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Chapter 3
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2026-08-06 03:23:00The room felt colder, not because of the storm outside, but because of the words spoken by a four-year-old child.
“Why was the red earring lady crying in your room?” Eliam stared at Gabriella, then slowly turned toward Eleanor. His grandmother looked like someone had taken ten years from her in a single second. For the first time in his life, Eliam saw something he never thought he would see: fear. Not worry. Not sadness. Fear. “Grandmother,” he said quietly. Eleanor did not answer. “Why would Gabriella say that?” Her lips parted. Nothing came out. Luca noticed the change immediately. He moved slightly closer to Eliam, a silent warning that something was wrong. Eliam bent down beside Gabriella. “Sweetheart.” She looked at him. “Yes?” “Do you remember being in Grandma’s room?” Gabriella nodded slowly. “Yes.” “When?” She frowned. “I don’t know.” “That’s okay.” He softened his voice. “Just tell me what you remember.” The little girl looked at the floor. “Mommy was there.” Eliam’s heart stopped. “Mommy?” Gabriella nodded. “She was talking to Grandma.” Eleanor closed her eyes. “Gabriella…” The little girl looked at her. “Mommy was crying.” A painful silence followed. “She said someone was going to hurt us.” Eliam felt his chest tighten. “Who?” Gabriella shook her head. “I don’t know.” She looked frustrated. “I can’t remember.” Eliam pulled her into his arms. “That’s okay.” But he knew it wasn’t. Not anymore. Because every strange memory Gabriella had shared led back to the same night, the night his family was destroyed. Later that morning, after Gabriella had finally returned to sleep, Eliam stood in the private study with Eleanor, Luca, and Marcus. The room was filled with old books, expensive art, and memories Eliam wanted to forget. Nobody spoke. Finally, Eliam broke the silence. “Start talking.” Eleanor looked at him. “There are things about that night you were never supposed to know.” His expression hardened. “I’m tired of being protected from the truth.” “You were nine years old.” “I’m twenty-nine now.” “I know.” “Then treat me like it.” Eleanor looked down. For a moment, she wasn’t the powerful Blackwood matriarch; she was simply a mother who lost her daughter. “Your mother discovered something.” “What?” “She found financial records.” Eliam frowned. “About what?” “The Blackwood empire.” Silence. “She believed someone inside the family was moving money through hidden accounts.” Marcus immediately opened his laptop. “Illegal transfers?” Eleanor nodded. “Money was disappearing. Deals were being manipulated.” Luca crossed his arms. “Who was involved?” Eleanor looked at Eliam. “That is the question your mother died trying to answer.” Eliam’s face became colder. “And you knew?” “I suspected.” “That’s not enough.” “I had no proof.” “You could have told me.” “You were a child.” “I lost my mother.” His voice cracked slightly. “I deserved the truth.” Eleanor looked away. “You deserved a childhood.” The answer hurt because it came from love. But it also came too late. Across New York City, Avaline Hart was having a completely different kind of morning. No security guards. No billion-dollar company. No family secrets. Just twenty-five children, colorful drawings, and a classroom full of laughter. “Okay, everyone,” she said, clapping her hands softly. “Today we are learning about kindness.” A little boy raised his hand. “Yes, Oliver?” “If someone is mean, should we be mean back?” Avaline smiled. “No.” “Why?” “Because someone’s darkness doesn’t mean you have to become dark too.” The words came out naturally, but they stayed with her because she needed to believe them. Her phone vibrated inside her bag. She ignored it. The children were more important. For the next hour, she was not Avaline Hart, the woman carrying secrets. She was simply Miss Hart: the teacher who fixed broken crayons, the teacher who gave hugs when children missed their parents, and the teacher who believed every child deserved safety. After the class ended, she walked into the empty hallway and finally checked her phone. Three missed calls and one message from Dante Moretti. Her stomach dropped. She stepped into the supply room, closed the door, and called back. He answered immediately. “You took your time.” “I was teaching.” “You still pretend you have a normal life.” Avaline stayed silent. Dante continued. “Tomorrow is the school event.” She closed her eyes. “Yes.” “Eliam Blackwood will attend.” Her fingers tightened around the phone. “I know.” “You will meet him.” “I know.” “You will become someone he trusts.” A pause stretched, then Dante added: “Because once you enter that house, you will have access to everything.” Avaline looked down. “And my brother?” “Safe.” She hated that one word because she knew what it meant: safe as long as she obeyed. “What happens if I fail?” Silence. Then: “You already know.” The call ended. Avaline stood alone in the supply room, a kindergarten teacher surrounded by colorful paper and children’s drawings, and a woman ordered to destroy a family. She looked at her reflection in the dark window. For years, she had survived by becoming whatever people needed her to be: a daughter, a sister, a weapon, a liar. But tomorrow, she would meet Eliam Blackwood. The man whose life she helped ruin. The man she was ordered to deceive. And the man she was never supposed to feel guilty for hurting. That night, Eliam stood outside Gabriella’s bedroom again, watching her sleep. The music box sat beside her, his mother’s final gift, and her hidden secret. His phone buzzed with a message from Eleanor: I found the name connected to the old investigation. Eliam opened it. One name appeared on the screen. A name he recognized, and a name that made his blood run cold: Avaline Hart. Before he could understand why that name mattered, another message arrived: Tomorrow, she will enter your life. Eliam stared at the screen. Because he didn’t know who Avaline Hart was. He didn’t know she was carrying a secret that could destroy him. And he certainly didn’t know she was about to become his wife.
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