10: The Ghost File
921 Words
The storm outside hadn’t stopped all night.
Lightning slashed through the windows, and thunder rolled over the city like an angry god.
Amara sat awake, heart restless, mind replaying every word Sebastian had said.
“You don’t know what these people are capable of.”
“They erase anyone who stands in their way.”
“You’re not the first person they’ve tried to destroy.”
She wanted to dismiss it as paranoia — another power play.
But something about the way he’d said it, the flicker of pain behind his eyes, told her he wasn’t lying.
And now she couldn’t stop wondering: What else is he hiding?
⸻
By morning, Sebastian was gone.
His assistant, a tall woman named Celine, arrived at the door with a calm smile and a list of Amara’s new “duties” as Mrs. Cruz.
Public appearances. Press interviews. Scheduled charity events.
Amara barely listened. Her thoughts were elsewhere.
When Celine left, Amara wandered through the mansion — the vast, glass-walled fortress perched on a cliff above the sea. Every corner was immaculate, curated, distant.
Like the man who lived there.
But then she found his study.
It wasn’t grand like she expected. No lavish chandeliers or gold decor. Just dark oak, bookshelves lined with history and finance, and a desk that screamed of discipline.
Her curiosity got the better of her.
She stepped inside.
On the desk sat an open notebook — precise handwriting, half-finished notes about “Cruz Holdings shares,” “corruption chain,” and “media control.”
But one thing drew her attention: a locked drawer. Heavy, metal, marked with the faint letters V.A. scratched near the edge.
She hesitated only a moment before pulling a bobby pin from her hair.
“This is insane,” she whispered — then picked the lock.
It clicked open.
Inside was a single black folder.
No label. No title. Just her name written neatly in the corner.
Amara Velasquez.
Her blood ran cold.
She opened it — and the world tilted.
⸻
The file contained documents she’d never seen before.
Medical records. Adoption papers. Old photographs.
A faded picture of a woman who looked hauntingly familiar — the same sharp jawline, the same eyes.
Beneath it, a name: Veronica Alonzo-Cruz.
And below that — Mother: Veronica Alonzo-Cruz. Father: Eduardo Cruz.
Her throat went dry. “No,” she whispered. “No, that can’t be—”
But there it was — official, signed, dated twenty-five years ago.
A birth record that named her as Amara Alonzo Cruz.
Her mind spun.
Her real father… Darian’s father?
Her ex-fiancé’s father?
She staggered back, gripping the desk. “Oh my God…”
That meant Darian had tried to marry his own half-sister.
And Sebastian…
He knew.
A wave of betrayal crashed over her, heavier than any storm. He’d known all along — from the moment he walked into her clinic, from the moment he offered her that deal.
And he hadn’t said a word.
⸻
The door opened behind her.
Sebastian stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable.
“You shouldn’t be in here.”
Amara whirled on him, fury and disbelief colliding. “You knew.”
He said nothing.
“You knew who I was. You knew what this meant. You knew everything!” She shoved the folder at him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He stepped forward slowly, his tone quiet. “Because I needed you to see it for yourself.”
Her voice cracked. “You let me live a lie!”
“I protected you from one,” he said sharply. “Eduardo buried those records. He erased you. If anyone else found out, they would’ve silenced you, Amara. Just like they silenced my mother.”
Her chest heaved. “You think that makes this okay? You let me marry you while I was still grieving, still confused—and you kept this from me?”
“It wasn’t the right time.”
“There’s never a right time for betrayal!”
The words echoed through the study, trembling with anger and heartbreak.
Sebastian’s face tightened — not with guilt, but pain. “I didn’t betray you. I saved you.”
She laughed bitterly. “From what? The truth?”
He stepped closer, voice low, controlled. “From a life they would’ve stolen. You’re not a pawn in their empire, Amara. You’re their greatest threat.”
Her hands shook as she backed away. “I don’t even know who I am anymore.”
“You’re the only Cruz who matters,” he said softly. “The only one who isn’t rotten.”
She looked up at him — eyes shining with tears. “And what about you, Sebastian? What does that make you?”
He hesitated. Then, quietly: “The man who’ll make sure they never touch you again.”
⸻
She stared at him for a long moment, torn between fury and something she didn’t want to name.
Then she pushed past him, clutching the folder like a wound she couldn’t close.
“Don’t follow me,” she said, her voice breaking. “Not this time.”
Sebastian watched her walk away, his hands clenched at his sides — the mask slipping just enough to show regret.
He’d protected her from the truth for too long.
And now that she knew, he could already feel the walls beginning to crumble.
Outside, thunder roared once more — but this time, it wasn’t the storm that frightened him.
It was her.
- Writer
