Chapter 9
1598 Words
THE NAME I NEVER KNEW
ELENA’S POV
For a few seconds, I forgot how to breathe.
You’re a Cross.
The words kept repeating in my head.
They didn’t sound real.
They couldn’t be real.
My entire life had been built around one simple fact.
I was Elena Marlowe.
My father’s daughter.
My mother’s daughter.
Victoria’s younger sister.
A Marlowe.
But now everyone was looking at me as if my name had just been erased.
I stared at my mother.
“Say it again.”
Her lips trembled.
“Elena…”
“Say it.”
She closed her eyes.
“You are Catherine’s daughter.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“Your biological father was Adrian’s father.”
My stomach dropped.
I looked at Adrian.
He was completely motionless.
His gray eyes were fixed on me.
I could see the shock on his face.
“No,” I whispered.
Adrian finally spoke.
“That’s impossible.”
Mother looked at him.
“I’m sorry.”
He shook his head.
“You said Catherine had two children.”
“She did.”
“Then Elena is—”
“Catherine’s daughter.”
Adrian took a step backward.
I watched him struggle to process it.
The man who had spent years protecting me.
The man who had been standing beside me through every secret.
The man whose hand I had held in the darkness beneath the mansion.
My heart twisted.
If what my mother was saying was true…
then everything between us had suddenly become something I didn’t understand.
I turned away.
“I need air.”
I walked outside.
Nobody followed me.
Rain had stopped, leaving the garden soaked and glistening beneath the moonlight.
I walked until I reached the old stone fountain.
This was where I used to hide when I was a child.
I sat on the edge.
My hands were shaking.
I looked at them.
These were the same hands that had written my name on school papers.
The same hands that had held my father’s hand when I was little.
The same hands that had held Adrian’s only hours earlier.
But whose blood was actually running through my veins?
I heard footsteps behind me.
I didn’t turn.
“Go away.”
Adrian stopped several feet behind me.
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re not okay.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Really? You think?”
He didn’t respond.
I looked over my shoulder.
“Did you know?”
“No.”
“Never?”
“Never.”
“You swear?”
“Yes.”
I studied his face.
For once, there was no coldness.
No mystery.
Only pain.
“I didn’t know you were my sister.”
The words came out broken.
“I know.”
“I thought…”
He stopped.
“What?”
He looked away.
“I thought I was falling in love with you.”
My heart stopped.
Neither of us moved.
The world seemed to become completely silent.
I whispered:
“What?”
He looked at me.
“I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No.”
I stood.
“Don’t take it back.”
“Elena…”
“Don’t.”
He stepped closer.
“I didn’t know.”
“I know.”
“If I had known—”
“I know.”
“I never would have—”
“I know.”
Tears filled my eyes.
“This is so f****d up.”
“Yes.”
I laughed through my tears.
“That’s the understatement of the century.”
He almost smiled.
Almost.
Then I looked at him.
“Are we actually related?”
Adrian hesitated.
“No.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“I need proof.”
“Mother said—”
“Your mother has lied to you for twenty-four years.”
He was right.
I wiped my eyes.
“So you don’t believe her?”
“I believe she’s hiding something.”
“Then what do you think?”
He stared toward the mansion.
“I think someone wants us to believe you’re a Cross.”
My heart started pounding again.
“Why?”
“Because if you’re not a Marlowe…”
He looked at me.
“…you have no claim to your father’s estate.”
I stared at him.
“The company.”
“Yes.”
“Someone wants me out.”
“Exactly.”
“And if they convince everyone I’m not a Marlowe…”
“Then Marcus gets everything.”
I suddenly understood.
Marcus.
The inheritance.
The company.
The ledger.
My father’s death.
I turned toward the mansion.
“Where is Marcus?”
Adrian’s expression changed.
“Inside.”
“Then we need to talk to him.”
⸻
THE EMPTY HOUSE
When we returned to the mansion, everyone was gone.
The police.
Victoria.
Mother.
Marcus.
All gone.
I stared at the empty hallway.
“Where did everyone go?”
Adrian checked his phone.
“No signal.”
“Mine either.”
He looked toward the front door.
“It may have been deliberately disabled.”
My stomach tightened.
“Someone wanted us alone.”
“Yes.”
We walked toward the library.
The grandfather clock was open.
The hidden passage stood exposed.
Adrian stopped.
“Someone used it.”
“How can you tell?”
“Fresh footprints.”
I looked down.
Mud.
Someone had recently walked through.
“Where does it lead?”
“Several places.”
“Then let’s follow them.”
We entered the passage.
The door closed behind us.
A few minutes later, we reached another chamber.
This one was larger.
There was a desk.
A chair.
A filing cabinet.
And dozens of boxes.
I walked toward them.
“What’s this?”
Adrian opened one.
Old documents.
Bank statements.
Birth certificates.
Hospital records.
My heart started pounding.
“Adrian.”
He turned.
I held up a document.
“Look.”
It was a birth certificate.
ELENA CROSS.
Date of birth:
May 17, 2002.
Mother:
Catherine Cross.
Father:
Daniel Cross.
I stared at it.
Daniel Cross.
Adrian’s father.
The room spun.
“I really am…”
“Don’t jump to conclusions.”
“But it’s official.”
Adrian took the document.
He studied it.
Then frowned.
“What?”
“Look at the registration number.”
I did.
He pointed to the bottom.
“These numbers don’t match the hospital records.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means someone created this later.”
I looked at him.
“So it could be fake.”
“Yes.”
I exhaled.
“Then we need the original.”
Adrian opened another drawer.
Inside were hospital records.
He found one.
Then another.
Then another.
His face became increasingly confused.
“What’s wrong?”
He handed me a document.
It was a hospital admission record.
Patient:
Catherine Cross.
Delivery:
Twin girls.
My heart stopped.
Twin girls.
But then another document fell from the file.
I picked it up.
It was a medical report.
My eyes moved across the page.
Then stopped.
Patient: Catherine Cross
Delivery: Three infants.
I stared.
“Three.”
Adrian nodded.
“Three.”
“Then why did everyone keep saying two?”
“I don’t know.”
I turned the page.
There were three birth times.
2:11 A.M. — Female
2:16 A.M. — Female
2:19 A.M. — Female
Three daughters.
I whispered:
“Who was the third?”
Adrian looked through the file.
“There are no names.”
“Why?”
“Because someone removed them.”
I turned the page.
A handwritten note appeared at the bottom.
ONE CHILD REMOVED FROM RECORD.
I felt sick.
“Someone erased a baby.”
Adrian nodded.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Before he could answer, the lights went out.
Darkness.
I grabbed his arm.
“Adrian?”
“I’m here.”
A door slammed somewhere behind us.
Then another.
We heard footsteps.
Someone was inside the passage.
Adrian pulled me behind him.
“Stay quiet.”
The footsteps came closer.
Closer.
Then stopped.
A man’s voice whispered:
“Elena.”
I recognized it.
Marcus.
“Uncle Marcus?”
No answer.
Adrian stepped forward.
“Show yourself.”
Marcus appeared at the entrance.
His face was bruised.
Blood ran down the side of his forehead.
He looked terrified.
“Thank God.”
I stared at him.
“What happened?”
He locked the door behind him.
“They found me.”
“Who?”
“The people who have been hunting your family.”
Adrian stepped forward.
“Who are they?”
Marcus looked at him.
Then at me.
“They aren’t hunting the Marlowes.”
His voice trembled.
“They’re hunting you.”
I swallowed.
“Why?”
Marcus stared at me.
“Because you’re the third baby.”
My blood ran cold.
“What?”
He shook his head.
“Your mother was wrong.”
“About what?”
Marcus looked at Adrian.
Then back at me.
“You’re not Catherine’s daughter.”
I stared at him.
“Then whose daughter am I?”
He whispered:
“Your father’s.”
I frowned.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
Marcus’s eyes filled with fear.
“Your father wasn’t your biological father.”
He paused.
“And neither was Daniel Cross.”
My heart stopped.
“Then who?”
Marcus looked toward the locked door.
Someone was pounding on it.
He leaned closer.
“Your real father is the reason all of this started.”
The door shook again.
And Marcus whispered the name that changed everything.
“Gabriel Vale.”
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