THE FORBIDDEN DEAL

The Lighthouse

Chapter one

Genevieve's POV

The sea was never quiet at night.

I had learned that years ago.

Even when Blackwater Cove fell asleep and the streets emptied, the ocean remained awake, throwing itself against the cliffs with a restless rhythm that could be heard from almost anywhere in town.

Tonight, however, it sounded different.

Angrier.

I tightened my coat around myself as I walked along the narrow coastal road, my boots crunching against the gravel. The wind kept pulling loose strands of my hair across my face, and I pushed them back with an irritated sigh.

I should have been home.

That thought had crossed my mind at least six times in the last twenty minutes.

Yet I kept walking.

My phone vibrated inside my coat pocket.

I stopped beneath a flickering streetlamp and pulled it out.

CLARA: Where are you?

I stared at the message.

I typed quickly.

ME: Almost home.

The lie sat there on my screen.

I hesitated before pressing send.

Clara replied almost immediately.

CLARA: That's what you said twenty minutes ago.

I smiled despite myself.

ME: I'm taking the long way.

Three dots appeared.

Then disappeared.

Then appeared again.

CLARA: At night? Near the cliffs? Vivi, seriously.

I rolled my eyes.

ME: I'll be fine.

I slipped the phone back into my pocket.

That was the problem with Clara.

She worried too much.

Blackwater Cove wasn't exactly dangerous.

At least, that was what people told themselves.

It was an old coastal town, isolated by cliffs on one side and thick woodland on the other. Tourists came during summer for the beaches, the old harbor, and the stories about the abandoned lighthouse.

Locals came and stayed.

Some families had lived here for generations.

The Devereaux family was one of them.

Everyone in Blackwater Cove knew the name.

Devereaux.

It appeared on businesses, buildings, charitable foundations, and old plaques scattered throughout town.

And, most famously, on the enormous estate overlooking the northern cliffs.

I glanced toward the distant hill.

The mansion was barely visible through the fog.

Its upper windows glowed faintly against the darkness.

I quickly looked away.

I had never been inside.

I had never wanted to.

The estate had always seemed less like a home and more like something that belonged to another century.

I continued down the road.

The wind grew colder.

I shoved my hands deeper into my coat pockets.

I had taken this route hundreds of times.

There was nothing to be afraid of.

Nothing.

Then I heard it.

A sound.

I stopped.

My heartbeat quickened.

I listened.

Nothing.

Only the wind.

Only the ocean.

I exhaled slowly.

“Get a grip, Vivi.”

I started walking again.

Then came the sound a second time.

A door slamming.

I froze.

It had come from the direction of the lighthouse.

The abandoned lighthouse.

I stared toward the cliffs.

The structure stood at the edge of the coastline, its tall stone tower barely visible through the fog.

Nobody went there anymore.

At least, nobody sensible.

The lighthouse had been abandoned years ago after a storm damaged part of the structure. The surrounding grounds were supposed to be restricted, although the old fence had more gaps than actual fencing.

I should have kept walking.

I knew that.

Instead, curiosity won.

I turned toward the lighthouse.

“Just five minutes,” I whispered.

I followed the narrow path toward the cliffs.

The ground was slippery from the rain, and I had to steady myself against the old wooden fence as I climbed.

The closer I got, the stronger the wind became.

Then I saw something.

A light.

Not from the lighthouse.

From a car.

A black vehicle sat behind the structure, partially hidden by the trees.

I slowed.

There shouldn't have been a car here.

I crouched behind a low stone wall.

Two men stood near the vehicle.

I couldn't see their faces clearly.

One was tall and dressed in a dark coat.

The other stood with his back to me.

They were arguing.

I couldn't make out everything over the wind.

“...wasn't supposed to happen.”

The taller man said something else.

The second man stepped closer.

I leaned forward.

My pulse began to pound.

Then a third figure appeared.

A man.

He stumbled from behind the lighthouse.

He was holding his side.

I covered my mouth.

The man looked terrified.

He tried to run.

He didn't get far.

One of the men grabbed him.

My eyes widened.

I should leave.

I knew I should.

Every instinct told me to turn around, run down the hill, and call the police.

But my feet wouldn't move.

The struggle lasted only seconds.

Then the man fell.

The world seemed to go silent.

I couldn't breathe.

I stared from behind the wall.

One of the men looked around.

The other bent down.

“Check his phone.”

The man kneeling beside the fallen figure reached into his coat.

My hand trembled as I reached for my phone.

I pulled it out.

Without thinking, I opened the camera.

I took a photograph.

The shutter sound seemed deafening.

Everyone froze.

The tall man slowly lifted his head.

He looked directly toward the wall.

My blood ran cold.

“Did you hear that?”

I ducked.

One of them started walking toward me.

Slow.

Measured.

Getting closer.

My hand flew over my mouth.

Don't breathe.

Don't move.

Don't

My phone vibrated.

I nearly screamed.

I looked down.

A message from Clara.

The footsteps stopped.

Silence.

Then

“Someone's here.”

I closed my eyes.

My mind raced.

I needed to run.

Now.

I carefully lowered myself onto the other side of the stone wall and crawled through the wet grass.

A branch snapped beneath my hand.

The footsteps immediately changed direction.

“Over there.”

I ran.

I didn't think.

I didn't look back.

I sprinted down the path, nearly slipping twice as rain soaked through my shoes.

Behind me, someone shouted.

“Stop!”

I ran faster.

My lungs burned.

The trees blurred around me.

I reached the fence and climbed over it, landing hard on the other side.

My phone slipped from my hand.

I turned.

It lay in the mud several feet away.

“No.”

I ran back.

Footsteps echoed behind me.

Closer.

I grabbed the phone and shoved it into my pocket.

Then I ran toward the road.

A car engine roared behind me.

Headlights flooded the road.

I jumped aside.

The black vehicle sped past.

I stumbled backward, my heart hammering.

For several seconds, I couldn't move.

Then the vehicle disappeared into the fog.

I looked at my phone.

The photograph was still there.

Blurry.

Dark.

But clear enough.

Three men.

One on the ground.

And behind them, partially illuminated by the headlights, was something that made my stomach drop.

A familiar face.

I zoomed in.

My breath caught.

“No…”

I recognized him.

Everyone in Blackwater Cove did.

Elias Devereaux.

Damien Devereaux's cousin.

I stared at the photograph.

Why was Elias there?

And who was the man on the ground?

My phone vibrated.

This time, it wasn't Clara.

It was an unknown number.

I stared at the screen.

A message appeared.

You should not have been there.

My blood ran cold.

Another message arrived.

Delete the photograph.

My fingers went numb.

I looked toward the road.

Empty.

The fog had swallowed everything.

Another message.

Now.

I backed away.

Someone knew.

Someone had seen me.

I opened the photograph again.

My thumb hovered over the delete icon.

Then I stopped.

“No.”

I wasn't deleting anything.

I quickly sent the photograph to Clara.

ME: Don't ask questions. Save this somewhere safe.

Her reply came almost instantly.

CLARA: Vivi, what the hell is this?

I didn't answer.

I started walking.

No.

Running.

I needed somewhere crowded.

Somewhere safe.

I kept my phone tightly in my hand.

Every passing shadow made me flinch.

Every sound behind me made me look back.

Nobody was there.

At least, nobody I could see.

When I finally reached the outskirts of town, I slowed.

The familiar lights of Blackwater Cove appeared through the fog.

I almost cried with relief.

Then my phone vibrated again.

Unknown number.

You think you're safe because you reached the town?

I stopped walking.

My eyes moved across the empty street.

A café was closing nearby.

A few lights remained on in the windows.

People were still around.

I should have felt safe.

I didn't.

Another message.

Ask yourself why Elias Devereaux was at the lighthouse.

I swallowed.

I looked toward the northern cliffs.

The Devereaux Estate was hidden somewhere beyond the fog.

I had spent years avoiding that place.

Now I couldn't stop thinking about it.

A final message appeared.

And ask yourself why Damien Devereaux already knows your name.

I stared at the screen.

My heart stopped.

I had never met Damien Devereaux.

Not properly.

I had seen him around town, perhaps once or twice from a distance. Everyone knew who he was, but he had never spoken to me.

So how did he know my name?

The phone slipped slightly in my hand.

A car passed at the end of the street.

I watched it disappear.

Then I looked back at the screen.

The message remained.

Damien Devereaux knows your name.

For the first time that night, I realized something much worse than being followed.

The people at the lighthouse weren't strangers.

This wasn't random.

And somehow, I had already been part of their plan.

I turned toward home.

But before I could take another step, a dark sedan pulled quietly to the curb beside me.

The passenger window lowered.

I froze.

A man sat behind the wheel.

He didn't get out.

He simply looked at me.

Then he said four words that made the blood drain from my face.

“Damien wants to see you.”