The Devil's Last Promise

The photograph

Joan could not take her eyes off the photograph.

The little girl standing between her father and Victor's father was unmistakably her. She was younger, perhaps eight or nine, wearing the white dress her mother had kept in an old box for years. But Joan had no memory of ever meeting Victor's father, and that frightened her more than the message written on the back.

Victor took the photograph from her carefully.

"Where did you get this?"

"It was inside the envelope."

His eyes moved over the picture again. His expression had changed completely.

"I've seen this room before."

Joan looked at him. "Where?"

"In my father's private archives."

Pascal stepped closer.

"Victor."

Victor ignored him.

"There was a room in the old Vale estate that my father never allowed anyone to enter. When I was younger, I once saw this same wall in one of his photographs."

Mary folded her arms. "Then take us there."

Victor looked at her.

"You don't understand what you're asking."

"My father has disappeared from a locked room, someone has been following Joan, and apparently our families were partners twelve years ago. I think we understand enough."

Victor remained silent.

Joan stepped forward.

"Take us to the estate."

He looked at her for several seconds before nodding.

"Fine."

Pascal immediately objected.

"That's a mistake."

Victor turned toward him.

"Why?"

"Because if someone took your father's archives, they'll know we're coming."

"Then we'll find out who."

Pascal's jaw tightened.

Joan noticed the tension between the brothers again. Something about Pascal's reaction felt different now. It wasn't fear.

It was recognition.

They left the clinic before sunrise.

Mary drove one car while Victor drove another. Joan sat beside Victor, holding the photograph against her chest. She had barely spoken since leaving the clinic.

Finally, she asked, "Why was I there?"

Victor kept his eyes on the road.

"I don't know."

"That's not good enough."

"I know."

"You keep saying that."

"Because it's true."

Joan looked through the window.

"My father lied to me. Your father apparently lied to you. Pascal knows something he's refusing to tell us. And now someone has been watching me since I was a child."

Victor glanced at her.

"You're right."

She turned toward him.

"About what?"

"You're not being told enough."

It was the first time Victor had admitted it.

Joan looked down at the photograph.

"Then help me."

Victor's hands tightened slightly around the steering wheel.

"I will."

The Vale estate appeared beyond the trees just after dawn.

It was enormous, surrounded by high walls and old iron gates. Unlike Vale Tower, the estate didn't look modern. It looked like something that had survived generations of secrets.

Victor entered a code at the gate.

The doors opened.

Pascal's car arrived moments later.

Mary stepped out first.

"Where do we start?"

Victor looked toward the main house.

"My father's study."

Inside, everything was exactly as Victor remembered it.

Dark wooden shelves lined the walls. Old documents filled glass cabinets. Paintings of previous generations of the Vale family watched them from above.

Victor walked toward a locked door.

"This was always forbidden."

Joan looked at him.

"Can you open it?"

He pulled a key from his pocket.

"Apparently."

The lock clicked.

The room beyond was covered in dust.

Boxes were stacked against the walls. Old photographs filled several tables. Joan moved toward them immediately.

Then she stopped.

There it was.

The same room from the photograph.

The same wall.

The same window.

And on the wall was a faded painting of two families standing together.

The Morettis.

The Vales.

Joan stared at it.

"We weren't enemies."

Victor shook his head slowly.

"No."

Mary moved closer.

"Then what happened?"

Nobody answered.

Pascal entered the room.

He looked at the painting.

For the first time, Joan saw something close to fear in his eyes.

Victor noticed it too.

"You knew."

Pascal remained silent.

"You knew our families worked together."

Pascal looked at his brother.

"Some things were better left buried."

Victor stepped toward him.

"Father is dead. Joan's father has disappeared. Someone is manipulating both families. Whatever you know, this isn't the time to protect old secrets."

Pascal's expression hardened.

"You think knowing the truth will save you?"

"No."

Victor's voice dropped.

"But not knowing it might destroy us."

Pascal looked away.

Mary walked toward one of the shelves and pulled out an old leather folder.

"This has Joan's name on it."

Everyone went silent.

Joan took the folder.

Her hands trembled as she opened it.

Inside were documents from twelve years ago.

The first page contained her father's signature.

The second contained Victor's father's.

The third contained a photograph of Joan as a child.

But beneath the photograph was a sentence that made her blood run cold.

SUBJECT: JOAN MORETTI

She stared at the words.

"Why was I a subject?"

Victor took the document.

His face became pale.

"I don't know."

Joan turned toward Pascal.

"You do."

Pascal didn't answer.

"Pascal."

He finally looked at her.

"There was an agreement."

"What agreement?"

He sighed.

"Twelve years ago, both families were being threatened by someone outside the city. Your father and my father joined forces to protect their families."

Joan's eyes narrowed.

"Then why did they become enemies?"

"Because someone betrayed them."

"Who?"

Pascal hesitated.

"We never found out."

Victor looked at the documents.

"Then why was Joan involved?"

Pascal's eyes moved to her.

"Because the agreement wasn't only about business."

Joan felt a chill.

"What was it about?"

Before Pascal could answer, a noise came from the hallway.

Everyone turned.

A door slammed.

Victor immediately moved toward it.

"Stay here."

Joan followed him.

"No."

He looked back.

"Joan."

"You said you'd help me find the truth."

"I am."

"Then I'm coming."

Victor studied her for a moment before nodding.

They stepped into the hallway together.

The sound had come from the far end of the house.

They reached the corridor just as a figure disappeared around the corner.

Victor ran after them.

Joan followed.

They reached an empty room.

No one was there.

Only an open window.

Victor looked outside.

"Whoever it was knew this house."

Joan turned.

Pascal was standing at the end of the corridor.

His face was strangely calm.

Mary walked toward him.

"Where were you?"

"With you."

"You weren't."

Pascal's expression changed.

"Be careful, Mary."

She stepped closer.

"Or what?"

Victor returned.

"Enough."

He looked between them.

"We have bigger problems."

Joan held up the folder.

"No. We have the problem we've been avoiding."

She opened the final page.

There was a handwritten note.

If Joan discovers the truth before her eighteenth birthday, the agreement fails.

Joan stared at the sentence.

Her voice barely came out.

"My birthday."

Victor looked at her.

"When is it?"

She slowly answered.

"Tomorrow."

Silence filled the hallway.

Pascal's expression changed instantly.

Victor noticed.

"You knew."

Pascal didn't deny it.

"That's why they took your father."

Joan's heart dropped.

"Why?"

Pascal looked toward the window where the unknown figure had escaped.

"Because tomorrow, the agreement ends."

Victor stepped forward.

"What agreement?"

Pascal finally looked at him.

"The one that decides who controls both families."

Joan stared at him.

"And who controls them?"

Pascal's eyes settled on her.

"You."

Before Joan could respond, every light in the estate went out.

Her phone vibrated in the darkness.

One new message appeared.

COME ALONE, JOAN. YOUR FATHER IS WAITING.

She looked at Victor.

He was already looking at her.

Neither of them spoke.

They both knew the message could be a trap.

But for the first time since her father disappeared, Joan had something she couldn't ignore.

A chance to find him.