CHAPTER 20: THIS WAS NEVER PART OF THE DEAL

The morning after Alexander kissed me, he treated me like a stranger.

I had expected awkwardness. Perhaps a difficult conversation or an explanation. What I hadn't expected was the complete absence of emotion.

At breakfast, he discussed company meetings with Victoria, answered emails, and barely looked in my direction.

When I finally spoke, he answered politely.

Politely.

As if we hadn't spent the previous night holding each other in the quiet kitchen.

I decided I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing how much it hurt.

If he wanted to pretend nothing had happened, I could do the same.

After breakfast, I returned to my room and opened the contract folder.

I read every page carefully, reminding myself why I had accepted his offer in the first place. My mother's treatment. Daniel's education. The money I needed to rebuild our lives.

Not Alexander.

Not his grey eyes or the way his voice softened when he forgot to be cruel.

Certainly not his kisses.

I closed the folder.

Whatever had happened between us, I would not beg him to acknowledge it.

At lunchtime, Alexander summoned me to his study.

I found him standing behind his desk, looking through several documents.

“You wanted to see me?”

“Yes. Please sit.”

I remained standing.

“What is it?”

He placed the documents down.

“I think we need to clarify something.”

I already knew what was coming.

“Go ahead.”

“Last night was a mistake.”

I looked at him.

He didn't meet my eyes immediately.

“Our arrangement was never intended to become personal. We should return to the boundaries we agreed upon.”

I felt my face grow warm, but I kept my voice steady.

“Of course.”

His eyes lifted.

“That's all?”

“What else would you like me to say?”

“I want to make sure we're clear.”

“We are. This was never part of the deal.”

Something moved across his face.

Perhaps he had expected me to argue. Perhaps he wanted me to admit that the kiss meant something.

But I wasn't going to make that easy for him.

I turned toward the door.

“Amelia.”

I stopped.

“You understand that nothing about your position here changes?”

I looked back.

“My position?”

“Your accommodation, your family's expenses, your security. Everything remains as agreed.”

A bitter smile touched my lips.

“Thank you for reminding me.”

“That's not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean, Alexander?”

He said nothing.

I opened the door.

“Don't worry. I remember exactly why I'm here.”

I walked out before he could answer.

For the next two days, we behaved like strangers sharing an expensive house.

Alexander left early and returned late. When we crossed paths, he greeted me with a brief nod. I stopped waiting for him at breakfast and spent more time in the library working on my design portfolio.

I also avoided the kitchen at night.

It was easier that way.

Victoria noticed the change.

One afternoon, she found me arranging fabric samples across the library table.

“Are you settling into your studies?” she asked.

“I'm trying.”

She looked at the samples.

“These are beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

Her eyes moved toward the hallway.

“Mr. Blackwood has been working very late.”

I kept my attention on the fabric.

“He's a busy man.”

“He is.”

There was a pause.

“Sometimes he makes things difficult for himself.”

I looked up.

“Is that your professional opinion?”

A small smile appeared on her face.

“Six years of working for him have taught me that he doesn't always know what to do when something matters to him.”

I wasn't sure whether she was talking about the company or something else.

Before I could ask, her phone rang.

She answered, listened briefly, and then looked at me.

“Excuse me. I need to take this.”

She left.

I returned to my work, but her words stayed with me.

When something matters to him.

I pushed the thought away.

I had no intention of becoming another woman waiting for Alexander Blackwood to decide what he wanted.

That evening, the threat returned.

I was in my bedroom when my phone vibrated.

An unknown number.

You think a kiss makes you part of his family? Ask him what happened to the woman who came before you.

My stomach tightened.

Another message appeared.

This time, it contained a photograph of a document.

I opened it.

The image was blurry, but I could make out the Blackwood International logo and several lines of text.

At the bottom was a familiar name.

EVELYN BLACKWOOD.

Beneath it was a date: fifteen years earlier.

And beside her name was a handwritten note.

Subject removed. Carter payment confirmed.

I stared at the words.

Subject removed.

What did that mean?

I enlarged the photograph, trying to make out the remaining details.

Then another message arrived.

Your father didn't just receive money. He helped move something. And now you're living where it was hidden.

My hands began to shake.

I immediately called Alexander.

He answered after two rings.

“What happened?”

“I received another message.”

“Send it to me.”

I forwarded the photograph.

“Stay in your room. I'm coming.”

He ended the call.

Less than five minutes later, he entered my bedroom with his phone in his hand.

His expression changed as soon as he saw the document on my screen.

“Where did this come from?”

“An unknown number.”

He studied the image.

“Did you receive anything else?”

I showed him the messages.

He read them without speaking.

Then he looked at me.

“Did you tell anyone about Evelyn?”

“No.”

“Did you share the photograph you found?”

“No, Alexander.”

He moved toward the window.

“Someone has access to records that should have been destroyed years ago.”

“Who is the subject they removed?”

“I don't know.”

“You must have some idea.”

His jaw tightened.

“I said I don't know.”

I stood.

“Then tell me what the Carter payment was really for.”

He turned.

“Amelia—”

“No. You don't get to shut me out every time my father's name appears. You knew about that payment before I did. You knew Richard had found something, and you kept it from me.”

“I was trying to understand it before involving you.”

“You were trying to control what I knew.”

He didn't deny it.

I pointed at the screen.

“Now someone is sending me documents connecting my father to Evelyn's disappearance. How much more am I supposed to ignore?”

Alexander looked at the photograph again.

“I'll have the security team investigate the number.”

“And what about the document?”

“I'll send it to our forensic team.”

“That's not enough.”

He looked at me sharply.

“What do you want me to do?”

“Tell me the truth.”

His expression hardened.

“I don't have the truth yet.”

“Then stop acting as though I should trust you with mine.”

For a moment, we stood facing each other.

The silence between us felt heavier than it had before.

Finally, he spoke.

“Someone is trying to make you believe your father was involved in Evelyn's disappearance.”

“Was he?”

“I don't know.”

I searched his face, hoping to find something that would tell me whether he was hiding more.

But Alexander had become impossible to read again.

He slipped his phone into his pocket.

“I'm increasing your security.”

I shook my head.

“That's your answer to everything.”

“Because keeping you safe is becoming more difficult.”

“Maybe you should tell me why.”

He stepped closer.

“Because your name is appearing in places where it should never have been.”

My stomach dropped.

“What do you mean?”

He hesitated.

Then he turned his phone toward me.

It showed an email from Victoria, sent only minutes earlier. Attached was a scanned page from the company's restricted archive.

At the top were the words:

BLACKWOOD INTERNATIONAL — CONFIDENTIAL LEGACY INVESTIGATION

Below that was a list of names.

Richard Hale.

Evelyn Blackwood.

Thomas Carter.

And then, at the bottom, a name that made my blood run cold.

AMELIA CARTER — DESIGNATED BENEFICIARY AND FINAL WITNESS.

I read it twice.

“I'm only twenty-four,” I whispered. “How could I have been a witness to something that happened fifteen years ago?”

Alexander's expression was grim.

“That is exactly what I intend to find out.”

I looked at him.

“Why does it say designated beneficiary?”

He didn't answer.

Instead, he enlarged the final section of the document.

There was a handwritten note beneath my name.

If the Carter girl returns to Blackwood property, activate the final arrangement.

I felt the room closing around me.

“What final arrangement?”

Alexander looked at me, and for the first time since our kiss, I saw genuine fear in his eyes.

“I don't know.”

Then his phone rang.

He answered immediately.

“Victoria?”

He listened.

His expression changed.

“What do you mean the file has been accessed again?”

A pause.

“By whom?”

He went completely still.

Then he slowly lowered the phone.

I stared at him.

“What happened?”

His voice was barely above a whisper.

“Someone just used your name to unlock the archive.”

My heart stopped.

I had never seen that file before.

I had never known it existed.

And yet, somehow, the system had accepted me as the person authorised to open it.

Whatever my father had done fifteen years ago, someone had made certain that I would eventually become part of it.

And now that I was living in Alexander Blackwood's mansion, the secret was finally beginning to wake up.