Chapter 5 Secrets in the Shadows

Lia had barely slept. The leak of Elara's autopsy... it haunted her.

She sat by the window, watching dawn crawl across the estate like a thief. This place was full of secrets. Locked rooms. Whispered names. Now someone wanted those secrets exposed-and they were using Elara to do it.

Cain hadn't said a word after Gregor left last night. He'd gone straight to his study, locked the door, and hadn't emerged since.

Lia couldn't stop wondering.

Who would do something so cruel? And why now?

She stood and dressed quickly, choosing jeans and a soft sweater. Something about today felt like armor would be more useful than elegance.

In the hallway, she passed Martha carrying linens.

"Can I ask you something?" Lia said, stopping her.

Martha gave a small nod.

"Who else lives in this house?"

Martha hesitated. "You mean permanently? Just the staff. Me, Gregor, the gardener, and Cain's guards. He doesn't allow visitors unless absolutely necessary."

"And you trust them?"

Another pause.

"I trust their loyalty to Cain."

Lia frowned. "But loyalty can shift."

"Yes," Martha said quietly. "Especially when old ghosts start whispering again."

Later that morning, Cain finally emerged. He was sharper than usual-cold, in control, but something in his eyes betrayed exhaustion.

"I need you to stay in the east wing today," he said, not looking directly at her.

"Why?"

"Because there's an investigation underway. I don't need you walking into something dangerous."

"So I'm a prisoner again."

"You're a priority," he corrected. "There's a difference."

Lia crossed her arms. "Let me help. I'm not fragile."

Cain stepped closer. "You're a target, Lia. Someone's stirring the past to get to me. I won't give them a reason to come after you next."

His tone was final.

But Lia wasn't finished.

She waited until Cain left the house again, likely to meet with his legal team. Then she did what she wasn't supposed to.

She explored.

The estate was massive. Long corridors twisted between unused rooms. Some doors were locked, some forgotten. One hallway near the west wing had clearly been untouched for years. Dust coated the floors, and cobwebs filled the corners.

Lia pushed open a creaky door at the end of the hall.

It was a bedroom-elegant but aged. The curtains were drawn, the air thick with memory.

And there on the vanity was a silver hairbrush... with a single dark strand still caught in the bristles.

Elara's room.

She shouldn't be here.

But she stepped in anyway.

A small journal lay tucked beneath the pillow. The cover worn, the edges smudged. Lia opened it carefully.

The handwriting was soft, looping. Feminine.

"March 3rd. He smiled at me again today. Cain never smiles twice at anyone, but he did for me. I think I might be falling."

Lia swallowed hard.

"March 28th. I heard them whispering. Cain's uncle is against the marriage. Says I'm a distraction. Maybe he's right. But Cain doesn't care. He says I make him feel human."

She flipped to the final entry.

"June 11th. There's something wrong. I'm being followed. I don't think Cain knows. If anything happens to me, I want him to remember... I didn't regret loving him. Not even for a second."

Lia stared at the page.

This wasn't just a tragic story. It was unfinished. Unanswered.

And someone had made sure it stayed that way.

When Cain returned, she was waiting in the foyer, the journal clutched in her hands.

He froze when he saw it.

"You went into her room," he said, voice low.

"I needed to understand," Lia replied. "She knew she was being followed. Did you?"

Cain's jaw clenched. "No."

"She wrote it down. You never read this?"

"I couldn't," he said. "Touching her things felt like digging up a grave."

"But someone else has been digging. And now the grave's wide open, Cain."

He stepped forward. "Give it to me."

She handed it over reluctantly.

Cain held the journal like it might shatter. His eyes scanned the final entry.

For the first time, Lia saw real fear break through his anger.

"She didn't just die," Lia said softly. "She was hunted."

Cain nodded once. "And now someone wants me to relive it."

That night, Cain doubled the guards around the estate. Every hallway was patrolled. No staff were allowed to leave without inspection. The air was tight, suffocating.

Lia sat alone in the bedroom, staring at the fire.

So many lies.

So much grief.

A knock came. She expected Cain.

But it was Gregor.

He stepped inside quietly and closed the door behind him.

"I wanted to speak with you privately," he said.

Lia tensed. "About what?"

"Elara. And the man who might've wanted her dead."

Lia's heart jumped. "Who?"

Gregor looked tired. "Cain's uncle. Vincent Wolfe. He stood to gain control of the family business if anything happened to Cain or his heir. Elara being pregnant changed everything."

"But Elara died. Not Cain."

Gregor nodded. "And Cain never found proof. Vincent disappeared a month later. Off the grid."

Lia swallowed hard. "And now?"

"He's back."

The words hit like a punch.

"Are you saying this leak, the files, the journal-?"

"Could all be part of a larger plan," Gregor said. "Someone is waking the ghosts Cain tried to bury. And if they've come for Elara's memory... you might be next."