your grandmother was a remarkable woman.”

Elena glanced at him. “What do you mean?”

“She believed in preserving the legacy of Ravenwood, he replied, his voice softening. “She spent years documenting its history, uncovering its secrets.”

“Secrets?” Elena asked, her curiosity piqued.

Daniel’s jaw tightened. “You’ll see for yourself soon enough.”

They continued the tour, but Elena’s mind lingered on his words. What secrets could this estate possibly hold? However, why did her grandmother bequeath it to her, of anybody?

Upon Tour's completion, Daniel took her into a room on the second floor. It was a room with high windows where one could see the overgrown garden. One, of a set of 4 posts draped across the room and the remaining furniture, was forlorn but lovely in a grand, beautiful way.

This will be your room, Daniel said, emotionlessly. “If you need anything, I’ll be in the caretaker’s quarters.

Thank you," Elena said, but she still felt uncomfortable near him.

When Daniel went, she put her cases on the floor and rolled herself to the bed, and tiredness came to sink in. The day had been overwhelming, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had stepped into a different world—a world where nothing was as it seemed.

Lying in the bed, her field of vision shifted to the bedside table. One with a leather journal case open, and journals/paper inside lay open on top of it, with the label "E.K.

Her grandmother’s journal.

Elena paused then took it, her hands shaking. She checked the first page, her pulse quickening as she read the script, written out in script in elegant handwriting: .

“To my dearest Elena,

If you’re reading this, it means you’ve found your way to Ravenwood. This house is more than just a house—it's the key to the secrets that I can't confess to you when I was living. Trust your instincts, and trust those who earn it. Above all, remember that Ravenwood was meant for you.

With love,

Eleanor Kensington”

Elena closed the journal, her mind racing. That property was not just a relic—it was a puzzle,

and her grandmother had left her the pieces.

Her journey was only beginning.