CHAPTER SIX: THE LETTER DANIEL LEFT BEHIND

Elena's POV

For several seconds after Ethan ended the call, I couldn't move.

His words kept repeating in my mind.

I found a letter in Daniel's room after he disappeared.

For ten years, I had believed my brother had left us without looking back. I had cried over his empty bedroom, searched through old photographs, and questioned every person who might have known where he went. I had even convinced myself that he had abandoned us because he was tired of our family's struggles.

Now I was discovering that the truth might have been waiting inside our own home all along.

And Ethan had kept it from me.

I picked up my phone and called him again.

He answered after the second ring.

"Elena?"

"Why didn't you tell me about the letter before?"

"I was a child. I didn't understand what I had found."

"How old were you?"

"Thirteen."

My anger weakened slightly.

Ethan had been thirteen when Daniel disappeared. He had been frightened, confused, and young enough to believe that keeping a secret could protect the people he loved.

But he was no longer a child.

"You should have told me when you grew older," I said quietly.

"I know."

"Do you still have it?"

"Yes. I hid it in a box with Daniel's old things."

"Where?"

"In my room."

I closed my eyes.

"Then take it out and read it to me."

There was a pause.

"Elena, I don't think that's a good idea over the phone."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't know who might be listening."

A cold sensation crept down my spine.

"Who would be listening to us, Ethan?"

"I don't know. But after what you've told me about the Sterlings, I'm not taking any chances."

I glanced at my bedroom door.

The mansion was quiet, but suddenly every unfamiliar sound seemed suspicious.

"Listen to me," I whispered. "Don't tell anyone else about that letter. Don't show it to anyone. I'll come home tomorrow, and we'll examine it together."

"Okay."

"And Ethan?"

"Yes?"

"If you remember anything else about the night Daniel disappeared, anything at all, you have to tell me."

His breathing changed.

"I will."

But something in his voice told me he was still holding back.

Before I could question him further, he spoke again.

"Elena, are you sure you're safe in that house?"

I looked at the expensive furniture, the carefully arranged flowers, and the heavy curtains framing the windows.

"No," I admitted. "But I'm going to find out why Daniel was there."

"Please don't let your need for answers destroy you."

I swallowed the painful lump in my throat.

"I won't."

We ended the call.

For the first time since arriving at the Sterling mansion, I wished I had never signed Alexander's contract.

But wishing wouldn't save my father.

It wouldn't bring Daniel home.

And it certainly wouldn't erase the questions now threatening to consume me.

I had entered this marriage arrangement because I needed money.

I was beginning to understand that the price would be much higher than I had imagined.

---

I barely had time to put down my phone before someone knocked.

"Miss Carter?"

Margaret's voice came from the other side of the door.

"Yes?"

"Mr. Sterling would like you to join him for dinner."

I considered refusing.

Then I remembered the document in Alexander's study and the promises he had made about investigating Daniel's disappearance.

Perhaps dinner would give me another opportunity to question him.

"Tell him I'll be down shortly."

I changed into a simple black dress, brushed my hair, and studied my reflection.

My eyes looked tired.

I looked like a woman who had spent too many years fighting battles she didn't understand.

I lifted my chin.

Whatever happened next, I would not allow Alexander Sterling to see how frightened I was.

When I entered the dining room, he was already seated at the far end of the long table.

Two places had been set, although the room was large enough to accommodate a dozen guests.

Alexander looked up from his phone.

"You're late."

I pulled out my chair.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize dinner was a military operation."

His mouth twitched, but the expression disappeared before it became a smile.

"Did you speak to your brother?"

My fingers tightened around the napkin.

"Why do you ask?"

"Because you've been looking at your phone since you came downstairs."

"Perhaps I'm waiting for a message from someone important."

"Your brother?"

I stared at him.

"Do you always make a habit of monitoring your guests?"

"You're not my guest, Elena."

The words settled between us.

I knew what he meant.

According to the agreement, I was supposed to become his wife. Eventually, the press would photograph us together, his business associates would address me as Mrs. Sterling, and strangers would believe that I belonged in this mansion.

But right now, I was still Elena Carter.

And I wasn't sure I wanted to become anything else.

"Then perhaps you should remember that I'm not your possession either," I replied.

Alexander placed his phone beside his plate.

"I haven't forgotten."

"Good. Because I have something to ask you."

"About Daniel?"

"About everything."

He signaled to the waiting staff, and dinner was served. I waited until they had left before continuing.

"I spoke to Ethan. He told me he found a letter in Daniel's room after Daniel disappeared."

Alexander's expression changed.

It was small, but unmistakable.

"What letter?"

"I don't know. Ethan says he kept it hidden for ten years."

"Does he still have it?"

"He believes he does."

Alexander leaned back in his chair.

"Did he tell you what was written in it?"

"He remembers one sentence."

I held his gaze.

"It said that if anything happened to Daniel, we shouldn't trust the Sterlings."

For the first time since I had met him, Alexander appeared genuinely caught off guard.

His jaw tightened.

"Are you certain those were his exact words?"

"Those are the words Ethan remembers."

"Did he mention anyone else?"

"No."

Alexander fell silent.

I watched him carefully.

"Why does that bother you?"

"It doesn't."

"Don't lie to me."

His eyes sharpened.

"Be careful how you speak to me."

"Or what? You'll cancel the contract? Stop paying for my father's treatment?"

The moment the words left my mouth, regret flickered through me.

Not because I believed they were wrong, but because I had seen something change in his expression.

A flash of anger.

And beneath it, something that looked almost like hurt.

"You think so little of me," he said.

I looked away.

"I don't know what to think of you."

"Then perhaps you should stop assuming the worst."

"Perhaps you should stop giving me reasons to."

Silence stretched between us.

Alexander reached for his glass of water, took a slow drink, and set it down.

"Your brother's letter may be important," he said at last. "If it still exists, I want to see it."

"Why?"

"Because it may contain information about what happened ten years ago."

"Or because you want to make sure it doesn't expose your family?"

His expression hardened.

"You're free to believe whatever you want. But if someone has been hiding the truth about Daniel, that letter could help us identify them."

I studied him.

"And if the letter proves your family was responsible?"

Alexander didn't look away.

"Then I want to know that too."

His answer unsettled me more than a denial would have.

For a moment, I saw something behind his cold exterior that I couldn't quite name.

Perhaps guilt.

Perhaps determination.

Or perhaps another carefully constructed lie.

I wasn't ready to trust him.

But I was beginning to realize that I might need him.

And that was a dangerous position for a woman who had promised herself never to become dependent on a man like Alexander Sterling.

---

Later that evening, I returned to my bedroom and called Ethan again.

He answered almost immediately.

"Elena, something's wrong."

I sat upright.

"What happened?"

"I went to get the letter."

"And?"

"It's gone."

I felt as though the floor had disappeared beneath me.

"What do you mean, gone?"

"The box is still there, but the letter isn't inside."

My heart began to pound.

"Are you sure you put it in that box?"

"Yes. I remember hiding it beneath Daniel's old notebooks. I checked everything twice."

"Maybe you moved it somewhere else."

"I didn't!"

His voice cracked with frustration.

"Elena, I know where I put it. I haven't touched that box in years. Someone has been in my room."

I stood and began pacing.

"Did anything else disappear?"

"Not that I can see. My drawers were open, but nothing valuable is missing."

"Did you tell anyone about the letter?"

"No."

"Not even your friends?"

"No, Elena!"

I pressed my hand against my forehead.

Someone had entered Ethan's room.

Someone had searched through Daniel's belongings.

And the letter was missing.

"Listen to me," I said, forcing my voice to remain calm. "Don't touch anything else. If you can, take pictures of the room before you move anything."

"Do you think I should call the police?"

I hesitated.

Ten years ago, Margaret had reported what she witnessed, only to be pressured into silence by the Sterling family's lawyers.

I didn't know whether the police had been misled or whether someone had deliberately buried the investigation.

But I couldn't dismiss the possibility that the person responsible for taking the letter might still be watching our family.

"I think you should secure the house first," I said. "Make sure the doors and windows are locked. If you believe someone is still nearby or you're in immediate danger, call the police and get somewhere safe."

"Okay."

"And don't confront anyone you suspect of taking it."

"I won't."

I swallowed.

"Ethan, there's something else. Did Daniel ever tell you why he was afraid of the Sterlings?"

"No."

"Think carefully."

He was silent for a long moment.

Then he spoke.

"Not exactly. But I remember him arguing with Dad about some documents. Daniel said Dad had promised someone he would keep quiet."

My stomach tightened.

"Keep quiet about what?"

"I don't know. Dad told him to stop asking questions. Daniel said he couldn't ignore what he had discovered."

I closed my eyes.

The old document.

My father's signature.

Richard Sterling's name.

Daniel's disappearance.

The pieces were beginning to form a picture, but I still couldn't see the entire image.

"Did Daniel ever mention a woman?" I asked.

"What woman?"

"Someone connected to the Sterlings. Maybe a woman who worked with them or knew our family."

Ethan hesitated.

"There was one name he mentioned a few times."

My breath caught.

"Who?"

"I can't remember her full name. I think it was Evelyn."

The name meant nothing to me at first.

Then I remembered Alexander's expression when I had asked about the photograph in the corridor.

And I remembered the way Margaret had looked at the boy standing beside Richard Sterling.

"Do you remember anything else?" I asked.

"No. I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

But it wasn't okay.

Not anymore.

Someone had taken the letter.

And whoever had done it might already know that I was asking questions.

---

I couldn't remain in my room.

I needed air, distance, and a few minutes without the walls of the mansion pressing in on me.

I opened the door and stepped into the corridor.

The lights were dim, and the house was unusually quiet.

I walked toward the staircase, intending to go outside, but stopped when I heard voices coming from Alexander's study.

His door was slightly open.

I knew I should keep walking.

Instead, I heard my name.

"Elena Carter is asking questions," a man said.

My body went still.

Alexander's voice followed.

"She has every right to."

"That isn't the point. If she discovers what happened ten years ago, everything could collapse."

My heart began to race.

I moved closer to the door, careful not to make a sound.

Alexander replied in a low, controlled voice.

"Then perhaps the people responsible should have thought about that before destroying the evidence."

The other man gave a short, humorless laugh.

"You sound as though you believe you're innocent."

"I didn't say that."

Silence.

Then the man spoke again.

"Your grandfather protected this family for decades. Are you really willing to destroy everything he built because of a girl whose brother should have stayed out of our affairs?"

My stomach turned.

A girl.

That was all I was to them.

A problem to be managed.

A threat to be silenced.

Alexander's voice became dangerously quiet.

"Don't refer to Elena that way again."

"Why? Has she become important to you already?"

I stopped breathing.

For several seconds, there was no response.

Then Alexander said, "This conversation is over."

Footsteps approached the door.

I stepped back quickly and slipped behind a decorative column just as it opened.

A tall man in a dark suit emerged from the study. His hair was almost completely gray, and his face carried the severe expression of someone accustomed to being obeyed.

He glanced down the corridor.

I held my breath.

After a moment, he walked away toward the main staircase.

I waited until his footsteps faded before emerging from my hiding place.

My hands were trembling.

I had no idea who the man was.

But I knew one thing.

He had been discussing Daniel's disappearance.

And he was afraid I would uncover the truth.

I turned toward Alexander's study.

The door was still open.

I could have walked away.

Instead, I stepped inside.

Alexander stood behind his desk, staring at the documents scattered across its surface.

He looked up when he saw me.

"How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough."

His expression hardened.

"Elena—"

"Who was that man?"

"Someone you don't need to worry about."

"Really? Because he seemed very worried about me."

Alexander said nothing.

I stepped closer to his desk.

"He said my brother should have stayed out of your family's affairs. What affairs?"

"That's not a conversation you should have overheard."

"Then perhaps you should stop discussing my family as though I'm not part of it."

His eyes flashed.

"You don't understand the danger you're walking into."

"Then explain it to me!"

"I can't."

"Won't, you mean."

He dragged a hand through his hair, a rare sign of frustration.

"There's information I haven't verified. If I tell you something now and it turns out to be wrong, you'll make decisions based on incomplete facts."

"At least I'd be making my own decisions."

He stared at me.

For a moment, neither of us moved.

Then he walked around the desk.

"Someone has taken an interest in you," he said.

My heart dropped.

"What do you mean?"

"Your questions about Daniel have reached people who would prefer that the past remain buried."

"Who?"

"I don't know yet."

"Was that man one of them?"

Alexander's silence was answer enough.

I stepped back.

"Did he take the letter?"

His gaze sharpened.

"What letter?"

"Ethan found a letter Daniel left behind. Someone broke into his room and took it."

Alexander's expression changed instantly.

"When did this happen?"

"Tonight."

"Did your brother contact the police?"

"Not yet."

"Then he should secure the house and contact them if he believes someone entered without permission. He shouldn't confront anyone himself."

I nodded slowly.

For the first time that evening, Alexander had responded without trying to control the conversation.

But my fear was growing.

"Do you think the letter was taken because of me?"

"I think it's possible."

I swallowed.

"And if whoever took it comes after Ethan?"

Alexander's expression turned cold.

"Then they'll have to get through me first."

The words escaped him so naturally that I almost believed them.

Almost.

I looked away.

"You can't protect everyone, Alexander."

"No," he admitted. "But I can make it very difficult for anyone to hurt them."

I wanted to ask why he cared.

I wanted to know whether he was protecting me because of our agreement, because he needed my family's cooperation, or because something about my situation had begun to matter to him.

Instead, I asked the only question that mattered.

"What are you not telling me?"

He looked at me for a long time.

Then he moved toward the desk and opened a locked drawer.

From it, he removed a small photograph.

He placed it in front of me.

My breath caught.

It was another picture of Daniel.

But this one was different.

He was older than the boy in the corridor photograph, perhaps eighteen or nineteen. His hair was longer, and he wore a dark jacket. He stood beside a young woman whose face had been scratched out with something sharp.

I stared at the damaged image.

"Who is she?"

Alexander's voice was barely audible.

"That's what I've been trying to find out."

I lifted my eyes.

"You don't know?"

"Not anymore."

"Not anymore?"

He looked down at the photograph.

"The woman disappeared three days before Daniel did."

A chill ran through me.

"Who was she?"

Alexander met my gaze.

"My mother."

The room fell silent.

I looked back at the photograph, struggling to reconcile the words with the image.

His mother.

The woman who had vanished before Daniel disappeared.

The woman whose face someone had deliberately destroyed.

"Alexander," I whispered, "what happened to her?"

For the first time, the ruthless billionaire looked like a man standing before a wound that had never healed.

"I was told she abandoned us," he said. "My grandfather claimed she left the country and never wanted to return."

"But you don't believe him."

"No."

"Why?"

Alexander took the photograph from my hands.

"Because the last person who saw my mother alive was your brother."

My heart hammered against my ribs.

Daniel had been connected to the Sterling family.

My father had signed an agreement with Richard Sterling.

A letter warning us not to trust the Sterlings had disappeared.

And now Alexander was telling me that my missing brother had been the last person to see his mother.

I could barely breathe.

"What does all this have to do with me?"

Alexander looked at me, and for the first time, I saw something in his eyes that frightened me more than his anger.

Fear.

"That's the question I've been trying to answer since I discovered your identity."

My blood ran cold.

"My identity? Alexander, what are you talking about?"

He didn't answer immediately.

Instead, he placed the photograph inside the drawer and locked it away.

Then he looked at me.

"Tomorrow, we're going to see your father."

"Why?"

"Because I think he knows where my mother went."

I stared at him, unable to speak.

My father had warned me to stay away from the Sterlings.

He had begged me not to trust them.

And now Alexander believed my father might hold the key to the disappearance of his own mother.

I had thought this marriage would cost me twelve months of my freedom.

I was beginning to fear it might cost me the truth about my family.

Or something far more precious.

My heart.

End of Chapter Six