The Devil's Forbidden Secretary

Chapter Seven : The Woman in His Past

Elena

The next morning, Elena found Lucien standing in the rain.

Not outside the company.

Outside her apartment.

She stopped halfway down the stairs.

He stood beside a black car, one hand in his coat pocket, the other holding an umbrella.

His expression was unreadable.

"What are you doing here?"

"You're late."

She glanced at her watch.

"I'm not due at work for another twenty minutes."

"I know."

"Then why are you here?"

His eyes moved over her face.

"Get in the car."

"No."

"Elena."

"You're my boss, not my owner."

Something almost resembling amusement appeared in his eyes.

"Get in."

She folded her arms.

"Why?"

"Because someone entered your apartment again."

Her blood went cold.

"What?"

"Nothing was stolen."

"Then what happened?"

"Your bedroom window was open."

Elena looked toward her apartment.

"I locked it."

"I know."

"How?"

"I checked."

She stared at him.

"You went inside my apartment?"

"I did."

"Without my permission?"

"Yes."

"Lucien—"

"Someone left something."

He held out a small envelope.

Elena's heart began pounding.

"What is it?"

"Open it."

She took the envelope.

Inside was a photograph.

Her fingers trembled.

It showed a young woman standing beside a hospital bed.

Seraphina.

Her mother.

But there was another woman in the photograph.

Beautiful.

Blonde.

Pale.

She was sitting beside Lucien.

Elena looked at him.

"Who is she?"

His expression changed.

"Someone from my past."

"Your girlfriend?"

"No."

"Your wife?"

"No."

"Then who?"

Lucien took the photograph from her.

"Her name was Camille."

Elena watched him.

The way his fingers tightened around the photograph told her the woman had mattered.

A lot.

"What happened to her?"

Lucien looked away.

"She died."

"When?"

"Seven years ago."

Elena's chest tightened.

"How?"

"An accident."

She didn't believe him.

"You don't look like someone who lost a person in an accident."

His eyes met hers.

"How do I look?"

"Like someone who blames himself."

For several seconds, Lucien said nothing.

Then he opened the car door.

"Get in."

This time, Elena did.

---

Lucien

He hated talking about Camille.

Not because he still loved her.

Because he hated remembering what happened.

Seven years ago, Camille had been the only person who knew the truth about his family.

She had discovered something in his father's private records.

Something she should never have found.

The night before she died, she called Lucien.

We need to talk.

He had been in a board meeting.

He told her he'd call later.

He never did.

She died that night.

A single-car accident.

No witnesses.

No evidence of sabotage.

The police called it an accident.

Lucien never believed them.

He had spent seven years searching for the truth.

And now Elena had appeared.

With the same pendant.

The same birthday.

The same connection to his family.

It couldn't be coincidence.

"Why are you staring at me?" Elena asked.

Lucien realized he had been looking at her through the rearview mirror.

"I'm thinking."

"About Camille?"

He didn't answer.

Elena looked out the window.

"Did you love her?"

The question shouldn't have affected him.

It did.

"Once."

"Why did it end?"

"She died."

"I mean before that."

Lucien's hands tightened around the steering wheel.

"We were going to get married."

Elena turned toward him.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"What happened?"

"She found out something."

"What?"

"Something about my family."

Elena was silent.

Lucien continued.

"She wanted me to leave Voss International."

"Why?"

"She said the company was destroying me."

"Was she right?"

He looked at Elena.

"Yes."

She looked down.

"Did you ever tell her you loved her?"

Lucien's voice was quiet.

"Every day."

Elena didn't speak again.

Neither did he.

---

Elena

The car stopped outside Voss International.

Lucien remained seated.

"There's something you need to understand."

Elena looked at him.

"About Camille?"

"About me."

She waited.

"I don't love easily."

"I noticed."

"I don't trust easily either."

"Also noticed."

His expression hardened.

"But when I do..."

He paused.

"I don't let go."

Elena's heart skipped.

She looked away.

"That's supposed to reassure me?"

"No."

"Good."

She opened the door.

"Elena."

She stopped.

"Be careful with me."

She looked back.

"Why?"

"Because I don't know how to love without destroying things."

Her breath caught.

Before she could answer, he turned away.

"Go to work."

---

Elena

By noon, Elena had barely accomplished anything.

She couldn't stop thinking about Camille.

Not because she was jealous.

She told herself she wasn't.

But because Camille was clearly important.

And more importantly—

Camille had known something about Lucien's family.

Something that had gotten her killed.

Elena searched through old news archives.

She found the article within minutes.

CAMPAIGN HEIRESS DIES IN LATE-NIGHT CRASH

Camille Laurent.

Twenty-seven years old.

Engaged to Lucien Voss.

Died on March 14.

Elena froze.

March 14.

Again.

She continued reading.

The accident occurred at 11:48 p.m.

The exact same night Lucien's father died seventeen years earlier.

The same date Elena was born.

Elena's hands went cold.

There was another detail.

Camille's final phone call had been to Lucien.

At 11:32 p.m.

Sixteen minutes before her death.

Elena stared at the screen.

Someone had been killing people connected to the truth.

Her mother.

Lucien's father.

Camille.

And now—

perhaps her.

She closed the article.

Then noticed something.

The article included a photograph of Camille's car.

There was a small sticker on the windshield.

A serpent wrapped around a crown.

The Voss symbol.

Elena's heart pounded.

Camille had been investigating the Voss family.

And she had died on the same night.

---

Lucien

"She's looking into Camille."

Lucien looked up.

Mara stood across from him.

"Who?"

"Elena."

He frowned.

"How do you know?"

"She accessed the archive."

Lucien stood.

"Which one?"

"Camille Laurent."

His expression changed.

"How?"

"Through the old press database."

Lucien walked toward the window.

"She's getting too close."

Mara was silent.

"Do you want me to stop her?"

"No."

"Lucien."

"Let her investigate."

Mara frowned.

"Why?"

"Because if she finds something, I need to know what it is."

Mara nodded.

Then stopped.

"There's something else."

"What?"

"Someone accessed the same archive last night."

Lucien turned.

"Who?"

"The account belonged to you."

He stared at her.

"I didn't access it."

Mara's face went pale.

"Then someone has your credentials."

Lucien immediately reached for his phone.

His security system had been compromised.

Again.

Someone wasn't just watching Elena.

They were inside Voss International.

---

Elena

At 6:00 p.m., Elena received an email.

No subject.

No sender.

Only an attachment.

She opened it.

A video.

She pressed play.

The image was grainy.

A hospital room.

A woman lying unconscious.

Seraphina.

Elena leaned closer.

A man stood beside the bed.

Alexander Voss.

And beside him—

a young Lucien.

Seven years old.

Elena watched.

Alexander placed something into the child's hand.

The silver pendant.

Young Lucien stared at it.

Then Alexander said something.

The audio was barely audible.

Elena increased the volume.

"This child will change everything."

The video continued.

A second voice entered.

A woman's.

Seraphina.

Weak.

Terrified.

"You promised you wouldn't hurt her."

Alexander replied:

"I never promised she would live."

Elena covered her mouth.

The video ended.

She sat frozen.

Then another file appeared.

A photograph.

Lucien at seven years old.

Standing outside the hospital.

Holding the pendant.

Beside him was a newborn baby.

The face had been blurred.

Elena stared.

A message appeared beneath it.

Ask Lucien who the baby was.

Her phone slipped from her hand.

---

Lucien

The office door opened.

Elena walked in.

He immediately knew something was wrong.

Her face was pale.

Her eyes were full of something he couldn't identify.

Fear.

Anger.

Betrayal.

"What happened?"

She dropped the photograph onto his desk.

Lucien looked down.

His blood turned cold.

He knew the image.

He had spent years trying to forget it.

"Where did you get this?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes."

"Who was the baby?"

Lucien stared at the photograph.

"Elena—"

"Who was she?"

He couldn't answer.

"Tell me."

"It isn't what you think."

"Then what is it?"

He looked at her.

"I don't remember."

Her eyes filled with disbelief.

"You don't remember?"

"I was seven."

"You were there."

"Yes."

"You were holding her."

"Yes."

"Your father was there."

"Yes."

"And you expect me to believe you don't know who she was?"

Lucien stepped closer.

"I remember pieces."

"Tell me."

He closed his eyes.

A room.

A baby crying.

His father's voice.

His mother's tears.

A woman screaming.

Blood.

Then darkness.

"I remember my father telling me to forget."

"Forget what?"

"I don't know."

Elena stepped back.

"You're lying."

"I'm not."

"Then why does everyone connected to your family keep dying?"

He stared at her.

"What?"

"Your father. Camille. My mother disappeared."

Lucien's expression hardened.

"Don't put my father and Camille in the same category."

"Why?"

"Because Camille was murdered."

Silence.

Elena stared at him.

"You said it was an accident."

"I lied."

Her heart sank.

"Why?"

"Because I didn't want you involved."

"You don't get to decide that."

"I do when your life is at stake."

"No."

She stepped closer.

"You don't get to protect me by lying to me."

Lucien looked at her.

Something broke inside him.

"I'm afraid."

Elena froze.

He had never said those words.

Not to her.

Not to anyone.

Lucien's voice became quiet.

"I'm afraid that everyone who gets close to me dies."

Elena's anger weakened.

She looked at him.

"Then why keep me close?"

His eyes met hers.

"I don't know."

The silence between them became unbearable.

Elena whispered:

"Maybe because you don't want to lose me."

Lucien stepped toward her.

"No."

"Then what?"

He stopped inches away.

"Because I've already lost too many people."

Her eyes filled with tears.

"And you think I'm next?"

"I think someone wants you to be."

She stared at him.

"Who?"

Lucien's phone rang.

He answered.

Adrian.

Lucien's expression immediately changed.

"What?"

Adrian's voice came through.

"Your father didn't die on March 14."

Lucien froze.

"What?"

"He died the day before."

Lucien's eyes widened.

"That's impossible."

"I know."

"Then why does every record say March 14?"

"Because someone changed the time of death."

"Why?"

Adrian paused.

"Because the baby was born after your father died."

Lucien's gaze slowly moved toward Elena.

Adrian continued:

"And Lucien..."

"Yes?"

"The baby wasn't your sister."

A pause.

"She was your daughter."

Lucien stopped breathing.

The phone slipped from his hand.

Elena stared at him.

"What did he say?"

Lucien looked at her.

His face was completely drained of color.

He whispered:

"Elena..."

She waited.

His voice broke.

"The baby in that photograph..."

He couldn't finish.

Then his phone rang again.

A message from Adrian appeared.

You have been searching for the wrong woman for seventeen years.

Another message followed.

The baby survived.

And beneath it:

She is Elena Vale.