Echoes of the Heart

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Chapter 8: Confrontation

Emma’s Point of View

The storm had rolled in overnight, casting a gloom over Everdawn House. Rain drummed against the tall windows, and distant thunder rumbled like a warning. It suited my mood.

I hadn’t slept.

I had spent the night poring over my father’s records, piecing together fragments of a puzzle that didn’t make sense. The hidden room, the financial records, Callum’s name appearing again and again—it all led to one conclusion.

He wasn’t just here by coincidence.

He had a history with my father.

And I was going to find out what it was.

The study door creaked as I pushed it open, and I stepped into the dimly lit hallway. The mansion was unnervingly silent, save for the occasional whistle of wind through the old window frames. I knew exactly where to find him.

I made my way to the eastern wing, where I had last seen Callum. My heart pounded with a mixture of anger and anticipation.

I needed answers.

And I wasn’t leaving without them.

---

I found him in the old parlor, standing by the fireplace.

A single lamp cast flickering shadows across the room, illuminating the worn leather furniture and antique paintings that lined the walls. Callum’s broad frame was turned away from me, his posture relaxed, as if he had been expecting me.

I clenched my fists.

“I know you took something from the study,” I said, my voice steady despite the storm raging inside me.

Callum didn’t move for a moment. Then, slowly, he turned to face me. His sharp blue eyes held a flicker of amusement, but there was something else beneath it—something unreadable.

“Good morning to you too,” he said, crossing his arms.

I stepped closer. “Don’t play games with me. I found the ledgers. Your name is in them. My father was paying you.”

His expression didn’t change, but I saw the briefest flicker of something in his gaze.

I pressed on. “Who are you, Callum? And what were you doing in that hidden room?”

For a moment, silence stretched between us, heavy and unyielding. Then, Callum sighed and leaned against the mantel.

“You’ve been busy,” he said.

I narrowed my eyes. “Don’t dodge the question.”

He studied me, as if debating how much to say.

Finally, he spoke. “Your father and I had… an arrangement.”

I scoffed. “That much I gathered. But what kind of arrangement? And why keep it a secret?”

Callum hesitated. “Because some secrets were meant to stay buried.”

My frustration boiled over. “Well, my father is dead, and I’ve been left to clean up the mess. So, if you know something, you’d better start talking.”

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his dark hair. “Emma, I don’t think you understand what you’re getting yourself into.”

I lifted my chin. “Then explain it to me.”

Callum stared at me for a long moment before finally speaking. “Your father… wasn’t the man you thought he was.”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut.

I took a shaky breath. “What does that mean?”

Callum’s expression darkened. “It means Everdawn House holds more than just history. It holds secrets. Dangerous ones.”

I swallowed hard, my pulse racing. “And you? Where do you fit into all of this?”

His jaw tightened. “I was… part of those secrets.”

A shiver ran down my spine.

Before I could press further, he pushed off the mantel and stepped toward me. “You should leave, Emma. Walk away from this.”

I met his gaze, unyielding. “Not until I have the truth.”

The storm raged outside, lightning illuminating the room for a brief second.

And in that moment, I realized one thing.

Callum wasn’t just hiding something.

He was protecting something.

And I needed to find out what.

***************

The storm had passed, leaving behind a damp chill that clung to the air. I had barely slept, my mind tangled in Callum’s cryptic warnings. My father wasn’t the man I thought he was. The weight of those words pressed against me like an invisible force, making it impossible to think of anything else.

But work waited for no one, and Everdawn House needed attention. I had just finished assessing the damages in the east corridor when the distant sound of an approaching vehicle cut through the silence.

I frowned. No one came to Everdawn uninvited.

Dropping my notebook on a nearby table, I moved toward the front door. The gravel driveway was slick with rain, glistening under the weak morning sunlight. Parked at the estate’s gate was a sleek black car, the kind that didn’t belong in a place like this—too polished, too expensive, too purposeful.

The driver’s side door opened, and a man stepped out.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, and carried himself with the air of someone used to getting what he wanted. His coat, finely tailored, hugged his frame in a way that spoke of wealth. Dark brown hair neatly styled, sharp green eyes scanning the estate with a look that was both assessing and familiar.

When his gaze landed on me, a slow smile curved his lips.

“Emma Sinclair?” His voice was smooth, controlled.

I hesitated. “Who’s asking?”

He stepped closer, adjusting the cuffs of his coat before extending a hand. “Nate Montgomery. I believe we have some things to discuss.”

I didn’t take his hand.

The name tickled something at the back of my mind, but I couldn’t place it.

I crossed my arms. “I wasn’t expecting any visitors.”

He let out a small chuckle. “No, I imagine you weren’t. But I figured it was time we met. I have an interest in Everdawn House.”

A flicker of unease passed through me. “And what interest would that be?”

His gaze shifted past me, surveying the mansion with something that looked like recognition.

“Let’s just say my family has a history with this place,” he said smoothly.

Before I could question him further, a voice cut through the air like a blade.

“You shouldn’t be here, Montgomery.”

I turned sharply.

Callum stood at the base of the grand staircase, his expression carefully blank, but there was tension in his posture—his hands curled into fists at his sides.

Nate smirked, his green eyes gleaming with something almost amused.

“Ah, Callum,” he drawled. “Still playing the loyal watchdog, I see.”

The air in the room shifted, thick with something unspoken.

I looked between them. They knew each other. And it was not friendly.

Callum stepped forward, his voice low and controlled. “Turn around and leave, Montgomery. You don’t belong here.”

Nate exhaled, tilting his head slightly. “That’s funny, considering you don’t belong here either.”

Callum’s jaw tightened.

I took a step back, suddenly feeling like an outsider in my own home. “Would someone like to explain what the hell is going on?”

Neither of them looked at me.

Nate took another step inside, brushing invisible dust from his sleeve. “I was wondering when I’d finally run into you again. Last I heard, you were lying low after… well, you know.”

Callum’s entire body stiffened.

I had never seen him look this angry.

“That’s none of your concern,” Callum bit out.

“Oh, but it is.” Nate’s voice lowered, turning almost taunting. “See, I don’t particularly like it when loose ends start showing up where they don’t belong. And you, Callum, are a very dangerous loose end.”

My stomach twisted.

“Someone needs to start explaining.” I forced the words out, hating how my voice wavered slightly. “Callum, how do you know him?”

Nate smiled, but there was nothing friendly about it.

“I’ll tell you exactly who Callum is,” he said. “But I’m afraid you won’t like the answer.”

Callum took a step closer, his voice dropping to a warning growl. “Watch your mouth, Montgomery.”

Nate’s smirk widened. “Or what? You’ll throw a punch? You always did have a short temper.” He glanced at me then, his gaze turning thoughtful. “Does she know, Callum? Does she know who you really are?”

Silence stretched between them.

I could hear my own heartbeat pounding in my ears.

Callum’s breathing was controlled, measured—but there was something dangerous simmering beneath the surface.

“Nate,” he said slowly, “this is not your fight.”

“No,” Nate agreed. “But it’s my business. And I take my business very seriously.”

I looked between them, realization dawning.

This wasn’t just about Everdawn House.

This was personal.

Finally, I turned to Nate, forcing my voice to steady. “Why are you here?”

He met my gaze and, for a brief moment, something flickered in his expression—something almost sympathetic.

Then it was gone.

“I came to warn you,” he said.

A chill ran down my spine.

“Warn me about what?”

His smile faded. “About the man you’ve let into your home.”

I turned to Callum, expecting him to argue, to fight back—to deny it.

But he didn’t say a word.

And that terrified me more than anything.