Elijah’s Warning
The morning air was crisp, sunlight spilling through the tall windows of the mansion’s dining hall. Rory sat at the long wood table, pushing her food around her plate with a fork. She wasn’t hungry. Not after the restless night she’d had. The flash drive she had hidden beneath her mattress was a burning reminder of secrets yet uncovered, and Max’s cryptic warning still echoed in her thoughts.
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The sound of coming footsteps broke her thoughts. She looked up as a familiar figure walked into the room, casual yet deliberate. Elijah. His disarming grin and easy charm didn’t match the tension that seemed to follow him.
“Well, good morning, sisterinlaw,” he drawled, sliding into a chair across from her. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“What are you doing here, Elijah?” Rory asked sharply, sitting up straighter.
“Is that any way to greet family?” He leaned back, his gaze sweeping over her. “Relax. I’m just here for a nice chat.”
“You don’t do friendly,” Rory shot back. “So, why don’t you skip the act and tell me what you really want?”
Elijah’s grin widened, but his eyes darkened, showing the edge beneath his polished exterior. “You’re sharp, I’ll give you that. But let me give you some advice, Rory. In this house, interest is a dangerous game.”
Her stomach tightened, but she refused to let him see her anxiety. “Is that a warning?”
“Call it what you like,” he responded, leaning forward. His tone dropped, the playful lilt replaced by something cooler. “Max isn’t who you think he is. But then again, neither is your family.”
The words hit her like a punch to the gut. She stared at him, her heart racing. “What are you talking about?”
Elijah’s smile returned, but there was no warmth in it. “Do you really think Max brought you into this marriage for love? For business? You’re a pawn in a game that started long before you were even born.”
Rory’s hands clenched under the table. “If you’re trying to scare me, it’s not working.”
“I’m not trying to scare you,” Elijah said. “I’m trying to wake you up. Max isn’t your hero, and your father? He’s not the victim you think he is. The Dumont family has its own skeletons, and trust me, they’re not buried as deep as you’d like to believe.”
Rory’s breath caught, but she forced herself to stay calm. “Why are you telling me this? What do you get out of it?”
Elijah’s expression shifted, a flicker of something genuine breaking through his carefully built mask. “Let’s just say I have my reasons. Consider this a favor. But don’t expect another.”
Before she could press him further, he stood and fixed his jacket. “Be careful, Rory. This house has a way of eating people whole.”
He left as fast as he’d come, leaving Rory sitting alone with her thoughts. Her hunger was gone, replaced by a gnawing sense of unease.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. Rory couldn’t focus on anything, her mind repeating Elijah’s words over and over. Max isn’t who you think he is. Neither is your family.
She found herself wandering the house again, hoping to distract herself from the storm of questions swirling in her head. But every room she entered seemed to echo Elijah’s warning. The cold, indifferent walls felt more oppressive than ever, the shadows longer and darker.
Eventually, she found herself back in the hidden study. The door was still slightly ajar, just as she’d left it. She paused before stepping inside, her pulse quickening as she approached the desk.
The flash drive was her only lead, but she had no idea what was on it or how to access it without raising suspicion. As she stared at the panels, a new thought struck her. What if Max already knew she’d found it? What if he was watching her right now?
The thought sent a shiver down her spine. She needed answers, but she couldn’t afford to be careless. Elijah’s warning had only deepened her determination. If there were secrets buried in this house, she would find them. But she had to be smart about it.
That night, Rory waited until the mansion was quiet before slipping out of her room. The hallways were dimly lit, the faint hum of the security system the only sound. She moved quietly, her footsteps barely making a sound against the smooth floors.
Her objective was Max’s office. It was the one place she hadn’t dared to explore yet, but if there were answers to be found, she knew that’s where they would be.
The door was locked, but Rory had expected that. She pulled a clip from her pocket and set to work. Her hands trembled slightly, but she forced herself to stay cool. After a few nervous moments, the lock clicked, and the door swung open.
The office was as grand as she’d expected, with dark wood paneling and a huge desk dominating the center of the room. Bookshelves lined the walls, and a single lamp cast a warm glow over the space. But Rory’s attention was quickly drawn to the desk.
She moved quickly, rifling through the papers and files spread across the surface. Most of it seemed mundane—financial reports, contracts, letters. But then she found it: a file with her family’s name on it.
Her heart raced as she opened it. Inside were papers detailing the Dumont family’s financial downfall, but there was more. Letters and notes suggested a much darker picture—deals made in secret, alliances formed and broken, and a trail of transactions that hinted at something far more sinister.
One name kept showing alongside her father’s: Valentin Rossini.
Rory’s gut dropped. She’d heard the name before, whispered in low tones during her father’s more stressful moments. Rossini was a businessman, but his image was anything but clean. If her family had been involved with him, it explained a lot. But it also raised even more questions.
A noise outside the office made her freeze. She quickly stuffed the papers back into the file and closed the drawer, her heart pounding. Footsteps approached, slow and deliberate.
She barely had time to hide behind the desk before the door opened. From her hiding spot, she saw a pair of shiny shoes step into the room. Her breath caught as she realized who it was.
Max.
He stood in the doorway for a moment, his sharp gaze sweeping over the room. Rory held her breath, forcing herself to stay perfectly still. After what felt like a lifetime, he stepped inside, moving toward the desk.
Rory’s mind raced. If he found her here, there would be no explaining it away. She waited until he was sidetracked, his attention focused on something on the desk, before slipping out from her hiding spot. Her movements were slow and careful, each step planned to avoid making a sound.
She was almost at the door when Max’s voice stopped her in her tracks.
“Rory.”
Her heart sank as she turned to face him. His face was unreadable, but his eyes burned with a cold intensity.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, his tone dangerously cool.
Rory’s mind scrambled for an answer, but nothing came. She opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, Max took a step closer.
“I told you to stay out of my affairs,” he said, his voice falling. “Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?”
She met his gaze, unwilling to back down despite the fear twisting in her gut. “Maybe I’m tired of being in the dark,” she said. “Maybe it’s time I started finding my own answers.”
Max’s jaw tightened, but before he could react, a sudden noise echoed through the hall—the sound of shattering glass. Both of them froze, their eyes locking in shared fear.
“Stay here,” Max directed, his tone leaving no room for argument. He turned and strode out of the room, leaving Rory standing there, her heart thumping in her chest.
But she didn’t stay. Whatever was happening, she needed to know. And as she followed the sound of chaos, one thought burned in her mind:
What else is this house hiding?