A LOVE WRITTEN IN BLOOD

THE RAILWAY STATION

The lights went out across the house, leaving Joan standing in complete darkness. For a moment, she could hear nothing except the pounding of her own heart. Then the emergency lights flickered on, casting the corridor in a faint red glow. “Joan!” Marco called again. She hurried back into the medical room. “I'm here.” Marco tried to sit up. “What happened?” “They've threatened you.” She looked at the doorway. “They want me to take the key to the old railway station before midnight.” Marco’s face tightened. “No.” “Marco—” “No, Joan. Dad warned us about that place.” “Why?” He looked frightened. “Because that's where he met someone before he died.”

A gunshot sounded somewhere downstairs. Joan flinched. Marco grabbed her wrist. “You can't go.” “They're going to kill you.” “And they'll kill you if you go.” “Then what am I supposed to do?” Before Marco could answer, Victor appeared in the doorway. His coat was slightly torn, but his expression remained calm. “You don't go anywhere alone.” Joan turned toward him. “They know about the station.” “I know.” “They threatened Marco.” “I heard.” Victor looked at her brother. “Can you walk?” Marco nodded reluctantly. “Then we're leaving.” Joan stared at Victor. “Leaving for where?” “The railway station.” Marco immediately shook his head. “That's exactly what they want.” Victor looked at him. “Yes.” “Then why are you taking her there?” “Because whoever sent that message expects us to panic.” He picked up the wooden box. “We won't.”

They moved through a hidden passage behind the study, one Victor's men had opened after securing the house. Joan followed closely, keeping one hand around the key inside her pocket. The passage was narrow and smelled of dust and damp stone. “How many secret passages does this house have?” she whispered. Victor glanced back. “Enough.” “That's not reassuring.” “It wasn't meant to be.” Marco walked behind them, supported by one of Victor's men. “Victor,” he said quietly. “What?” “If my father trusted you, why did he warn me about you?” Victor stopped. For several seconds, he said nothing. “Because your father knew what I was capable of.” Marco frowned. “And what are you capable of?” Victor continued walking. “Things your sister shouldn't have to know about.” Joan heard the answer and wondered whether that was meant to protect her or frighten her.

They emerged inside an abandoned warehouse near the river. Two black vehicles waited outside. Rain had started again, falling steadily over the empty streets. Victor opened the rear door of one vehicle. “Both of you stay together.” Joan got inside beside Marco. Victor entered the front passenger seat. As they drove, Ravenhurst passed outside the windows like a blurred painting. Nobody spoke for several minutes. Finally, Joan asked, “What happened to my father at the station?” Victor looked ahead. “He met my father there.” “Why?” “They were exchanging information.” “About the Raven?” “Yes.” “And what happened?” Victor paused. “They were followed.” Joan's voice became quieter. “By the people who killed them?” “Possibly.” “You said you knew.” “I know who ordered the attack. I don't know who carried it out.” Joan stared at him. “Who ordered it?” Victor turned toward her. “Someone inside the Bellini family.”

Marco's face went pale. “That's impossible.” Victor didn't respond. Joan looked at her brother. “Do you know something?” “No.” His voice trembled. “But Dad never trusted anyone outside the family.” “Someone inside knew about the meeting,” Victor said. “Someone inside knew about the box.” Joan remembered how easily her father had hidden things from everyone. “Who knew about me?” she asked. “Your father, your mother, Marco, and one other person.” “Who?” Victor looked toward the road. “Your uncle, Stefano.” Joan's stomach tightened. Stefano Bellini had been her father's younger brother. He had left Ravenhurst shortly after her father's death and rarely contacted the family. “He's been gone for years.” “Exactly,” Victor said. “Which makes him difficult to find.” Marco shook his head. “Uncle Stefano loved Dad.” “People can love someone and still betray them,” Victor replied.

The railway station appeared beyond the rain, surrounded by abandoned buildings and rusted tracks. Once, it had been one of Ravenhurst's busiest transport points. Now broken windows and weeds covered the platform. Victor's vehicles stopped several meters away. “Stay here,” he said. Joan immediately opened her door. “I'm coming.” “No.” “They asked for me.” “That's why you stay behind me.” She stepped out anyway. Victor looked annoyed but didn't argue. Marco remained in the vehicle with two guards. Joan followed Victor toward the station. The rain grew heavier as they approached the entrance. Inside, darkness swallowed the old waiting hall. A single light hung above the ticket counter, swinging slightly in the wind. On the floor was a white envelope.

Victor crouched and picked it up. “Don't touch it,” Joan warned. He opened it carefully. Inside was a photograph of Joan as a child, standing beside her father. On the back, another message had been written.

YOU WERE NEVER SUPPOSED TO KNOW.

Joan stared at the photograph. “I don't understand.” Victor looked around the station. “Neither do I.” A sound came from the upper balcony. Victor immediately raised his weapon. “Show yourself.” A man stepped into view. He was older, wearing a dark coat and holding an umbrella. Joan's breath caught. “Uncle Stefano?” The man smiled sadly. “Hello, Joan.”

Victor stepped in front of her. “You shouldn't have come.” Stefano looked at him. “Neither should you, Victor.” Joan stared at her uncle. “Did you know about the box?” Stefano's expression changed. “Your father told me never to speak about it.” “Then why are they after me?” “Because your father made a mistake.” “What mistake?” Stefano slowly descended the stairs. “He believed the Raven could be destroyed.” Victor's eyes narrowed. “It can.” Stefano laughed quietly. “Your father said the same thing.” “Where is the list?” Victor asked. Stefano looked at Joan. “She has it.” Joan shook her head. “No, I don't.” “You do. You just don't know where to look.”

Victor turned toward Joan. “The key.” She pulled it from her pocket. Stefano nodded. “Your father didn't give you a key to a door.” “Then what does it open?” “A box beneath this station.” Joan looked around. “Where?” Stefano pointed toward the old ticket counter. “Behind the clock.”

Victor moved toward the counter, but Stefano suddenly raised his hand. “Wait.” His voice became serious. “There is something you need to know before you open it.” Joan looked at him. “What?” Stefano stared directly at Victor. “Your father didn't trust Victor completely.” Victor's expression hardened. “Stefano.” “He trusted his father,” Stefano continued. “But he feared what Victor would become.” Joan felt confused. “Then why did he tell me to trust him?” Stefano's eyes filled with sadness. “Because your father knew Victor would have to choose.”

“Choose what?” Joan asked.

“His family,” Stefano whispered, “or you.”

A gunshot shattered the station windows.

Victor pulled Joan down as bullets struck the wall behind them. Stefano disappeared behind the balcony railing. Guards rushed inside from outside, returning fire. Marco shouted from the vehicle. “Joan!”

Victor grabbed her hand and pulled her behind the ticket counter. “Stay down.” “Where is Stefano?” “Gone.” Joan looked at him. “Was he working with them?” “I don't know.” “You said you always tell the truth.” Victor stared at her. “I'm telling you what I know.”

Another shot echoed through the station. Then silence.

Victor looked toward the broken entrance. “They're gone.”

Joan stood slowly. Her hands were shaking. “What now?”

Victor looked at the old clock above the ticket counter. Behind it, a narrow metal panel had been exposed by the gunfire.

“The box,” he said.

Joan inserted the key.

A click echoed through the station.

The panel opened.

Inside was a black metal case.

Joan reached for it, but Victor stopped her.

“Don't.”

She looked at him.

“Why?”

Victor's face had gone pale.

“Because I recognize that case.”

“From where?”

He stared at the case as though it had become a ghost from his past.

“My father's study.”

Joan's heart sank.

“Then how did it get here?”

Victor didn't answer.

The case began to beep.

Once.

Twice.

Joan stumbled backward, staring at the case. “What is it?” “I don't know.” Victor's voice was sharper than before. “But my father kept it locked away. He told me never to touch it.” “Why?” “Because he said it contained proof that could destroy our family.” “Marco reached them with the guards. “What happened?” Victor pointed toward the case. “Nobody touches it.” Marco looked at Joan. “What did Dad leave behind?” Joan swallowed. “Apparently, enough to start a war.” A metallic click came from inside the case. Victor's eyes widened. “Move.” He pushed everyone toward the corridor as another beep echoed through the station. Joan looked back once. The black case remained beneath the clock, silent and waiting. Then the doors slammed shut behind them.

For one second, nobody dared to breathe.

Victor grabbed Joan and pulled her away.

“Run.”