7. Secrets in the Shadows

The whisper wouldn’t leave Evie alone. It clung to her thoughts like a ghost breathing against her neck.

They’re lying to you.

The words had slipped through the ornate wooden panel in the sunroom the night before—low, intimate, meant only for her.

Meet me tonight.

Since then, every hallway in the Voss mansion felt different. Alive. Watching.

Evie walked through the grand corridors with restless energy, her bare fingers brushing the cold marble walls as if the house itself might answer her questions. The mansion was less a home and more a labyrinth—three stories of white stone, velvet shadows, and doors that hid things better left buried.

Who had whispered to her?

And more terrifying…

How did he know she would listen?

***

The morning after the interrogation, Evie couldn’t focus on the stack of documents Thorne had left for her.

Briefing materials. Scripted lies about her supposed marriage to Kael Voss. She shoved them aside. If everyone in this house was lying… she would find the truth herself.

Her search began in the east corridor.

Sunlight spilled through stained-glass windows, scattering red and gold patterns across the marble floor. Evie moved slowly, studying the walls, the sconces, the antique carvings.

Then she noticed it.

A brass wall sconce shaped like a swan. Her fingers brushed its neck.

Click.

The wall shifted.

Evie’s breath caught as a hidden panel swung open, revealing a narrow passageway coated in decades of dust. Cold air spilled out. The scent of old paper and forgotten secrets. Her heart pounded as she stepped inside.

The passage opened into a hidden gallery.

Portraits covered the walls—generations of the Voss dynasty staring down at her from gilded frames. Stern men in dark suits. Elegant women wrapped in diamonds. All of them had the same piercing gray eyes. The same eyes that haunted the portrait in the study.

Kael’s eyes.

At the far end hung a painting that made Evie stop. A young woman with soft auburn hair. Sad eyes. A child on her lap.

The plaque read:

Elena Voss — with son Kael (1990).

Evie stepped closer.

Little Kael couldn’t have been older than four. His tiny hand clutched his mother’s dress, his gray eyes already intense, already too old for his face.

Her fingers brushed the frame. Something shifted. Behind the painting was a hidden compartment. Inside lay a leather-bound album. Newspaper clippings spilled onto the floor.

TECH HEIR’S WIFE DISAPPEARS

ELENA VOSS VANISHES WITHOUT TRACE

POLICE SUSPECT FOUL PLAY

Evie’s pulse quickened as she read. Elena had disappeared when Kael was five.

Rumors of poison.

Affairs.

Corporate warfare.

Then another name appeared again and again.

Victoria Voss.

The woman who replaced her. The woman now trying to destroy Evie. A chill slid down Evie’s spine.

If Kael had really faked his death… maybe this family had been trying to kill him since childhood.

Her phone buzzed.

Evie nearly dropped the album. The screen lit up with a name that instantly softened her chest.

Mom.

Evie hurried to the master suite, propping her laptop on the massive four-poster bed. The screen flickered to life, revealing her mom’s face—pale but smiling, propped up in a plush private hospital bed at Mount Sinai.

“Baby girl,” her mother said. “You look… different. Is that a new sweater? And where are you? This doesn’t look like your apartment.”

Evie forced a smile, adjusting the camera to hide the opulent bedroom behind her. “Just a friend’s place, Mom. How are you feeling? The doctors said the new treatment is working wonders.”

Her mother’s eyes lit up. “Like a miracle, Evie. No more nausea, and my energy’s coming back. They say if this keeps up, I could be in remission by summer. All thanks to that anonymous donor—can you believe it? Paid for everything.”

Tears pricked Evie’s eyes. The ‘anonymous donor’ was the fifty million dollars burning a hole in her new account, funneled through Thorne’s channels. Seeing her mother’s improved condition—the color in her cheeks, the hope in her voice—strengthened Evie’s resolve like steel. She would endure the lies, the threats, the shadows. For this.

***

The mansion changed after midnight. The staff vanished. The halls fell silent.

Evie slipped from her bedroom in a silk robe and bare feet, her pulse hammering with anticipation. The study waited at the end of the hall. The same room where she signed the contract. The same mirror where she’d seen that shadow behind her.

The oak door creaked as she pushed it open. Moonlight spilled across the desk. Across Kael’s portrait. Across the empty room.

Evie swallowed. “Hello?” Her voice barely rose above a whisper. “You told me to come.”

Silence.

Then…

Click.

Kael’s portrait shifted.

The entire frame swung open like a door. A tall figure stepped from the hidden alcove. Black cloak. Mask covering the upper half of his face.

But the rest of him…

Strong jaw. Full lips. Broad shoulders that filled the doorway. And the scent. Cedar. Leather. Warm and dangerously masculine. It wrapped around Evie like invisible hands.

Her back hit the desk as she instinctively stepped away. “Who are you?”

The man moved closer. Slow. Deliberate. Every step made the air between them tighter. “Don’t be afraid, Evelyn,” he said softly.

His voice was low.

Rough.

Intimate.

The same voice that whispered through her bedroom door.

“I’m on Kael’s side.”

Her breath hitched.

“You’re saying he’s alive?”

The man stopped just inches away. Too close. She could feel the heat radiating from his body. Feel his gaze tracing her face… her lips… the curve of her throat.

“Kael Voss didn’t die in that crash,” he murmured. “He disappeared.”

Evie’s heart slammed against her ribs. “Why?”

His gloved hand slowly lifted.

Evie’s eyes widened as the masked man’s gloved fingers brushed her cheek, a touch light as a feather but electric, sending sparks down her spine. His thumb traced her jawline, tilting her face up. His masked eyes burning into hers with an intensity that made her knees weak.

She should pull away. Scream. Run.

But instead, her eyelids fluttered closed. The leather glove was smooth, warm from his skin beneath. It sent tingles racing across her face, down her neck, pooling low in her belly. His touch lingered, gentle but possessive, thumb grazing the sensitive spot under her ear.

Evie leaned into it unconsciously. She wanted more—the glove gone, his bare fingers exploring, tracing lower, igniting the fire building inside her. The danger, the mystery…

Then he placed something in her palm. A small gold locket. “Open it later,” he whispered. “Inside is the reason he chose you.”

Evie looked up… and realized just how close they were now.

His breath brushed her cheek. “Tell me something first, Evelyn…”

Her pulse thundered. “What?”

His thumb lifted slightly barely grazing the inside of her wrist. A spark shot through her body.

“If Kael Voss walked through that door right now…” His gaze darkened. “would you still pretend to be his widow?”

Evie’s lips parted. But before she could answer, sirens exploded through the mansion.

Red emergency lights flooded the room.

The masked man froze. “Damn it,” he muttered.

Evie’s heart stopped. “What happened?”

His eyes snapped toward the door. “Run!”

***