The Things Buried Under Wealth
1589 Words
Chapter Three
The Things Buried Under Wealth
Campus security questioned me for almost two hours.
By the end of it, I wanted to scream.
The security office smelled like burnt coffee and old paperwork. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead while Officer Daniels sat across from me pretending not to study every nervous movement I made.
Beside the wall, another officer flipped through a thin file with my name printed across the tab.
That alone made my stomach twist.
“You’re saying you don’t recognize the phone?” Daniels asked again.
“For the fifth time, no.”
“And you don’t know why someone would send a message mentioning you specifically?”
I forced myself not to glance toward Lucien.
He stood near the office window with his hands in his coat pockets, silent and unreadable while rain slid slowly down the glass behind him.
Even standing still, he controlled the room.
I hated that I noticed things like that.
“No,” I answered carefully.
Daniels leaned back in his chair. “You understand how strange this looks.”
I almost laughed.
Strange?
A dead professor. Anonymous messages. Blood in dorm hallways. Lucien Mercer showing up like a beautifully dressed omen every five minutes.
We passed strange two disasters ago.
“What exactly happened upstairs?” I asked instead.
The officers exchanged a look.
Bad sign.
Daniels closed the file slowly. “A student was injured.”
“Injured how?”
“We’re still investigating.”
Meaning bad enough they didn’t want rumors spreading yet.
My nerves tightened harder.
“Who was it?”
Again—that look.
Then Daniels sighed.
“Ethan Cole.”
Shock hit me immediately.
Ethan?
Sweet, awkward Ethan from my political science lecture?
The same Ethan who once carried my groceries across campus because the bag ripped open in the rain?
“What happened to him?” I asked quietly.
“He’s alive.”
The relief nearly buckled my knees.
“But,” Daniels continued carefully, “he was found unconscious near the west stairwell with significant head trauma.”
Cold spread slowly through my chest.
Someone attacked him.
And somehow my name ended up involved again.
My thoughts spun violently.
This couldn’t be coincidence anymore.
It just couldn’t.
Daniels looked toward Lucien. “Mr. Mercer, a word outside please.”
Lucien’s expression didn’t change.
But tension shifted subtly through his shoulders before he followed the officer into the hallway.
The moment the door shut behind them, I exhaled shakily.
Only then did I realize how intensely aware I’d been of him the entire time.
That annoyed me.
A lot.
“You look pale.”
I jumped slightly.
The second officer—Ramirez according to his badge—offered me a bottled water from the desk corner.
“Thanks.”
“You should probably avoid walking alone for a while.”
“Comforting.”
His expression softened slightly. “Miss Vale… Ashbourne has resources most universities don’t.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means powerful families protect their own.”
A chill slid down my spine.
“That sounded like a warning.”
“Maybe it was.”
Before I could respond, raised voices echoed faintly outside the office.
One voice belonged to Daniels.
The other—
Lucien.
I looked toward the door instinctively.
Ramirez noticed.
“You know him well?”
“No.”
Lie.
Not because we were close.
Because somehow Lucien already occupied too much space in my thoughts.
“That’s probably smart,” Ramirez muttered.
My stomach tightened. “Why do people act like he’s dangerous?”
Ramirez didn’t answer immediately.
Then:
“Because people around him tend to get hurt.”
The door opened again before I could ask more.
Lucien stepped back inside looking colder than before.
“Can we leave now?” I asked immediately.
Daniels nodded reluctantly. “For now.”
For now.
Not reassuring.
Outside, dawn had started bleeding pale gray across campus skies. Rain still misted lightly over the stone walkways while exhausted students whispered in nervous groups outside the dorm buildings.
Rumors spread fast at Ashbourne.
By breakfast, everyone would know something happened.
By lunch, half of it would be fiction.
Lucien walked beside me silently as we crossed the courtyard.
“You didn’t tell them about the messages,” I said finally.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because they’d confiscate your phone.”
“That’s your reason?”
“No.” His gaze shifted briefly toward me. “I don’t trust campus security.”
That stopped me cold.
“What?”
He kept walking.
I grabbed his sleeve before thinking.
“Lucien.”
The moment my fingers touched him, something electric flashed between us.
Tiny. Dangerous. Immediate.
His eyes lowered slowly to my hand gripping his coat.
Then back to my face.
Neither of us moved.
God.
The tension between us was unbearable sometimes.
“I asked you a question,” I said quietly.
His voice dropped lower. “And I heard you.”
“Then answer it.”
For a second, I thought he wouldn’t.
Then:
“Because some of them work for Blackwood.”
The world seemed to narrow around us.
“What exactly is Blackwood?”
He stared at me too long before answering.
“That depends how much you want your life destroyed.”
Anger flared hot through my fear.
“You don’t get to do that.”
“Do what?”
“Talk in riddles like I’m stupid.”
Something dangerous flickered across his expression.
“I talk carefully because you’re already involved deeper than you understand.”
“I didn’t ask to be involved.”
“No,” he agreed quietly. “But someone chose you anyway.”
Those words sat heavily between us.
Someone chose you.
Not targeted.
Not noticed.
Chosen.
I released his coat slowly.
My chest felt tight.
“What does this have to do with my father?”
Lucien’s jaw hardened instantly.
“There are things you don’t know.”
“Then tell me.”
“I can’t.”
“You mean you won’t.”
“That too.”
I glared at him. “You’re exhausting.”
A faint almost-smile touched his mouth.
“You’re angry because you’re frightened.”
“I’m angry because you keep appearing in my life every time something terrible happens.”
That wiped the expression off his face immediately.
Silence settled heavily between us again.
Rain tapped softly against stone around us.
Finally, he said quietly:
“You think I’m the problem.”
“Aren’t you?”
Something unexpectedly human crossed his face then.
Not arrogance. Not coldness.
Hurt.
Gone so quickly I almost imagined it.
Before I could process that, a sleek black car rolled slowly toward the courtyard curb nearby.
Luxury. Tinted windows. Too expensive for student parking.
The passenger window lowered.
A man around Lucien’s age leaned casually against the steering wheel wearing a dark suit and an amused expression.
Dangerously handsome.
Different from Lucien though.
Where Lucien felt sharp and controlled—
This man looked reckless.
“Lucien,” he called lazily. “You vanished before poker night. Rude.”
Then his eyes landed on me.
Interest sharpened instantly.
“Well,” he murmured. “Who’s this?”
Lucien’s expression cooled several degrees.
“Damien, not now.”
Too late.
Damien was already stepping out of the car.
Tall. Elegant. The kind of charm that probably ruined lives recreationally.
He smiled directly at me.
And unlike Lucien’s rare almost-smiles—
Damien’s was warm.
Dangerously warm.
“I’m Damien Cross,” he said smoothly, extending his hand. “And judging by Lucien’s expression, you’re important.”
“I’m not,” Lucien answered immediately.
My eyebrows lifted.
Rude.
Damien looked delighted by that response.
“Oh, this just became interesting.”
I ignored Lucien entirely and shook Damien’s hand.
“Elena.”
“Beautiful name.”
“Don’t flirt with her,” Lucien said flatly.
The atmosphere changed instantly.
Damien’s smile widened slowly.
“Oh,” he said softly. “Now I understand.”
Understand what?
Lucien’s jaw tightened sharply. “Get back in the car.”
“Absolutely not.”
The tension between them felt old.
Personal.
Damien leaned against the car casually while studying me.
“You look tired, Elena.”
“That’s because people keep finding unconscious bodies around me.”
“Fair point.”
His amusement faded slightly.
Then his gaze sharpened.
“Has he told you anything yet?”
Lucien stepped forward instantly. “Enough.”
Interesting.
Damien looked between us carefully before sighing.
“You’re handling this badly.”
“I’m handling it.”
“Barely.”
My patience snapped.
“Would somebody please explain what the hell is happening?”
Silence.
Then Damien looked directly at me.
“Your father stole something from Blackwood ten years ago.”
The words hit like a gunshot.
Lucien cursed sharply.
But Damien kept going.
“And now,” he said quietly, “they think you have it.”
Everything inside me stopped.
“What?”
Lucien’s face had gone ice cold.
Damien realized too late he’d said too much.
And then—
Lucien’s phone rang.
He answered instantly.
Listened.
His expression changed in a way that made fear crawl violently through my stomach.
“What happened?” Damien asked sharply.
Lucien didn’t answer right away.
His eyes locked onto mine.
Deadly calm.
“They found another body,” he said quietly.
A horrible silence followed.
Then he added:
“In Elena’s apartment building back home.”
- Writer
