Seven Days Before My Wedding

Seven Days Before My Wedding - Chapter 4 — The Secret Archive

Chapter 4 — The Secret Archive

By eleven thirty that night, I was standing in front of a house I had spent years believing I would never enter.

Black Manor.

The home of the Black family.

The place where Nathan had grown up.

The place where his father, Richard Black, had built an empire.

And, according to Daniel, the place where the original police report concerning my parents' deaths had been hidden for years.

I stared at the enormous iron gates.

They looked exactly as I remembered them.

Tall.

Black.

Decorated with the Black family crest.

I had only been here twice in my previous life.

The first time had been shortly before my wedding.

The second had been the night I finally understood that Nathan wasn't the villain Adrian had convinced me he was.

That second visit had ended badly.

Very badly.

I looked at Nathan.

He was standing beside me, his hands in the pockets of his dark coat.

"Are you sure about this?"

He glanced at me.

"No."

I blinked.

"No?"

"I'm sure we need the report."

"But you're not sure about entering?"

"I'm sure we're trespassing."

Despite everything, I almost laughed.

"You could have mentioned that earlier."

"I thought you knew."

"I assumed rich people were allowed to trespass in their own houses."

"It's not my house."

I frowned.

"You grew up here."

"That doesn't mean my father gave me permission to enter."

"You're his son."

Nathan's expression darkened.

"That has never meant much to him."

The gate opened.

I looked at him.

"How?"

"Security code."

"You still know it?"

"I know every code my father has ever used."

"Why?"

"Because he taught me."

He paused.

"Before he decided I was his enemy."

I didn't ask more.

Not yet.

We drove up the long driveway.

The manor stood at the top of the hill.

Huge windows.

Gray stone walls.

Tall columns.

Every light on the first floor was off.

The entire house looked asleep.

But I knew better.

Places like this were never truly asleep.

There were always people watching.

Always secrets behind closed doors.

Always someone listening.

Nathan parked behind a row of trees.

"We go through the east entrance."

"Why?"

"The main security system is connected to the front hall."

"And the east entrance?"

"Older system."

"Can you disable it?"

He looked at me.

"I can."

"Then why haven't you?"

"I was waiting for you to stop asking questions."

I smiled.

"I won't."

"I know."

We walked through the darkness.

The cold night air brushed against my face.

Every step toward the house made my heartbeat faster.

Not because I was afraid of getting caught.

Because I was afraid of what we would find.

The truth about my parents had haunted me for three years.

I had spent countless nights asking myself the same questions.

Why had they died?

Why had their car left the road?

Why had the police ruled it an accident so quickly?

Why had Adrian always become uncomfortable whenever I mentioned it?

Why had Nathan tried so desperately to tell me something?

And why had my sister known more than she ever admitted?

Now I might finally get answers.

Nathan stopped.

"We're here."

I looked up.

A narrow side door was hidden beneath a stone archway.

He entered a code.

The lock clicked.

The door opened.

I followed him inside.

The air smelled old.

Dust.

Wood.

And something else.

Something cold.

The lights remained off.

Nathan pulled a small flashlight from his coat.

"We have about twenty minutes before the backup security system checks this section."

"Twenty minutes?"

"Maybe thirty."

"That's not enough."

"It will be."

He started walking.

I followed.

We moved through a narrow corridor.

Old portraits hung on the walls.

Generations of Black family members stared down at us.

I recognized Richard immediately.

Nathan's father.

He looked exactly as I remembered him.

Cold eyes.

Sharp features.

A smile that never reached his eyes.

I stopped.

Nathan noticed.

"What?"

"Your father."

He looked at the portrait.

"I don't like looking at him."

"Why?"

"Because he reminds me of everything I was supposed to become."

I studied him.

"And what did you become?"

Nathan looked at me.

"I don't know."

Then he walked on.

I followed.

The basement was colder.

Much colder.

Nathan opened another door.

Behind it was a staircase leading underground.

I stared down.

"You have got to be kidding."

"The archive is below."

"You keep a family archive underground?"

"My father keeps everything underground."

"That's reassuring."

He almost smiled.

We descended.

The walls became narrower.

The air heavier.

At the bottom was a steel door.

Nathan stopped.

"This is where it gets difficult."

"Why?"

"Because this door doesn't use a digital lock."

"What does it use?"

"A key."

He reached into his pocket.

I watched as he pulled out an old silver key.

He inserted it.

The lock clicked.

The steel door opened.

My breath caught.

The room beyond was enormous.

Shelves covered every wall.

Thousands of files.

Boxes.

Old ledgers.

Photographs.

Contracts.

Legal documents.

Everything the Black family had accumulated over decades.

I stared.

"This is insane."

Nathan entered.

"My father doesn't believe in destroying information."

"That's useful."

"Sometimes."

We walked between the shelves.

Nathan pulled out his phone.

"I know where the accident records should be."

"How?"

"I found them once."

I stopped.

"You've seen the report?"

"Yes."

"Then why didn't you tell me what it said?"

"Because I didn't know which version was real."

I frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"There were two reports."

My heart skipped.

"Two?"

"One official."

"And the other?"

"The original."

"Where is it?"

"That's what we're looking for."

He moved deeper into the archive.

I followed.

We passed shelves labeled:

Corporate

Legal

Private

Black Holdings

Carter Enterprises

I stopped.

"Carter Enterprises?"

Nathan looked back.

"Yes."

"Why would my family's records be here?"

"I told you."

"Our fathers were partners."

I pulled a box from the shelf.

It was covered in dust.

The label read:

CARTER-BLACK PARTNERSHIP — CONFIDENTIAL

I opened it.

Inside were old photographs.

Contracts.

Letters.

I picked up a photograph.

Two young men stood in front of a building.

My father.

Richard Black.

They were smiling.

They looked happy.

Friends.

Not enemies.

Not rivals.

Friends.

I turned the photograph over.

There was handwriting.

To the beginning of everything.

I swallowed.

"What's this?"

Nathan took it.

His expression changed.

"I've never seen this."

"You said you knew the archive."

"I know parts of it."

He examined the back.

"There may be more."

We searched the box.

Then I found a letter.

The handwriting was my father's.

I recognized it immediately.

Nathan leaned over.

"What does it say?"

I opened it.

The letter was dated twenty years earlier.

Richard,

I have transferred the documents you requested. But I still believe this is a mistake. We should reconsider the offshore accounts before someone notices.

I stared at the page.

Offshore accounts.

Nathan read over my shoulder.

"Keep going."

The next line made my stomach twist.

If anything happens to me or my family, the evidence is in the place we agreed upon.

I looked at Nathan.

"Your father knew."

"Apparently."

"Then my parents were afraid."

"Yes."

I continued reading.

The letter ended with:

I trust you as my friend. Don't make me regret it.

My fingers trembled.

"Your father betrayed mine."

Nathan didn't answer.

I looked at him.

"Didn't he?"

He nodded slowly.

"Probably."

"Then why were they still working together?"

"I don't know."

"Find out."

Nathan looked at me.

"I intend to."

We spent another fifteen minutes searching.

Nothing.

No original report.

No accident photographs.

No police records.

Then Nathan stopped.

I almost walked into him.

"What?"

He pointed to a shelf.

A small metal box was hidden behind several old files.

"What is that?"

"I don't know."

He pulled it out.

There was no label.

He opened it.

Inside were three envelopes.

One was addressed to Richard Black.

One to my father.

And one...

My heart stopped.

It was addressed to me.

Emma Carter.

I stared at my name.

The handwriting was unfamiliar.

Nathan looked at me.

"Do you know who wrote it?"

"No."

"Open it."

My fingers trembled as I broke the seal.

Inside was a single sheet of paper.

There were only four lines.

Emma,

If you're reading this, then something has gone wrong.

Do not trust the man you married.

And never let Elena find the blue ledger.

My blood froze.

Nathan stared at the letter.

"Who wrote that?"

"I don't know."

"When was it written?"

I turned the paper over.

A date was written on the bottom.

June 2 — three years ago.

Three weeks before my wedding.

My breathing became shallow.

Someone had known.

Someone had tried to warn me.

And somehow, the letter had never reached me.

"Emma."

Nathan's voice pulled me back.

"What?"

"Look."

He pointed inside the envelope.

There was something else.

A small photograph.

I picked it up.

My parents.

Standing beside a black car.

And beside them...

Elena.

My sister.

My blood ran cold.

"Why was she there?"

Nathan took the photograph.

"I don't know."

"She was there before their deaths."

"Apparently."

I stared at Elena's face.

She looked young.

Happy.

Like nothing was wrong.

I turned the photograph over.

There was another note.

She knows.

Only two words.

My heart pounded.

"She knows."

Nathan looked at me.

"Knows what?"

"I don't know."

"Then we'll find out."

I placed the photograph in my bag.

"We need the original report."

Nathan nodded.

He moved toward another shelf.

Then stopped.

His expression changed.

"What?"

He didn't answer.

I walked toward him.

He was staring at an empty space between two boxes.

"What is it?"

"This should be here."

"What?"

"The accident file."

"Maybe someone moved it."

"No."

He crouched.

He examined the shelf.

Then the floor.

"There are fresh marks."

"Someone recently moved it."

Nathan nodded.

"Yes."

"Who?"

He looked at me.

"I don't know."

Suddenly, we heard something upstairs.

A door closing.

We froze.

Nathan turned off the flashlight.

Darkness swallowed the room.

I could hear my own heartbeat.

Someone was inside the house.

Nathan grabbed my wrist.

"Don't move."

We stood silently.

Footsteps.

One.

Two.

Three.

Slow.

Someone was coming down the stairs.

My heart pounded against my ribs.

Nathan moved closer.

His hand covered mine.

"Stay behind me."

The footsteps stopped.

Silence.

Then a voice echoed through the corridor.

"Mr. Black?"

Nathan's eyes narrowed.

Security.

Someone had discovered us.

The footsteps started again.

Closer.

Nathan looked around the archive.

"There."

He pointed toward a narrow door behind the shelves.

"What is it?"

"Storage room."

"Can we hide there?"

"Maybe."

He pulled me toward it.

We slipped inside.

Nathan closed the door.

Darkness.

Complete darkness.

I could hear his breathing.

He was standing so close that I could feel the warmth from his body.

Outside, the archive door opened.

Light swept across the shelves.

A man's voice.

"Search everything."

Another voice answered.

"Yes, sir."

My heart stopped.

That voice.

I knew it.

I had heard it many times in my first life.

I leaned toward Nathan.

He looked at me.

I mouthed:

Adrian.

His expression hardened.

Adrian was here.

In the Black family archive.

Looking for something.

And he didn't know we were hiding inside.

Adrian walked between the shelves.

His footsteps were slow.

Controlled.

He was not worried.

That meant he had done this before.

He knew the archive.

He knew where things were.

He knew what he was looking for.

I pressed my hand against my mouth.

Nathan stood beside me.

His body was tense.

I could see anger in his eyes.

Adrian's voice echoed through the room.

"Did you find it?"

"No, sir."

"Search the lower shelves."

"We already did."

"Do it again."

I closed my eyes.

What was he looking for?

The original report?

The blue ledger?

The letter?

Or something else?

A drawer slammed.

Then another.

Adrian cursed.

"Someone has been here."

My blood ran cold.

He knew.

"They moved the files."

Nathan's hand tightened around mine.

I looked at him.

He shook his head.

Don't move.

Adrian continued.

"I want every document related to the Carter accident."

My heart stopped.

There it was.

The proof.

He was looking for the same thing.

The accident report.

"Search for the original."

A man answered.

"What if it's not here?"

"It is."

"How do you know?"

Adrian's voice became cold.

"Because I put it here."

My eyes widened.

Nathan looked at me.

Adrian had hidden the report himself.

But why?

A minute passed.

Then another.

The footsteps came closer.

Closer.

Until they stopped directly outside our door.

My heart nearly stopped.

The handle moved.

Nathan stepped in front of me.

The door opened.

Light flooded the room.

I held my breath.

But Adrian wasn't standing there.

A security guard stood outside.

"Nothing here, sir."

Adrian remained several feet away.

"Check again."

The guard looked inside.

His flashlight moved across the shelves.

It passed over Nathan.

Then me.

For one terrifying second, the light stopped.

I thought he had seen us.

Then it moved away.

"Nothing."

"Close it."

The door shut.

The footsteps moved away.

Nathan waited.

Ten seconds.

Twenty.

Thirty.

Then he whispered:

"Now."

We slipped out through the back of the storage room.

There was another door.

Nathan opened it.

It led to a narrow service corridor.

We ran.

We didn't stop until we reached the forest behind the manor.

Nathan leaned against a tree, breathing heavily.

I bent forward, trying to catch my breath.

After several seconds, I started laughing.

Nathan stared at me.

"What?"

"We almost got caught."

"That's not funny."

"I know."

I laughed again.

"It's just..."

"What?"

"I can't believe we just broke into your family's secret archive."

He shook his head.

"Technically, you broke in."

"You opened the door."

"Under protest."

I smiled.

Then my expression became serious.

"Adrian knew about the report."

Nathan nodded.

"And he hid it."

"Which means he knew the accident wasn't an accident."

"Yes."

I looked toward the manor.

"How much does he know?"

"Probably everything."

I swallowed.

"Then why hasn't he killed me yet?"

Nathan looked at me.

That question seemed to frighten him.

"Because he needs something."

"What?"

"We don't know."

"The company?"

"Maybe."

"My shares?"

"Possibly."

"Then why marry me?"

Nathan's expression changed.

I looked at him.

"Why did Adrian need to marry me?"

Nathan didn't answer immediately.

Then he said:

"Because your father's will probably required it."

I froze.

"What?"

"Think about it."

I did.

My father had always been extremely careful with his company.

He had told me once that his shares couldn't simply be transferred.

There were conditions.

But I had forgotten.

"You're saying..."

"Your father may have put restrictions on your inheritance."

"And Adrian needed to marry me to access it."

"Yes."

My stomach twisted.

"Then the wedding..."

"Was part of the plan."

I looked at the manor.

Adrian hadn't loved me.

He hadn't chosen me.

He had chosen my inheritance.

My company.

My name.

My father's legacy.

I felt sick.

Then Nathan said:

"There's something else."

I turned.

"What?"

"The letter."

I pulled it from my bag.

"The one warning you about Elena?"

"Yes."

"What if it wasn't written three years ago?"

I frowned.

"The date says three years ago."

"Look at the ink."

I examined it.

Nathan continued.

"That ink wasn't manufactured three years ago."

I looked at him.

"What?"

"I've seen it before."

"Where?"

"In my father's office."

My blood ran cold.

"You're saying the letter was written recently?"

"Maybe."

"But the date..."

"Could have been forged."

I stared at the letter.

Someone wanted me to believe it was old.

Someone wanted me to believe they had warned me.

But who?

And why?

Nathan looked at me.

"There's only one person who could answer that."

"Who?"

"Elena."

My heart tightened.

"You think she wrote it?"

"No."

"Then who?"

Nathan looked toward the distant lights of Black Manor.

"The person who knows what happened to your parents."

I swallowed.

"And who is that?"

He looked at me.

"My father."

We drove back in silence.

Neither of us spoke for several minutes.

I stared through the passenger window.

The city lights passed by.

My thoughts were racing.

My father.

Richard Black.

He had known my parents.

He had known about the money.

He had been connected to the offshore accounts.

He had possibly known about their deaths.

And Adrian had hidden the original police report inside his family's archive.

But one question remained.

Why had Adrian been looking for the same report tonight?

If he already knew what happened, why was he afraid of the original?

Unless...

The original report contained something that could destroy him.

Something even he didn't know about.

Something someone had hidden from him.

I turned toward Nathan.

"What if the report doesn't just prove that my parents were murdered?"

He looked at me.

"What do you mean?"

"What if it proves who ordered it?"

His hands tightened around the steering wheel.

"Then whoever has that report controls everyone's future."

"And that's why Adrian wants it."

"Yes."

I looked down at the photograph of Elena.

"Then we need to find it first."

Nathan nodded.

"We will."

When I arrived home, the house was dark.

Too dark.

I stepped inside.

"Emma?"

I froze.

A voice came from the living room.

I turned.

Elena was sitting on the sofa.

Waiting for me.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

She smiled.

"Where were you?"

I stared at her.

"Why are you here?"

"I wanted to see you."

"At midnight?"

She shrugged.

"I couldn't sleep."

I looked at her carefully.

She looked normal.

Beautiful.

Innocent.

Exactly as she had looked when I died.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Nothing."

"You look frightened."

"I'm tired."

She stood.

Then walked toward me.

"Emma."

"Yes?"

She reached out and touched my arm.

"I've been worried about you."

I looked into her eyes.

"Why?"

She smiled.

"Because you're acting differently."

My heart pounded.

"Different how?"

"You don't trust me anymore."

I said nothing.

She stepped closer.

"Did I do something?"

"No."

"Then why are you looking at me like that?"

I smiled.

"Like what?"

"Like you're afraid of me."

I forced myself to laugh.

"I'm not afraid of you."

"Good."

She hugged me.

My entire body stiffened.

Her arms tightened around me.

Then she whispered into my ear:

"You should be."

I froze.

She pulled away.

Her expression was completely innocent.

"What?"

I stared at her.

She smiled.

"I said you should get some sleep."

My heart was pounding.

She walked toward the door.

Then stopped.

"Oh, Emma?"

I looked at her.

"Yes?"

She smiled.

"Did you have a nice evening?"

I couldn't answer.

Her eyes met mine.

For one brief second...

I saw something cold behind them.

Then she left.

The front door closed.

I stood completely still.

My hand slowly moved into my bag.

I touched the photograph.

The photograph of Elena standing beside my parents.

Then I touched the letter.

Never let Elena find the blue ledger.

My eyes moved toward the stairs.

If Elena was involved...

Then she might already know about the ledger.

And if she knew...

She might know where it was.

I walked upstairs.

Closed my bedroom door.

Locked it.

Then opened my notebook.

Under the list of everything I remembered, I wrote one new sentence.

The past is changing.

I stared at it.

Then added:

And someone knows I came back.

My phone suddenly vibrated.

I looked at the screen.

Unknown number.

One message.

You found the letter.

My blood froze.

Another message appeared.

Good.

Then:

Now find the blue ledger before Elena does.

I stared at the screen.

A final message arrived.

Because the ledger contains the name of the person who ordered your parents' murder.

My hands began to shake.

I looked toward the locked bedroom door.

For the first time since returning to the past, I realized something terrifying.

I wasn't the only person changing the story.

Someone else was moving pieces too.

And they had just given me a race against my own sister.

Six days before my wedding.

Six days before I was supposed to die.

And somewhere in this city...

The blue ledger was waiting.