The warning
1791 Words
Chapter Seven
Genevieve's POV
I couldn't take my eyes off the envelope.
Do not trust the Devereaux heir.
My father's handwriting.
I knew it.
I'd seen it on birthday cards, grocery lists, old notes he'd left on the kitchen counter when I was younger.
There was no mistake.
My fingers tightened around the paper.
“Why would my father write this?”
Damien didn't answer.
“Damien.”
He looked at me.
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
His expression remained unreadable.
“You've said that before.”
“And you keep giving me reasons to.”
I stepped away from him, clutching the letter against my chest.
My father had trusted almost no one.
If he'd gone through the trouble of hiding a message inside Damien's father's room, then this wasn't something I could dismiss.
“What happened between our families?”
Damien looked toward the open doorway.
“Not here.”
“Why?”
“Because someone is still inside the estate.”
I stared at him.
“You think they'll hear us?”
“I know they can.”
The words sent a chill through me.
Damien took the envelope from my hand.
“Give me that.”
“No.”
“Genevieve.”
“My father wrote it to me.”
“And whoever broke into this room was probably looking for it.”
I hesitated.
He wasn't wrong.
Reluctantly, I handed it over.
Damien slipped it into the inside pocket of his jacket.
“We're leaving.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere safer.”
“Is there anywhere safe in this house?”
His eyes met mine.
“Not anymore.”
We stepped into the corridor.
Elias was waiting near the staircase.
His expression immediately told me something had happened.
“What?”
He looked at Damien.
“Two guards are missing.”
My stomach dropped.
“Missing?”
“They were stationed at the east entrance.”
“Are they dead?” I asked.
“We don't know.”
Damien's jaw tightened.
“Lock the entire property.”
“Already doing it.”
Elias glanced at me.
“There's something else.”
“What?”
“The security footage from the last fifteen minutes has been erased.”
Damien's face hardened.
“Can you recover it?”
“I'm trying.”
“Try faster.”
Elias nodded and walked away.
I watched him disappear.
Then I turned toward Damien.
“You knew my father.”
“Yes.”
“How well?”
“Not well enough.”
“That isn't an answer.”
He sighed.
“My father knew him better than I did.”
“And they were working together?”
“Sometimes.”
“On what?”
Damien remained silent.
I felt my patience disappear.
“My father died four years ago. I spent those years believing it was an accident. Tonight I find out it wasn't, and now you're telling me he was involved with your family?”
“I said your father's death wasn't an accident.”
“Then tell me the truth.”
Damien looked at me for a long moment.
“My father believed Julian discovered something at the lighthouse.”
“What?”
“A ledger.”
I frowned.
“A ledger?”
“A record of payments, names, and transactions.”
“Between who?”
“People who weren't supposed to be connected.”
“Your family?”
“Yes.”
The answer hit harder than I expected.
I stepped backward.
“My father found evidence against your family?”
“Possibly.”
“And your father tried to stop him?”
“I don't know.”
“You don't know?”
“My father died before I could ask him.”
Silence settled between us.
For the first time, Damien looked less like the untouchable man I'd met downstairs and more like someone carrying an old wound.
I almost felt sorry for him.
Almost.
Then I remembered the letter.
Do not trust the Devereaux heir.
“Why should I stay here?”
“You shouldn't.”
I blinked.
“What?”
“If you had somewhere safe to go, I'd tell you to leave.”
“Then why am I still here?”
“Because whoever came after you tonight knows where you live.”
He stepped closer.
“And until we know why, leaving this estate would make you an easier target.”
I hated that his reasoning made sense.
“I don't trust you.”
“I know.”
“But you're still going to protect me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
He looked directly into my eyes.
“Because I gave you my word.”
Something about the way he said it made my chest tighten.
Before I could respond, Elias returned.
He was holding a small object.
“We found this outside the eastern gate.”
Damien took it.
A silver lighter.
I recognized it immediately.
My father had one just like it.
My heart stopped.
“Where did you get that?”
“Near the tire tracks,” Elias said.
I reached for it.
Damien hesitated before handing it to me.
I turned it over.
There was an engraving on the bottom.
J.M.
My father's initials.
“No.”
I stared at it.
“This belonged to my father.”
Damien's eyes darkened.
“Are you sure?”
“I gave it to him for his birthday.”
My voice broke.
“He had it the night he died.”
Damien and Elias exchanged a look.
I noticed.
“What?”
Neither answered.
“What?”
Damien finally spoke.
“If your father had this with him when he died…”
He stopped.
“Finish the sentence.”
His eyes remained on mine.
“Then someone who was at the scene of his death had it afterward.”
The room seemed to spin.
My father hadn't simply died.
Someone had been there.
Someone had taken his lighter.
And somehow, four years later, that same object had appeared outside Damien's estate.
I looked down at the initials.
Then toward the dark hallway.
Someone wasn't just trying to frighten me.
They were showing me that they knew exactly what happened to my father.
And they wanted me to keep searching.
A soft sound came from behind us.
A phone vibrating.
We all turned.
It wasn't mine.
It wasn't Damien's.
It was coming from the abandoned room.
Elias immediately reached for the door.
Damien stopped him.
“Wait.”
The vibration continued.
Once.
Twice.
Then silence.
Damien slowly opened the door.
An old phone lay on the desk.
The screen was glowing.
One new message.
Damien picked it up.
His expression changed.
“What does it say?” I asked.
He looked at me.
Then turned the screen toward me.
There was only one sentence.
ASK GENEVIÈVE WHAT HER FATHER HID FROM HER.
I stared at the words.
“I don't know what he hid.”
Damien's eyes remained on me.
And somehow, I knew he didn't believe me.
The phone vibrated again.
Another message appeared.
This time, it contained a photograph.
A photograph of my childhood home.
Taken from across the street.
On the back of the image was a handwritten date.
Three days before my father's death.
I looked at Damien.
Someone had been watching my family long before I ever knew they existed.
And suddenly, the warning in my father's letter didn't feel like protection anymore.
It felt like a clue.
A clue telling me exactly where to look.
At Damien.
I looked at Damien.
Someone had been watching my family long before I ever knew they existed.
And suddenly, I didn't know whether I wanted answers anymore.
But I needed them.
“Damien,” I said quietly.
He turned.
“Where did you get the photograph?”
“Which one?”
“The one of my house.”
His expression changed.
“I didn't.”
“Then who did?”
“I don't know.”
I studied his face, searching for the smallest sign that he was lying.
Nothing.
That somehow made it worse.
I walked back toward the desk and picked up the photograph again.
The figure beneath the tree was barely visible, but something about their posture felt familiar.
Not the person.
The place.
I had seen that exact spot many times growing up.
My father used to stand beneath that tree whenever he wanted privacy.
“Could this person have been watching my father?”
“Yes.”
“Or me?”
Damien didn't answer.
I looked at him.
“Say it.”
“It's possible.”
A cold feeling settled in my stomach.
“How long?”
“I don't know.”
“But someone has been watching my family.”
“Genevieve”
“No.” I shook my head. “I need the truth.”
He stepped closer.
“So do I.”
Our eyes met.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then footsteps sounded somewhere downstairs.
Damien immediately turned toward the door.
Elias appeared moments later.
“We found something.”
Damien's expression hardened.
“What?”
Elias held up a small black object.
“A recording device.”
My heart stopped.
“Where was it?”
“In the hallway outside Genevieve's room.”
I stared at it.
Someone had been listening to me.
Listening to Damien.
Listening to everything we'd said.
“How long has it been there?” I asked.
“Hard to tell,” Elias replied. “But the battery is still active.”
Damien's face became unreadable.
“Destroy it.”
Elias nodded.
“No.”
Both men looked at me.
I stepped forward.
“Don't destroy it.”
Damien frowned.
“Why?”
“Because if someone planted it, they might have recorded something useful.”
Elias glanced at Damien.
“She has a point.”
Damien looked at me for several seconds.
Then he nodded.
“Take it to the security room. See what you can recover.”
Elias left.
I looked at Damien.
“Someone is listening to us.”
“Yes.”
“And my father knew something.”
“Yes.”
“And your family is connected to it.”
His silence was answer enough.
I folded my father's letter and placed it carefully inside my pocket.
“Then I'm going to find out what happened.”
Damien's eyes narrowed.
“So am I.”
I didn't know whether that made me feel safer or more afraid.
But as I looked at him, one thing became clear.
Whatever had started four years ago had never really ended.
It had simply been waiting for me to come back.
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