Chapter 4 4

The door slammed open, rattling on its hinges like a gunshot in the eerie silence. I shot to my feet, heart pounding, my pulse drumming in my ears as the shadows of the office twisted and coiled, as if alive.

And then he walks in.

It's him. The man from the hospital. What was he doing here? It took me a while to realize. It couldn't be...

Levi Vanderbilt.

Alive.

I couldn't recognize him at the hospital but the familiarity of his face nagged me. But seeing him now, in his office. Everything just fit into place. Levi Vanderbilt was alive, that was the big secret aunt Livia was keeping.

Not a ghost, not a figment of my imagination. He was taller than I'd imagined, broader too, his sharp jaw shadowed with stubble, and his eyes-God, his eyes-were a storm. Fury, distrust, and something darker I couldn't place churned in their depths. He looked like he'd crawled out of hell with every intention of dragging me back with him.

For a moment, I couldn't move, couldn't breathe.

"You," he said, his voice a blade against my skin, cutting through the air between us.

I blinked, trying to piece together the fractured shards of my thoughts. He's alive. He's alive, and he's here. How is he here?

"I-" The word faltered, pathetic and small, as his gaze bore into me.

"Spare me the innocent act. I would've thought the visit at the hospital would knock some sense into you. I almost bought your timid peasant act, but seeing that you're here.." His steps were deliberate, measured, as he crossed the room. The air shifted with him, heavy and electric, like the moments before a storm breaks.

I found my voice, though it trembled under his scrutiny. "You're supposed to be dead."

"And yet here I am," he snapped, his tone dripping with venom. "Funny how that works, isn't it? One minute you're gone, the next you're walking into your own office to find a stranger rummaging through your things."

"I wasn't rummaging-"

"Don't." He cut me off with a sharp gesture, his voice dropping to a dangerous murmur. "Don't insult me with lies. I've seen enough of those to last a lifetime. Now, tell me: Who sent you? Was it Livia?"

"What?" The question hit me like a slap, my confusion only deepening the knot of dread twisting in my stomach. "No one sent me. I-"

"Don't play dumb." He was in front of me now, towering, his presence suffocating. "You marry a dead man. You waltz into my life under the Vanderbilt name. And now, here you are, conveniently waiting in my office with my private documents. If this isn't part of some elaborate scheme, then what the hell is it?"

"I didn't want this!" The words burst out before I could stop them, my voice cracking with frustration and fear. "I didn't choose to be here. I didn't choose you. This was Livia's plan, not mine."

"Convenient," he said, his lip curling. "Blame someone else. Is that what they taught you to do. God, you are so convincing."

"It's not a move." My voice steadied, my fists clenched at my sides. "You think I wanted to marry a corpse? You think I wanted any of this? My father is dying, and Livia used that to force me into this... this charade. So if you're looking for someone to blame, start with her."

His eyes narrowed, taking me in with a precision that made my skin crawl. I could feel him dissecting every word, every tremor in my voice, weighing my truth against whatever paranoid narrative he'd constructed.

"Livia," he said, his voice softer now but no less lethal. He turned away, pacing to the window, his silhouette cutting a dark line against the faint glow of moonlight. "Of course. She's been circling for years, she's a vulture waiting for her chance to sink her claws into my carcass. But you..." He turned back to me, his expression colder than before. "You want me to believe you're innocent in this."

"I don't know what you want me to say," I said, exhaustion creeping into my voice. "I didn't even know you were alive until five minutes ago. What could I possibly gain from this?"

He laughed then, low and bitter. "What could you gain? The Vanderbilt fortune, for starters. Access to resources that people kill for. Protection from anyone who'd dare cross you. Don't play the victim, Eliana. You're smarter than that."

His words hung in the air like smoke, acrid and suffocating. I wanted to argue, to defend myself, but what was the point? He was right. I mean I did marry for my own motives even if Livia dangled all those in front of me, I did go ahead with it for the benefits. It stung.

"I don't care about your money," I said finally, my voice hollow. "All I care about is keeping my father alive."

Something flickered in his expression-doubt, maybe, or pity-but it vanished as quickly as it appeared.

"You're either the best liar I've ever met," he said, his tone unreadable, "or you're the dumbest person on the planet."

"What are you talking about ?" I asked.

He walked toward the desk, picking up the envelope the officiant had given me earlier. He turned it over in his hands, his expression darkening. "You don't even know what you've walked into, do you?"

"No," I said quietly. "No one told me anything."

He smirked, though there was no humor in it. "I faked my death," he said, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "Not because I wanted to, but because I had to. The Vanderbilts aren't just a wealthy family, Eliana. We're targets. And there are people-dangerous people-who would do anything to see us fall."

I swallowed hard, the weight of his words pressing down on me like a physical force.

"Livia," he continued, his eyes locking onto mine, "has been circling this family for years, feeding information to our enemies. I don't know what she promised you, but make no mistake-if you're working with her, you're as much a threat as they are."

"I'm not working with her," I said firmly.

"Then prove it."

His challenge hung in the air, heavy with implication. Before I could respond, a noise echoed from somewhere in the house-a door creaking open, the sound sharp and jarring in the oppressive silence.

Levi's head snapped toward the sound, his body tense, every muscle coiled like a predator ready to strike.

"We're not alone," he said.