Chapter 7 WHISPER BEHIND WALLS

Beatrice's POV

The gates of my father's mansion creaked open with the same eerie sound I'd known since childhood.

But this time, it felt like walking into a graveyard.

Two guards flanked the main entrance. I kept my head high, calm and poised, just as I was trained to be. The daughter of Lord Sampson wasn't allowed to show weakness.

Especially not now.

Especially not when I was walking into a warzone.

"Miss Beatrice," one of them greeted me stiffly. "Your father is waiting in his study."

"Of course he is," I whispered under my breath.

I stepped into the grand foyer, marble floors gleaming, chandeliers sparkling. From the outside, everything still looked like power and wealth.

But inside... it reeked of fear.

The staff avoided my eyes. The walls felt like they were listening. My father had eyes everywhere, and I had to act like I hadn't betrayed him. Like I hadn't kissed his enemy or smuggled his secrets into the hands of rebels.

I adjusted the strap of my purse, keeping my face blank, and made my way to the study.

My heels tapped softly on the polished floor. Every step reminded me of the danger. Of Kelvin. Of Rico. Of the blood we'd already spilled.

I knocked once on the heavy oak door.

"Come in," came the deep voice from inside.

I entered.

And saw him.

Lord Sampson.

My father.

He sat in his usual leather chair, facing the wide window behind his desk. He didn't turn to face me right away.

"Beatrice," he said quietly. "You've been gone longer than you said."

"I needed time," I replied, keeping my voice steady. "Things were... overwhelming."

He finally turned.

And I immediately noticed the change.

His eyes were colder.

His hands rested on a stack of papers, but one of them was already crumpled slightly at the edges, like it had been squeezed in anger.

"You were at the docks," he said simply.

My breath caught in my throat.

Play dumb. Stay calm.

"No, I wasn't."

"I had a man tail you."

I blinked. "You... you had me followed?"

"I had everyone followed," he said. "Especially after the Rico incident. One of my best men, and he dies protecting my enemy."

He leaned forward.

"Do you love him?"

I hesitated.

Every lie had a price.

"Yes," I whispered.

His expression didn't change.

No anger. No surprise.

Only... disappointment.

"Then you're more foolish than I thought."

He stood and walked slowly around the desk, circling me like a hawk circling prey.

"You don't know who he is," he said. "You think you love a man, but you love a ghost. A boy raised by vengeance. A boy who would stab you in the heart the second it served him."

"That's not true."

"It is," he snapped. "And now, because of your softness, my men are dead. My routes are compromised. And the streets are watching."

I stepped back slightly, but he closed the distance.

"Look me in the eye," he growled. "And tell me, if it came down to it... would you choose him over me?"

My hands trembled.

I wanted to scream yes. I wanted to throw his crimes back in his face. Tell him about the files. The pictures. The betrayal of my mother. The betrayal of Kelvin's father.

But instead... I whispered, "I don't know."

Because if I said yes, I might not leave that room alive.

He stared at me.

Long and hard.

Then slowly... he smiled.

"Good."

I swallowed. "Good?"

He stepped back, poured himself a glass of dark red wine, and took a sip.

"Because we're going to use that confusion."

"What are you talking about?"

He turned toward the window again, voice calm.

"You're going to go back to him. Play the loyal lover. The terrified daughter. Feed him small truths. Keep him close. And when he finally lets his guard down..."

He turned back to face me.

"...you're going to bring him to me."

My throat dried instantly.

This was it.

The full trap.

He didn't trust me. He was using me.

Either I betray Kelvin...

Or I die.

I forced my voice to stay soft. "And if I say no?"

He smiled again. That cold, hollow smile I had always feared as a child.

"Then I'll have no daughter."

The silence between us stretched like a blade.

My mind raced.

If I pushed too hard now, I'd never make it out of the mansion alive. But if I agreed, I might buy time.

So I nodded slowly.

"I'll do what you ask."

He studied me.

Then sipped his wine again. "Smart girl."

But I wasn't his girl anymore.

Not after what I'd seen.

Not after what I was about to do.

That night, I returned to the mansion's west wing, the one that had been locked off since my mother's mysterious death when I was nine. My father had always said it was under renovation.

I had always known that was a lie.

But now... I needed the truth.

I waited until the guards rotated shifts, 3:00 am, the weakest security hour.

I slipped into the corridor quietly, using an old key I had stolen from his drawer weeks ago.

The door creaked open slowly, and I stepped into the darkness.

Dust coated every surface. The smell of old wood, forgotten perfume, and mildew filled my lungs.

This was once her room.

My mother.

And here, I believed, was the truth about what happened to her.

I pulled out a flashlight and started scanning every shelf, every corner, every loose panel.

And then, behind an old dresser, I found it.

A hidden compartment.

Inside... was a box.

Black. Locked.

I cracked the lid open.

And inside...

Photographs.

Dozens of them.

My mother. Smiling with my father. With me.

And then... pictures of her with Kelvin's father.

Happy.

Too happy.

I flipped over one of the photos.

Scrawled in my mother's handwriting were the words:

"They never knew about us."

My legs weakened.

I sat on the dusty floor, chest heaving.

My mother and Kelvin's father...

They were in love?

The door creaked behind me.

I jumped, turning the flashlight.

A shadow moved in the hallway.

Footsteps.

Someone had seen me.

I grabbed the box, shoved it into my bag, and killed the flashlight.

The footsteps got closer.

Too close.

I reached the door silently, heart pounding.

I had no weapon.

Only truth.

And it wasn't enough.