Chapter 2 : The man behind the offer
2574 Words
Serena had expected the mansion to feel cold.
She hadn’t expected it to feel familiar.
The moment she stepped through the enormous entrance, something inside her tightened.
The marble floor reflected the soft golden light hanging from the chandelier above. Dark wood stretched across the walls, interrupted by enormous paintings and narrow windows overlooking perfectly maintained gardens.
Everything was expensive.
Everything was controlled.
Nothing felt lived in.
Serena hugged her arms around herself.
The driver disappeared through another doorway, leaving her standing alone in the foyer.
“Mr. Cross will see you shortly.”
She turned.
He was already gone.
“Wonderful.”
Serena looked toward the closed doors ahead.
She had made a mistake.
That thought had been following her since she stepped into the car.
She should have gone back to the hotel.
She should have called the police.
She should have ignored the strange man who knew her debt.
Instead, she’d followed a stranger into his home because he claimed her father had left something behind.
Something she didn’t know about.
That was the only reason she was still standing there.
A door opened.
“Ms. Vale.”
Serena turned.
A woman in her fifties stood in the doorway.
She wore a simple black dress and held herself with quiet authority.
“Mr. Cross is waiting for you.”
Serena hesitated.
“Is he always this welcoming?”
The woman’s lips almost curved.
“Mr. Cross isn’t known for welcoming people.”
“That’s comforting.”
“He expected you to say that.”
Serena frowned.
“He’s been expecting me?”
“He’s been expecting you for a very long time.”
The woman’s expression changed the instant the words left her mouth.
Serena noticed.
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing.”
“That didn’t sound like nothing.”
The woman stepped aside.
“Come.”
Serena didn’t move.
“Who are you?”
“Mrs. Bennett.”
“Do you work for Mr. Cross?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Long enough.”
Serena narrowed her eyes.
Nobody in this house seemed interested in giving straight answers.
Mrs. Bennett walked away.
After a moment, Serena followed.
They entered a large study.
Damian Cross stood with his back toward her, looking through the windows.
He wasn’t what she had expected.
She’d imagined someone older.
Perhaps someone loud and arrogant, the kind of wealthy man who believed money gave him permission to control everyone around him.
Damian wasn’t like that.
He was younger.
Late twenties, perhaps early thirties.
Tall.
Broad-shouldered.
Dressed in a black shirt with the sleeves rolled to his forearms.
There was nothing flashy about him.
No expensive watch displayed deliberately.
No ridiculous jewelry.
Yet the room seemed to belong to him in a way Serena couldn’t explain.
He turned.
Their eyes met.
And Serena immediately understood why people probably found him intimidating.
His eyes were dark and unreadable.
Not angry.
Not cruel.
Just observant.
As though he had already noticed every detail about her.
The wet hair.
The trembling fingers.
The stubbornness she was desperately trying to disguise as confidence.
“Serena Vale.”
Her name sounded different in his voice.
She lifted her chin.
“Damian Cross.”
“You came.”
“You offered to solve a two-hundred-and-eighty-thousand-dollar problem.”
“I did.”
“That doesn’t mean I trust you.”
“I didn’t expect you to.”
The answer caught her off guard.
She glanced around.
“Where’s the contract?”
“You’re eager.”
“I’m not interested in wasting time.”
“Neither am I.”
He walked toward the desk.
Serena watched him carefully.
He picked up a glass of water and held it toward her.
She didn’t take it.
His eyebrows lifted slightly.
“You think it’s poisoned?”
“I think people don’t offer strangers things without wanting something.”
A faint smile touched his mouth.
“You’re right.”
He placed the glass down.
“Sit.”
“I’d rather stand.”
“Fine.”
He leaned against the desk.
“Your hotel has been losing money for three years.”
Serena’s jaw tightened.
“You’ve done your research.”
“I have.”
“You’ve been investigating my family.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because your father was involved in something that concerns me.”
Her heart skipped.
“What?”
“That’s the reason you’re here.”
“No. The reason I’m here is because you offered to pay my debt.”
“Both things are connected.”
Serena stared at him.
“Tell me what my father did.”
Damian’s expression became unreadable.
“I don’t know exactly what he did.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because I know what he knew.”
Silence.
Serena felt a strange chill.
“My father was a hotel owner.”
“He was more than that.”
“No.”
“He was.”
“You didn’t know him.”
Damian’s eyes held hers.
“I knew enough.”
The confidence in his voice irritated her.
“You don’t get to rewrite my father’s life because you found some old documents.”
“I don’t need to rewrite it.”
He reached for a folder.
“I need you to read it.”
He placed it on the desk.
Serena didn’t touch it.
“What is it?”
“Your father’s financial records.”
“I’ve seen those.”
“Not these.”
She slowly approached.
Damian opened the folder.
Inside were copies of bank statements, photographs, handwritten notes, and documents she’d never seen before.
Serena picked up one photograph.
Her breath caught.
Her father stood outside a building she didn’t recognize.
He was younger.
Maybe ten years before his death.
Beside him stood another man.
Serena looked closer.
She didn’t know him.
“Who is that?”
“Victor Cross.”
She looked at Damian.
“Your father?”
“Yes.”
Serena’s fingers tightened around the photograph.
“Why was my father with your father?”
“That’s what I’ve spent twelve years trying to discover.”
She looked back at the picture.
Twelve years.
Something about the number bothered her.
“How old were you?”
“Twenty.”
“When this was taken?”
“Yes.”
“And you remember?”
“I remember enough.”
His voice had changed.
For the first time, Serena saw something beneath his controlled expression.
Pain.
It disappeared almost immediately.
“What happened to your father?”
“He died.”
“When?”
“Twelve years ago.”
Serena’s stomach dropped.
Her father had died three years ago.
So why was Damian investigating something from twelve years ago?
“Was my father responsible?”
“No.”
The answer came instantly.
Serena looked at him.
“You sound very sure.”
“I am.”
“Then why involve me?”
“Because your father spent the final years of his life protecting a secret.”
“What secret?”
“I don’t know.”
She stared at him.
“You’re asking me to help you find something you don’t even know exists?”
“Yes.”
“And in exchange?”
“I clear your debt.”
Serena laughed softly.
“That’s not a normal business arrangement.”
“No.”
“What exactly do you want me to do?”
“Return to your hotel.”
She blinked.
“What?”
“Go through your father’s belongings again.”
“I already did that.”
“Do it properly.”
“I did.”
“Look for anything he hid from you. Letters. Keys. Documents. Photographs. Anything connected to the name Cross.”
Serena folded her arms.
“And then?”
“You tell me what you find.”
“That’s it?”
“For now.”
She stared at him.
“You’ll pay my debt just for that?”
“I’ll pay it tomorrow.”
Her eyes widened.
“Tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“Before I find anything?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Damian looked at her for a long moment.
“Because if I’m right, you don’t have until Friday.”
Serena’s stomach tightened.
“What does that mean?”
He didn’t answer.
“Damian.”
His gaze shifted toward the window.
“Your father’s death wasn’t an accident.”
The room seemed to disappear around her.
Serena couldn’t breathe.
“What?”
“I said your father’s death wasn’t an accident.”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“Serena—”
“No.”
Her voice cracked.
“The police said it was.”
“They were wrong.”
“My father died in a car accident.”
“I know.”
“He lost control of the vehicle.”
“I know.”
“He was tired.”
“I know.”
“Then stop saying that!”
Her eyes burned.
Damian remained silent.
Serena hated him for his calmness.
She hated the way he stood there as if he hadn’t just taken the one explanation she’d spent three years forcing herself to accept and ripped it apart.
“You don’t know my father.”
“I know someone wanted him dead.”
She stared at him.
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then how can you say that?”
“Because my father died the same way.”
Silence.
Serena’s anger faltered.
Damian’s expression hardened.
“Two men. Two accidents. Twelve years apart.”
He pushed another photograph across the desk.
Serena picked it up.
Her father’s car.
The photograph had been taken after the accident.
She turned it over.
There was handwriting on the back.
Three words.
He betrayed us.
Serena’s heart pounded.
“Who wrote this?”
“My father.”
She looked at Damian.
“How do you know?”
“Because it’s his handwriting.”
She put the photograph down.
“I don’t understand.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Then why tell me?”
“Because someone else is looking for what your father left behind.”
Her blood ran cold.
“Someone else?”
Damian nodded.
“And unlike me, they don’t care whether you survive long enough to find it.”
Serena stared at him.
There it was.
The first real fear.
Not of Damian.
Of whatever had been waiting outside her understanding for years.
She suddenly remembered the black car outside the hotel.
“Was that why you sent the car?”
“Partly.”
“Partly?”
“I wanted to make sure you arrived safely.”
She frowned.
“You said you weren’t watching me.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Then how did you know I was being followed?”
Damian’s eyes sharpened.
“Because I was watching the person watching you.”
Serena went still.
“You knew?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Long enough.”
She stepped backward.
“You’ve been watching me.”
“I’ve been watching the people around you.”
“That’s not better.”
“I know.”
She shook her head.
“This is insane.”
She turned toward the door.
“Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“You’ll take the car.”
“I can get a taxi.”
“You won’t.”
Serena turned.
“You don’t give me orders.”
“No.”
He walked toward her.
“You’re right.”
He stopped a few feet away.
“I don’t.”
For some reason, the lack of argument unsettled her more than an order would have.
Damian reached into his pocket and pulled out a small envelope.
He held it toward her.
“This belonged to your father.”
Serena hesitated.
“What is it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then why give it to me?”
“Because your name is written on it.”
Her hand trembled as she took the envelope.
Her father’s handwriting.
She knew it immediately.
On the front were four words.
For Serena. When ready.
Her eyes filled with tears.
She hadn’t seen his handwriting in months.
She pressed the envelope against her chest.
“Why didn’t you give me this before?”
“Because I needed to know whether you were ready.”
“Ready for what?”
Damian looked at her.
“The truth.”
Serena swallowed.
“What’s inside?”
“I don’t know.”
She stared at him suspiciously.
“You’re telling me you don’t know what’s inside?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I never opened it.”
She studied his face.
For the first time since entering the mansion, she believed him.
That frightened her more than anything else.
Because Damian Cross had given her something he could have kept.
Something valuable.
Something connected to her father.
And he hadn’t demanded she open it in front of him.
“Why would you help me?”
His expression softened for barely a second.
“Maybe I’m tired of losing people because of a secret that should have died twelve years ago.”
Serena looked down at the envelope.
She didn’t know what to believe.
She didn’t know if Damian was telling her the truth.
She didn’t know whether he was the person who could save her family…
Or the man who would destroy it.
But she knew one thing.
Her father’s death was no longer the simple accident she’d believed it was.
And somewhere inside that envelope was the first piece of a truth someone had spent years trying to bury.
Serena slipped it into her bag.
“I’ll look into it.”
Damian nodded.
“And the debt?”
“I’ll handle it tomorrow.”
“You really will?”
“Yes.”
She walked toward the door.
“Serena.”
She stopped.
She turned.
Damian’s eyes were fixed on her.
“If you find anything unusual tonight, don’t tell anyone.”
Her brow furrowed.
“Why?”
“Because you don’t know who you can trust.”
She gave him a bitter smile.
“Apparently, neither do you.”
For the first time, Damian smiled.
It wasn’t warm.
It wasn’t reassuring.
It was almost sad.
“Now you’re beginning to understand.”
Serena left.
The door closed behind her.
Damian remained still.
Mrs. Bennett entered a few seconds later.
“She has the envelope.”
“I know.”
“Are you sure this is wise?”
Damian looked toward the door.
“No.”
Mrs. Bennett frowned.
“Then why do it?”
He picked up the photograph of Serena’s father.
On the back, beneath the words He betrayed us, was a second line Damian had never shown Serena.
If anything happens to me, protect my daughter.
Damian’s jaw tightened.
“He made me a promise.”
“And?”
Damian looked toward the dark window.
“I intend to keep it.”
Outside, Serena stepped into the waiting car.
She didn’t see the figure standing across the street.
But he saw her.
He lifted his phone.
“She’s leaving.”
A pause.
Then his expression changed.
“Yes.”
Another pause.
“No. She has something.”
He watched the car disappear into the night.
“An envelope.”
His voice lowered.
“And I think she knows.”
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