The ghost's revenge

Chapter 1: The Ghost Returns POV: Seraphina The Moretti mansion looked exactly as I remembered. Marble columns stretched toward the sky and windows glinted like cold eyes watching everything. I stood at the servant's entrance and my hands did not shake. Eleven years ago, I left through the front door with my dying mother and nothing else. Today, I returned as a ghost wearing someone else's face. The guard barely glanced at my forged credentials. Marcus had done his work well. I stepped inside and the familiar scent of expensive flowers and older money filled my lungs. My chest tightened but I forced my breathing to stay calm and steady. "You're the new bodyguard?" A woman in a crisp uniform appeared and her tone suggested I was already disappointed. "Follow me. Mr. Moretti expects his security team to know every corner of this house." I followed her through hallways lined with family portraits. My own face had been painted over in the one group photo that remained. A ghostly blur where a daughter once stood. The sight should have hurt but I had burned through pain years ago and all that remained was ice. We passed the dining room where I once ate a birthday cake alone because my father was too busy for a worthless daughter. We climbed the stairs where Isabella pushed me down when I was twelve and told me accidents happen to girls nobody wanted. Each step brought back memories and I collected them like weapons. "Wait here," the woman said and left me outside a heavy wooden door. I knew this room. My father's study. The place where he signed the papers that erased me from the family. Where he told my mother that I was a failed experiment and we were no longer his concern. The door opened and I prepared to face the man who destroyed my childhood. But the person who emerged was not my father. He was younger and tall and moved with the controlled grace of someone trained for violence. His dark eyes swept over me with an assessment that made my pulse quicken. "The new hire," he said and his voice carried authority and something else I could not quite identify. "I'm Adrian Blackwell. Head of security. You'll report directly to me." I met his gaze and kept my expression neutral. "Understood, sir." "Your references are impressive," he continued and stepped closer. Too close. I could feel the heat from his body and my heightened senses picked up the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "Almost too impressive for someone wanting to work as a bodyguard for a family like the Morettis." Warning bells rang in my head. This man was dangerous and not just because of his physical presence. He saw too much. "I go where the money is," I said and shrugged. "The Morettis pay well." "They do." His eyes never left mine. "As long as you remember where your loyalties lie." I smiled and showed him nothing but polite agreement. "My loyalty is always to whoever signs my paycheck." He studied me for another long moment before nodding. "Report to the security office at six tomorrow morning. We'll see if you're as good as your resume claims." I walked away and felt his gaze following me down the hallway. My first day had barely begun and I had already encountered a complication. Adrian Blackwell was too observant and too intelligent. He would be a problem. But I had not come this far to be stopped by problems. I had been dead for eleven years and ghosts did not scare easily. I reached the end of the hallway and paused at a window overlooking the garden. The fountain in the center still flowed and underneath its base was where I had hidden my mother's last letter to me before we were expelled. The sun set behind the mansion and cast long shadows across the grounds. Somewhere in this house, Isabella lived in luxury. Somewhere, my father conducted a business built on suffering. And somewhere, Daniel breathed air he did not deserve after what he had done. I pressed my palm against the cold glass and made a silent promise. They thought they had buried me. Soon, they would learn that some graves do not hold.