LOGINAdrian’s POV Peter Lawson agreed to meet us at a small café outside the city centre. He arrived twenty minutes late. I noticed the moment he stepped inside that he looked different from the man we had met before. His shoulders were tense, his eyes kept moving towards the windows, and he held his coat tightly around himself despite the warmth inside. Serena sat beside me, the photograph resting in her handbag. Peter stopped at our table. “You said this was important.” “It is,” I replied. “Sit down.” He hesitated before taking the chair opposite us. I placed the photograph on the table. Peter stared at it. For several seconds, he didn't move. Then he closed his eyes. “So you've found it.” Serena leaned forward. “Why didn't you tell us?” He looked at her, shame written across his face. “Because I was afraid you wouldn't believe me.” “You could have tried.” “I know.” “Then tell us the truth.” Peter rubbed both hands over his face. “I was working as a security guard a
Serena’s POV I stared at the photograph until my eyes began to hurt. Peter Lawson. The same man who had sat across from us, his hands trembling as he described the night my father died. The same man who claimed he had been too frightened to identify the person leaving the warehouse. The same man who had promised Adrian that he wanted the truth to come out. And now his face appeared in a photograph taken before my father's death, standing beside Martin Vale. “What if he lied about everything?” I whispered. Adrian stood beside me, examining the photograph. “Then we find out why.” “You say that as if it's easy.” “It isn't.” He turned to face me. “But we won't discover the truth by assuming the worst before we've heard his explanation.” I looked at him. “Are you defending Peter?” “No. I'm reminding you that we've already seen what happens when people make decisions based on fear and incomplete information.” His words struck a nerve because I knew he was right. My father had
Adrian’s POV I read the name again. Eleanor Ashford. The woman who had given Serena the key. The woman who had preserved letters, records, and memories that should have disappeared decades ago. The woman who had looked me in the eye and told me that Daniel Hayes had been betrayed. Now her name sat in the middle of a financial record connected to the night Daniel died. “Tell me you don’t believe she killed my father,” Serena said. Her voice was quiet, but I could hear the fear beneath it. I turned away from the computer. “I don’t believe anything until we have proof.” “That isn’t an answer.” “It’s the only honest one I have.” She folded her arms, staring at the screen. “Eleanor helped us. She gave us the key to Room Seven. She showed us the letters.” “She also knew your father, Richard, and Martin. She was involved in whatever agreement they made.” “But why would she help us if she had something to hide?” “Perhaps she wants the truth exposed now. Perhaps she wants us to
Serena’s POV The drive back from the cemetery was quieter than I expected. Adrian kept one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting near mine on the centre console. Every few minutes, he glanced at me as though he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the right words. My phone lay in my lap, the anonymous message still glowing on the screen. Your father died because he refused to listen. Don’t make the same mistake. I had read it so many times that the words no longer looked real. They felt like a threat from a ghost who had been watching me my entire life. “Adrian?” “Yes, sweetheart?” The endearment caught me off guard. He had called me many things since we met—stubborn, troublesome, impossible—but hearing him call me sweetheart made my heart behave like it had forgotten how to beat normally. “What if this person is right?” I asked quietly. “What if digging into the past is going to destroy everything?” He slowed the car as we approached a junction. “Look at me
Serena’s POV For the first time in days, I woke up feeling hopeful. Adrian had told me about his conversation with his father the previous evening. Although many questions remained unanswered, Victor had agreed to cooperate with the investigation. It wasn't everything I wanted. But it was something. I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the photograph of my father I kept beside my mirror. He looked so young in it. His smile was easy, his eyes warm. He looked like a man who believed the world was kinder than it really was. I ran my fingers over the photograph. "I hope we're getting closer, Dad," I whispered. A soft knock came at my door. My mother entered carrying a small wooden box. "Can we talk?" I put the photograph down. "Of course." She sat beside me and placed the box between us. "I should have given you this a long time ago." I looked at it carefully. "What is it?" "Something your father left for you." My heart began to race. "Another secret?" She lowered
Adrian’s POV The name followed me all the way home. Victor Blackwood. My father. The man who had raised me, taught me how to defend myself and prepared me to inherit everything the Blackwood family had built. The man whose approval I had spent most of my life trying to earn. And now, his name was connected to the night Serena's father died. I tightened my grip on the steering wheel. Beside me, Serena remained silent. She had barely spoken since Peter Lawson revealed what he knew. I wanted to comfort her, but I couldn't offer promises I wasn't certain I could keep. "Adrian?" she finally whispered. I glanced at her. "Yes?" "If your father was involved, what happens to us?" The question struck harder than I expected. I pulled the car to the side of the road and turned towards her. "Nothing changes between us." "You can't know that." "You're right. I can't know everything that will happen." I reached for her hand. "But I know what I feel for you, Serena. And I'm not going







