Chapter 8
1711 Words
THE FIRST LIE
ELENA’S POV
I couldn’t move.
Adrian’s words echoed through the tunnel.
Your sister killed your father.
I stared at him, waiting for him to take it back.
He didn’t.
“Say that again.”
His jaw tightened.
“Elena—”
“Say it.”
He looked at me.
“Isabella killed your father.”
My chest tightened.
“No.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“You don’t get to stand there and tell me that.”
“It’s the truth.”
“You’ve lied to me since I came back.”
“I never lied about this.”
“You knew she was alive.”
“Yes.”
“You knew she contacted you.”
“Yes.”
“You knew about my father.”
“Yes.”
I stepped closer.
“And you still expected me to trust you?”
Adrian looked away.
“No.”
“Good.”
I turned around.
“I’m going after her.”
He caught my wrist.
“No.”
I pulled away.
“Don’t touch me.”
“You’re angry.”
“Of course I’m f*****g angry!”
My voice echoed through the tunnel.
“I came home because my father died. Then I discovered I have a sister. Then I found out my mother lied to me. My uncle lied to me. You lied to me. And now you’re telling me my sister killed my father?”
Adrian remained silent.
I pointed at him.
“I want the whole truth.”
“You can’t handle it.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Try me.”
He stared at me for several seconds.
Then he reached into his coat.
He pulled out a small black envelope.
“This belonged to your father.”
I took it.
“What is it?”
“Evidence.”
“Of what?”
“Isabella was at the estate the night your father died.”
My fingers tightened around the envelope.
“How do you know?”
“Security footage.”
“You have footage?”
“I have a copy.”
“Why didn’t you show me?”
“Because I was trying to protect you.”
“Stop saying that.”
His eyes narrowed.
“Why?”
“Because everyone uses that excuse when they don’t want to admit they’re lying.”
He looked wounded.
For the first time, I saw something behind his cold expression.
Regret.
But I wasn’t ready to forgive him.
I opened the envelope.
Inside was a photograph.
The image was grainy, clearly taken from a security camera.
A woman stood outside my father’s study.
Long dark hair.
Same height.
Same face.
Isabella.
I looked at the timestamp.
11:47 P.M.
My father’s estimated time of death had been eleven forty-five.
I looked at Adrian.
“She was there.”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn’t you tell the police?”
“I did.”
“What?”
“They questioned her.”
“When?”
“The next morning.”
“Where?”
“At the police station.”
I stared at him.
“And they let her go?”
“She had an alibi.”
“What alibi?”
Adrian hesitated.
“She claimed she was with you.”
My stomach dropped.
“With me?”
“Yes.”
“But I hadn’t even met her.”
“I know.”
“Then she lied.”
“Yes.”
I stared at the photograph.
Something wasn’t right.
I looked at the timestamp again.
11:47.
I remembered something.
“Wait.”
Adrian looked at me.
“My father was already dead when I found him.”
“Yes.”
“But I remember hearing footsteps.”
“What?”
“Before I found his body.”
I closed my eyes.
The memory came back.
A shadow.
Footsteps.
The study door.
Someone leaving.
But I had always assumed it was Adrian.
Now I wasn’t sure.
“Adrian.”
“What?”
“The person I saw that night…”
I swallowed.
“It wasn’t you.”
His expression changed.
“No.”
“Then who was it?”
“I don’t know.”
I stared at the photograph.
Maybe Isabella hadn’t killed my father.
Maybe someone wanted me to believe she did.
⸻
THE SECOND PASSAGE
We continued through the tunnel.
The air became colder.
The walls narrowed.
Adrian walked ahead, flashlight in hand.
I followed closely behind.
After several minutes, we reached a metal door.
Adrian entered a code.
The door opened.
We stepped into an abandoned wine cellar beneath the estate.
I looked around.
Dusty bottles covered the shelves.
“This connects to the outside?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“The old carriage house.”
I looked at him.
“You know this house better than I do.”
“I’ve spent years studying it.”
“Why?”
He didn’t answer.
“Adrian.”
He sighed.
“Because my father believed the Marlowes were responsible for his death.”
“Was he right?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then why seek revenge?”
“Because I was seventeen when he died.”
His voice became quieter.
“I watched my mother fall apart. I watched everything we owned disappear. I watched people who knew the truth refuse to speak.”
He looked at me.
“And I swore I’d find whoever did it.”
I softened slightly.
“What happened to your mother?”
“She died three years later.”
“I’m sorry.”
He nodded.
“She never recovered.”
Silence settled between us.
For the first time, I understood why Adrian had spent so many years chasing the truth.
He wasn’t just investigating my family.
He was trying to understand why his own family had been destroyed.
Then he said:
“But revenge isn’t what brought me back.”
I looked at him.
“Then what did?”
“You.”
My breath caught.
“What?”
He stepped closer.
“I found you six years ago.”
I stared at him.
“You found me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because your father asked me to protect you.”
My heart skipped.
“Before he died?”
Adrian nodded.
“Months before.”
“Why?”
“He knew someone was watching you.”
“Who?”
“We never found out.”
I stared at him.
“So you were protecting me?”
“From a distance.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because your father specifically told me not to.”
I shook my head.
“Why?”
“Because he knew you wouldn’t trust me.”
He smiled faintly.
“He was right.”
Despite everything, I almost smiled.
Then a loud noise came from above us.
We froze.
Someone was walking across the floor.
Adrian raised a finger to his lips.
We listened.
Footsteps.
Slow.
Then a voice.
“Elena.”
My blood ran cold.
I knew that voice.
Isabella.
Adrian whispered:
“Stay here.”
He started toward the stairs.
I grabbed his arm.
“No.”
“Elena.”
“I’m coming.”
He stared at me.
Then nodded.
We climbed the stairs.
The carriage house was dark.
The doors were open.
Rain blew inside.
Nobody was there.
Then I saw something hanging from a wooden beam.
A red ribbon.
I recognized it immediately.
It was the ribbon my mother had tied around my wrist the day I was born.
I stepped closer.
Underneath it was a note.
I opened it.
You keep looking for the wrong sister.
My heart stopped.
I read the next line.
Isabella isn’t the one you should fear.
Then:
Ask your mother who the third baby was.
I looked at Adrian.
“The third baby.”
His expression darkened.
“We need to go back.”
“Why?”
“Because your mother knows more than she admitted.”
⸻
THE CONFESSION
We returned to the mansion.
The police had arrived.
Apparently, someone had called them after the shooting.
Officers were searching the property.
My mother sat in the living room, wrapped in a blanket.
Victoria was beside her.
Marcus stood near the fireplace.
I walked straight toward my mother.
“Who was the third baby?”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Elena…”
“Who was she?”
Mother shook her head.
“I can’t.”
“You have to.”
Marcus stepped forward.
“That’s enough.”
I turned toward him.
“No.”
His expression hardened.
“You don’t understand the consequences.”
“I’m done caring about consequences.”
I looked at my mother.
“You lied to me my entire life.”
She started crying.
“I was trying to protect you.”
“From who?”
She whispered:
“From your father.”
I froze.
“What?”
“Your father wasn’t supposed to know.”
“Know what?”
Mother looked toward Adrian.
Then at me.
“The third baby wasn’t yours.”
I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Mother’s hands trembled.
“She wasn’t my biological child.”
Silence.
I felt dizzy.
“Then whose baby was she?”
Mother closed her eyes.
“Catherine’s.”
I looked at Adrian.
He went completely still.
“Catherine had two daughters that night,” Mother continued.
“One was Isabella.”
“And the other?”
Mother looked directly at me.
“The other baby was you.”
My breath stopped.
I stared at her.
“No.”
She nodded.
“Elena…”
“No.”
I stepped backward.
“You’re saying I’m not a Marlowe?”
Mother couldn’t speak.
Marcus answered for her.
“You’re a Cross.”
I looked at Adrian.
He was staring at me in shock.
I laughed.
A broken, disbelieving laugh.
“This is insane.”
Nobody moved.
My entire identity had just been ripped away.
I wasn’t Elena Marlowe.
I was Elena Cross.
Adrian’s eyes met mine.
And suddenly, the reason he had spent six years protecting me became terrifyingly clear.
He hadn’t been protecting the daughter of his family’s enemy.
He had been protecting—
his own blood.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD