Temptation

Chapter Five – The Ghost Room

Cassio hadn’t brought a woman into this part of the house since Sofia died.

He hadn’t even opened the door himself.

Now he stood in the hallway, every light off except for the sconce near the far end. The silence here was deeper. Almost sacred. The polished floor reflected Julia’s hesitant footsteps as she followed him, one hand trailing against the wallpaper like she was afraid to disturb the air.

“I didn’t mean to pry,” she said softly. “Luna mentioned something earlier… about ghosts.”

Cassio turned his head slightly. “She calls it the Ghost Room.”

Julia stopped walking. “Is it Sofia’s?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he reached into his pocket, drew out a silver key, and unlocked the door at the end of the hall. It opened with a reluctant creak, as if the hinges hadn’t moved in years.

He stepped Inside first.

The room was preserved like a mausoleum. Not cold, but untouched. A faint trace of lavender still hung in the air—Sofia’s favorite scent. The bed was made perfectly, the curtains drawn halfway, the bookshelf lined with half-read novels and framed photographs. One of Cassio, another of the kids. And one of her—Sofia in a white sundress, laughing mid-spin, her hair catching the wind.

Julia stood at the threshold, eyes wide, chest tight. “You haven’t changed anything.”

“I couldn’t,” Cassio murmured. “Every time I tried, Luna cried for hours. Mateo shut down completely. So I let it be.”

She stepped in, cautiously, reverently. Her fingers drifted across the vanity, the chair, the edge of the bedspread.

“It’s… peaceful,” she said.

Cassio said nothing.

Then, Julia’s gaze landed on the dresser. A picture frame faced down. Curious, she reached toward it.

Cassio moved faster than she expected—his hand catching her wrist.

“Don’t.”

The word was sharp. Final.

Julia froze. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to—”

He released her wrist gently. “Some things are better left buried.”

She nodded, eyes searching his. “Why did you bring me here?”

Cassio didn’t answer right away. He stepped to the window and looked out, the lights of Brighton winking below like distant stars.

“Because I needed to know,” he said quietly. “If you belonged in this house.”

Julia’s voice was barely a whisper. “And?”

He turned to her. The shadows softened the sharp lines of his face, but his eyes were sharper than ever.

“I still don’t know.”

Later that night, after Julia left and the kids were asleep, Cassio poured himself a drink.

The house was too quiet again.

He sat in the study, staring into the fire that barely crackled in the hearth. Shadows danced across the old rug, and in the silence, his thoughts turned to Lucas.

Lucas had called earlier, but Cassio ignored it. He didn’t feel like explaining the tightness in his chest every time Julia smiled. Or how his daughter had taken to her with almost eerie ease. Or how something in his gut twisted with every step deeper she took into his world.

His phone buzzed again. This time, he picked it up.

Lucas: You need to check something. It’s about the foundation. Don’t ignore this.

Cassio frowned. He opened the attachment.

It was a list of recent transfers—donations funneled through a small shelter Julia mentioned working with. A trail of funding anomalies, subtle but distinct. Money redirected. Timelines overlapping with her visits. Names Cassio didn’t recognize. Or rather—names he hadn’t thought about in a long time.

His blood turned cold.

There were connections here. Not to Julia, but around her. And the name that appeared twice, embedded in the footnote of a private endowment?

Arlo Vandyke.

Cassio stood up so fast the whiskey glass tipped and shattered on the floor.

Across town, Julia sat curled on her couch, laptop open, trying to type up a report but getting nowhere. Her mind kept drifting—to the Ghost Room, to the look on Cassio’s face when she nearly touched the photo, to the weight in his silence.

She didn’t know what to make of it all. Or of him.

She had never met a man like Cassio Moreira. So composed. So broken. So alive in silence, and yet always a breath away from something darker.

And then, the knock came.

Three short taps.

She blinked. It was nearly midnight.

Another knock. This time harder.

Julia stood, heart suddenly racing. She walked to the door, pressed her eye to the peephole.

Nobody.

She hesitated.

Then, just as she turned back toward the living room—

A loud bang hit the door. Like someone had thrown their full weight against it.

Julia screamed and stumbled backward, knocking over a lamp. Her phone. Where was her phone?

She grabbed it from the coffee table with shaking fingers and dialed Cassio.

Straight to voicemail.

Another bang.

Then silence.

Complete, terrifying silence.

Julia’s breathing grew shallow. She crept toward the door again, this time keeping her back to the wall, her heart pounding in her ears.

She waited.

Nothing.

And then… a whisper. Right outside the door.

“See you soon… Julia.”

Her blood ran cold.

In his office, Cassio redialed Lucas as he paced.

“Why the hell is Arlo Vandyke’s name connected to one of Julia’s shelters?” he demanded the moment Lucas picked up.

“I don’t know yet,” Lucas said. “But it gets worse. He’s made private visits there. Discreet. No press. Donated under pseudonyms.”

Cassio gripped the desk. “Why would he be anywhere near Julia?”

Lucas hesitated. “That’s what we need to find out. But… Cassio, I think it’s intentional. I think Julia’s being watched.”

A chill spread through Cassio’s chest.

Then his phone lit up with a call.

Julia.

He answered instantly. “Are you okay?”

Her voice was shaking. “Someone was at my door.”

“What?”

“They knocked—then they hit it. I—I heard them whisper my name. I swear to God, Cassio, someone was watching me.”

Cassio was already grabbing his keys. “I’m coming to you. Right now. Don’t open the door for anyone. Not even me until I call you from outside.”

“Hurry,” she whispered.

Then the line went dead.