The Web Tightens
1655 Words
Arwen waited until evening to call her father.
She locked herself in her bedroom, hands shaking as she pulled up his number.
He answered on the second ring. “Arwen. How’s married life?”
“We need to talk, now.”
“Is something wrong?”
“Everything is wrong. I need you to come to the estate tonight.”
She hung up before he could argue.
An hour later, a staff member knocked. “Your father is waiting in the east parlor, Mrs. Ravencroft.”
Thorne stood by the window when she entered, looking older than she remembered.
“This better be important,” he said. “I had to cancel two meetings to drive out here.”
Arwen pulled out her phone. Showed him the photo Rowan had given her. “Explain this.”
Thorne leaned in. His face went pale. “Where did you get this?”
“Rowan Kade, head of security. He’s been investigating Isolde’s disappearance.” Arwen’s voice shook. “This was taken the night she vanished. She planned this.”
“We don’t know that.”
“Look at her face! She’s not scared. She’s getting into that car on purpose.” Arwen stepped closer. “You said she panicked. That she left a note saying she couldn’t do it. But this looks like she knew exactly what she was doing.”
Thorne turned away. “What do you want me to say?”
“The truth. What aren’t you telling me?”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“Bullshit.” Arwen moved around to face him. “Whose car is that? Where was she going?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not...”
“Dad!” Arwen’s voice cracked. “I’m risking everything. My life, my future, my sanity. The least you can do is tell me the truth about why Isolde really ran.”
Thorne sank into a chair. Rubbed his face with both hands.
“There were rumors,” he said finally. “About Isolde and Viktor Ashbourne.”
Arwen’s stomach dropped. “What about them?”
“They were seen together at restaurants and hotels, multiple times. Always in different cities.” Thorne looked up at her. “I confronted her about it two weeks before the wedding. She said Viktor was using her to get information about the Ravencroft merger. That she was playing him. But I didn’t believe her.”
“Why not?”
“Because Isolde doesn’t play games unless she’s winning. And the way she talked about Viktor, there was something there. Something more than business.”
Arwen sat down. “You think she ran away with him?”
“Maybe. Or maybe she ran away from both of them.” Thorne leaned forward. “Viktor Ashbourne is dangerous. If Isolde got involved with him or gave him information about the merger or the family, it could destroy everything.”
“Did you tell Caelum about this?”
“God, no. If they knew Isolde might have been working with their biggest enemy, they’d call off the merger immediately. We’d lose everything.”
“So you just sent me in blind? Let me walk into this house not knowing my sister might be a corporate spy?”
“She’s not a spy. She’s just... selfish.” Thorne stopped. “Everything is about what Isolde wants. The family, the business, you... none of it mattered to her.”
“That’s not true.”
“Isn’t it? She chose herself over this family.” His voice hardened. “You will not do the same.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re in this now. You’re Mrs. Caelum Ravencroft. You signed the contracts.” Thorne stood. “Whatever Isolde did or didn’t do doesn’t matter anymore. You can’t run. Because if you do, we all go down.”
“Even if it means lying to Caelum forever?”
“Especially if it means that.” Thorne moved toward the door. “Rowan Kade gave you two weeks, use them. Figure out how to make this work. And for god’s sake, stay away from Viktor Ashbourne. Because if he knows who you really are, he’ll use it. He’ll burn this family to the ground just to watch us suffer.” Thorne opened the door. “Be smart, Arwen. Be better than your sister.”
He left.
Arwen sat alone in the parlor, her mind racing.
Isolde and Viktor. Was it real? Or was her father paranoid?
Either way, Rowan was right. Something didn’t add up.
-----
The charity event two days later was at the Metropolitan Museum.
Arwen wore a red gown that Isolde had apparently ordered months ago.
Caelum’s hand rested on her lower back as they moved through the crowd.
“Stop looking so tense,” he murmured.
“I’m not tense.”
“You’re rigid.” His thumb pressed slightly against her spine. “Relax.”
“Easy for you to say. You grew up with this.”
“And you married into it. Same thing.” He steered her toward a group of donors. “Smile. These people give us millions every year.”
The next hour was a performance. Compliments on the museum’s new exhibit.
Then she saw her.
Evelyn Crowe. The journalist from the press conference, watching from across the room.
Their eyes met.
Evelyn smiled and started moving toward them.
“We should go,” Arwen said quickly.
“We just got here.”
“I don’t feel well.”
“You look fine.”
“Caelum...”
Too late. Evelyn appeared at his elbow.
“Mr. Ravencroft. Mrs. Ravencroft. Wonderful to see you both.” Her smile was all teeth. “Congratulations again on the marriage. Such a whirlwind romance.”
“Thank you, Ms. Crowe.” Caelum’s voice was polite. “Are you covering tonight’s event?”
“Actually, I’m here as a guest. Museum donor for fifteen years.” She turned to Arwen. “I’ve been hoping to run into you again, Mrs. Ravencroft. I had some follow-up questions about your lovely speech at the press conference.”
“I’m sure anything you need can go through our PR team.”
“Of course. But I prefer the personal touch.” Evelyn stepped closer. “Perhaps we could chat for a moment? Woman to woman?”
“My wife doesn’t give interviews without...” Caelum started.
“It’s fine.” Arwen cut him off. “Five minutes.”
Caelum nodded. “I’ll be at the bar.”
Evelyn guided Arwen to a quieter corner of the gallery.
“You’re good, very good. Most people would have panicked when they saw me coming.”
“I’m not most people.”
“No. You’re not.” Evelyn studied her. “You’re much more interesting than your sister was.”
Arwen’s blood went cold. “Excuse me?”
“Isolde, the woman you’re pretending to be.” Evelyn’s voice was almost kind. “Don’t bother denying it. I’ve been a journalist for twenty years. I know when someone’s performing.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you do.” Evelyn pulled out her phone. Showed Arwen a photo of two girls, maybe twelve and ten, at some family event. Isolde in front, golden and smiling. Arwen in the background, looking at the camera with serious gray eyes.
“This is from your family’s holiday card. Fifteen years ago.” Evelyn zoomed in on young Arwen’s face. “You have the same eyes, same bone structure. Different coloring now, of course. But the foundation is there.”
Arwen’s hands were shaking. “What do you want?”
“The truth.” Evelyn put away her phone. “Where is Isolde? Why are you pretending to be her?”
“I can’t...”
“Can’t? Or won’t?” Evelyn leaned in. “I know about Viktor Ashbourne. I know he was seen with Isolde multiple times before she disappeared. I know the Ravencroft family has secrets that could destroy this merger.” Her voice dropped. “And I know you’re caught in the middle of something you don’t fully understand.”
“Then why haven’t you published anything?”
“Because I don’t have the full story yet. But I will.” Evelyn reached into her purse and pulled out a business card. “When this gets too heavy and you need someone who can help, call me.”
“I’m not going to...”
Evelyn pressed something into Arwen’s palm. A folded piece of paper.
“I’m not your enemy,” Evelyn said quietly. “But I am a journalist. And this story is going to come out eventually. The question is whether you’re part of the truth or part of the cover-up.”
She walked away, disappearing into the crowd.
Arwen stood frozen. Slowly unfolded the paper.
Evelyn’s handwriting, neat and precise:
The sister no one sees. I have questions. Do you have answers? Meet me. Thursday, 2 PM, Corner Café in Madison. Come alone. Or watch everything burn.
Arwen crumpled the note in her fist.
Across the gallery, Caelum was watching her.
She forced a smile and walked toward him on shaking legs.
“What did she want?” he asked.
“Nothing. Just small talk.”
“You’re pale. What did she say?”
“Nothing important. Can we go? Please?”
Caelum studied her face. Then nodded. “Let me say goodbye to the board members. Five minutes.”
He left.
Arwen looked at the crumpled note in her hand.
Thursday.
Meet Evelyn and risk exposure.
Don’t meet her and risk Evelyn publishing whatever she’d already figured out.
Either way, the web was tightening.
And Arwen was running out of time.
- Writer
