EVERYONE WANTS EVELYN VALE

Where She Died

The drive into town was wrapped in thick, suffocating silence.

Mara sat beside Evelyn in the plush leather back seat of the car, watching the jagged coastline slowly recede behind them. Neither woman spoke a word about what had just transpired in the conservatory not Julian’s desperate, heart-wrenching confession, not the searing touch of Evelyn’s hand against Mara’s cheek, and certainly not the reckless, terrifying second where Mara had wanted nothing more than to close the distance between their lips.

Dressed in a tailored charcoal coat with her dark hair pinned neatly away from her face, Evelyn stared out the window, looking entirely unfazed by the storm brewing around them. Mara found her composure intensely frustrating.

“Are you always this quiet?” Mara asked, breaking the silence.

Evelyn offered a slow, sideways glance. “Are you always this curious?”

“Usually.”

“That must be exhausting.”

“Only for people with something to hide.”

The corner of Evelyn’s mouth twitched upward. Mara caught the subtle shift and quickly turned her gaze back out the window before her own smile could betray her.

A few quiet miles passed before Evelyn spoke again, her voice low against the hum of the engine. “You haven’t asked about Julian.”

Mara looked back at her. “Should I?”

“You’ve been thinking about him since yesterday.”

“I’ve been thinking about what happened to your mother,” Mara countered smoothly.

“That’s not what I asked.”

Mara folded her arms across her chest. “Do you love him?”

Evelyn turned her focus back to the passing trees. “Yes.”

An unpleasant, heavy knot settled deep in Mara’s stomach. But before the feeling could sink in, Evelyn continued softly, “But loving someone and wanting to spend the rest of your life with them are two entirely different things.”

Mara studied the side profile of her face. “Does Julian know that?”

“He does now.”

“And he accepts it?”

Evelyn looked directly into Mara’s eyes, a rare, quiet tragedy lurking in her expression. “No.”

Mara looked away again, forcing her pulse to settle. She reminded herself sternly that she had been sent to Black Glass House to untangle an inheritance scheme, not to navigate Evelyn Vale’s complicated heart. Yet lately, the boundaries between her assignment and her own desires were dissolving completely.

The car slowed to a smooth crawl, the tires crunching over wet gravel. Evelyn sat up straighter. “We’re here.”

Mara peered through the rain-streaked glass. Beyond a towering iron gate sat a sprawling, quiet cemetery perched at the edge of the coastal town. She frowned. “You brought me to a graveyard?”

“My mother is buried here,” Evelyn said simply.

Mara followed her through the rusted gates. The morning rain had tapered off, leaving the grass slick and muddy beneath their boots. Evelyn walked ahead without hesitation, navigating the winding stone paths with the quiet familiarity of someone who had made this pilgrimage a thousand times before.

She finally halted before a simple, weather-worn marble headstone inscribed with a single name: ELENA VALE.

Standing beside the grave, Evelyn lost the sharp, calculating aura of the Black Glass heiress. She looked remarkably young, small, and fragile against the gray sky.

“She died when I was seventeen,” Evelyn murmured.

“I know.”

“Do you?” Evelyn asked softly, her eyes glued to the weeping stone. “People say she died in an accident.”

Mara stepped up beside her, waiting. “Wasn’t it?”

Evelyn slowly shook her head. “No.”

The single word fell so softly that the sea wind almost stole it away. Mara felt a sudden chill run down her spine. “What really happened?”

Evelyn turned her head, meeting Mara’s searching look. “My mother was preparing to leave my uncle. She found out what he was doing with my father’s company.”

“What was he doing?”

“I don’t know,” Evelyn admitted quietly.

Mara’s brow furrowed. “You don’t know? You remember every other detail of your life back then.”

“Yes,” Evelyn said, her voice chillingly flat. “Because someone made sure I wouldn’t remember that.”

“What does that mean, Evelyn?”

Evelyn offered no explanation. Instead, she stepped forward and knelt on the wet earth beside the monument, her gloved fingers gently tracing the carved lettering of her mother’s name. “My mother left me something before she died.”

Mara glanced around the empty graveyard, the tall pines rustling overhead. “Where?”

“That’s why we came into town.” Evelyn stood up and walked behind the headstone, stopping near a small, weathered stone bench tucked into the hedge. She crouched down, her hand reaching deep into the dark gap beneath the seat, and pulled out a small, tarnished brass key.

Mara stared at it in disbelief. “You hid that here?”

“Not me. My mother gave it to me three days before she died.”

Mara’s stomach tightened. “Why didn’t you turn it over to the police years ago?”

“Because she made me promise not to,” Evelyn whispered. “She knew I was the only person in that house she could trust.”

Mara’s expression softened, a sudden ache of sympathy washing over her. “What does the key open?”

Evelyn slipped the cold brass key into her coat pocket. “That’s what we’re going to find out.”

They left the cemetery shortly after, the car navigating deeper into the heart of the town until Evelyn instructed the driver to pull up beside an old, narrow brick building squeezed tightly between two modern shopfronts. Its windows were caked in years of grime, looking entirely abandoned.

“What is this place?” Mara asked, stepping onto the damp pavement.

“My mother’s old private office. The family owned the building, but this room was strictly hers.” Evelyn unlocked the heavy oak door with a quiet click.

Inside, the air was thick with the smell of stagnant dust and aged paper. A heavy desk sat in the center of the room, flanked by rusted filing cabinets, a shattered desk lamp, and stacked cardboard boxes warping against the back wall.

Mara stepped carefully inside, her eyes scanning the shadows. “How long has this place been locked up?”

“Nine years. Nobody comes here anymore.”

“How convenient,” Mara murmured.

Evelyn offered a tiny, dangerous smirk. “You’re learning.”

They spent twenty minutes methodically sifting through the desk drawers and boxes, coming up completely empty. Just as frustration began to set in, Mara’s eyes caught a strange, unnatural scratch carved into the floorboards right where the desk met the wall.

“Wait,” Mara called out, dropping to her knees.

Evelyn hurried over. The floorboards featured a razor-thin, seamless seam. Mara pressed hard against the wood, but it refused to budge. Evelyn knelt right beside her, their shoulders pressing together in the cramped space, and combined their weight to shove the board sideways.

With a stiff groan, a hidden compartment popped open beneath the floorboards, revealing a heavy black metal cash box.

Evelyn went entirely still, her breathing hitching. Mara looked at her face, seeing the sudden terror bleeding through her calm exterior. “Is that it?”

“I... I don’t know.” Evelyn reached a trembling hand toward the handle.

Instinctively, Mara reached out and caught her by the wrist. “Wait.”

Evelyn looked down at Mara’s hand wrapping around her sleeve, then slowly lifted her dark eyes to Mara’s face. Mara immediately let go, her cheeks burning. “Sorry. I just... be careful.”

Evelyn’s eyes lingered on her hand, a faint, provocative smile breaking through her fear. “You touch me a lot, Miss Bell.”

“You’re imagining things.”

“Am I?”

“Yes.”

Evelyn’s smile deepened, dangerous and intimate. “That’s disappointing.”

Mara stared at her, her heart thumping wildly against her ribs. “You are completely impossible.”

“So I’ve been told.”

For a fleeting, breathless moment, the dark room, the mystery, and the damp cold vanished completely. There was only the heat radiating between them in the cramped space, Mara intensely aware of every detail of Evelyn’s face, the slight part of her lips, the dark intensity of her eyes, the playful challenge lingering in her expression.

Mara forced herself to break the spell, taking a step backward. “Open the box.”

Evelyn’s smirk softened. “Afraid?”

“Curious.”

“Of course you are.”

Evelyn pulled the brass key from her pocket and inserted it into the lock. The mechanism turned with a sharp, echoing click.

Inside lay a stack of yellowed financial documents, a modern black flash drive, and a thick parchment envelope. Written across the front in elegant, faded handwriting was a single word: Evelyn.

Evelyn’s hands began to shake violently. Mara noticed the sudden tremor instantly.

“Do you want me to step outside?” Mara asked gently.

“No!” The answer came out too fast, sharp and desperate. Evelyn looked momentarily embarrassed by the outburst, but Mara merely gave her a reassuring nod.

With trembling fingers, Evelyn broke the wax seal and pulled out the letter. She read the first page, her eyes darting frantically across the lines, then flipped to the second. As she read, every drop of color slowly drained from her face.

“Evelyn? What is it?”

Evelyn didn't answer. She handed the parchment to Mara with a numb, lifeless hand. Mara skimmed the letter, her eyes widening in horror. It detailed an illegal offshore wire transfer ordered nine years ago by Richard Vale a desperate bid to steal his late brother's estate. But it was the terrifying final paragraph that made Mara’s blood run cold: