Chapter 3

Eliana signed the contract the following morning. She read it one final time before putting pen to paper, although she already knew there was nothing on those pages that could surprise her anymore. The restrictions were still there. The confidentiality clause was still there. The twelve-month term was still there.

And so was the number.

$10,000,000.

Her hand hovered above the signature line. For a moment, she thought about walking away.

She thought about her father's hospital room, the machines beside his bed, and the way he always tried to smile whenever she entered as though he couldn't see how exhausted she was.

She thought about the bank notice sitting unanswered in her apartment. Then she signed.

She stared at her name for several seconds.

Eliana Hart.

It looked strangely permanent. Adrian collected the contract and placed it inside his briefcase.

"Mr. Wolfe will have the arrangements made immediately."

Eliana looked up.

"How immediately?"

"You'll move into Wolfe Manor today."

Her eyebrows drew together.

"Today?"

"That was the agreement."

"I know what the agreement says. I just didn't realize you meant immediately."

Adrian gave her an apologetic look.

"Mr. Wolfe prefers not to leave things uncertain."

Eliana glanced at Ivy. Her friend had been unusually quiet throughout the signing.

Once Adrian left, Ivy turned to her.

"You're actually doing this."

Eliana nodded.

"I am."

Ivy looked at the contract, then at her.

"Do you want me to tell you that you're making a terrible decision?"

"Would you?" Eliana sighed.

"No."

"Good."

"I was going to say that you're making a terrifying decision."

Eliana laughed softly. It was the first real laugh she had managed in days. Then Ivy reached across the table and squeezed her hand.

"Just promise me something."

"What?" Eliana asked, her gaze fixated on her friend’s hand on hers.

"If anything feels wrong, you leave."

Eliana's smile faded.

"You know I can't just leave."

"You know what I mean." Eliana looked toward the window.

The rain had stopped, but the sky remained grey.

"I'll be careful." Ivy shook her head.

"That's not the same thing."

"I know."

She looked down at the contract one last time.

"I'll be careful."

***

By late afternoon, Eliana was standing outside Wolfe Manor. She had seen photographs of the estate online, but none of them had prepared her for the reality of it.

The gates rose several feet above her, black iron twisting into sharp points at the top. Beyond them stood the mansion, enormous and pale beneath the overcast sky, its windows reflecting the fading light.

There was something beautiful about the place. There was also something deeply wrong with it.

Eliana couldn't explain what it was. Perhaps it was the silence, she couldn’t tell.

The estate seemed too quiet for a house that belonged to one of the richest families in the country. There were no children running across the lawn, no guests arriving, no music drifting through open windows. Nothing. Just the distant sound of the wind moving through the trees.

The gates opened and her assigned driver entered the estate. Eliana watched the gates close behind her and the sound echoed through the car.

She turned around. For some reason, she couldn't stop looking at the gates. They looked less like an entrance now, and more like a warning. The car stopped in front of the mansion.

A woman was waiting at the entrance. She appeared to be in her sixties, dressed in a dark uniform with silver buttons. Her posture was straight, her expression composed.

"Mrs. Wolfe," she said.

Eliana almost corrected her but then remembered. That was what she was now.

"Mrs. Brooks?" The woman nodded.

"Yes."

Eliana stepped out of the car. Mrs. Brooks looked at her for a moment longer than necessary.

Then her expression changed slightly.

"You look younger than the others."

Eliana frowned.

"The others?" At that, Mrs. Brooks seemed to realize what she had said.

"Forgive me."

"Who are the others?" Mrs. Brooks turned toward the entrance.

"You should come inside. Mr. Wolfe is expecting you."

Eliana followed her. She had barely crossed the threshold when she felt it again.

That strange stillness. The interior was magnificent, but it lacked warmth. Everything appeared carefully arranged, from the furniture to the paintings hanging along the walls.

It didn't feel like a home.  It felt like a place preserved exactly as it was supposed to be. As though nobody was allowed to disturb it.

Eliana looked up at the portraits lining the hallway. Several generations of Wolfes stared back at her. She slowed when she reached one particular painting.

A woman stood beside a younger Drevian. She was elegant, dark-haired, and smiling. Eliana knew immediately who she was.

"That's Isabella," Mrs. Brooks said.

Eliana turned.

"The first Mrs. Wolfe?" Mrs. Brooks nodded.

"What happened to her?" There was a pause.

"She died." Eliana almost rolled her eyes, but she stopped herself before she could.

"I know that."

Mrs. Brooks's eyes flickered toward the portrait.

"Then perhaps you know enough."

Eliana studied her. There was something in the woman's voice that made the answer feel less like information and more like a warning.

"How did she die?" She asked but Mrs. Brooks didn't answer. Instead, she continued walking.

Eliana followed, but her attention remained on the portrait until it disappeared behind them.

She had expected to feel nervous about marrying Drevian Wolfe. What she hadn't expected was to feel as though she had stepped into the middle of a story that had already begun without her.

***

Drevian was waiting in the dining room. He stood beside the long table with one hand resting against the back of a chair.

When Eliana entered, his gaze moved over her briefly before settling on her face.

"You're here."

"You expected me." She answered curtly.

"I did."

She looked around.

"This place is bigger than I expected."

"It doesn't need to be."

"Then why is it?" Drevian almost smiled.

"Because my father built it that way." The answer made her look at him.

"Your father?" He nodded.

"Yes."

"What was he like?" Eliana found herself asking.

"He was complicated."

"That's an interesting answer." Eliana shrugged.

"It's an honest one." Eliana pulled out a chair and sat.

Drevian took the seat opposite her. Dinner was served quietly and for several minutes, neither of them spoke. Eliana tried to eat, but the silence made her increasingly uncomfortable.

She finally placed her fork down.

"Do you always eat like this?"

Drevian looked up with his brows raised at her question.

"Like what?"

"Like you're attending a funeral."

Drevian looked at her, seriously now. Then, he continued his meal. Eliana studied him.

"You really don't talk much."

"I talk when I have something to say."

"That's convenient." Eliana said.

"For whom?"

"For you." He looked at her for a moment.

"You ask a lot of questions."

"You married me."

"I haven't married you yet." Eliana raised an eyebrow.

"That's your concern?"

"Legally, yes." She almost smiled.

Her gaze drifted around the room. There were no family photographs, no flowers, no signs of ordinary life. Even the dining table seemed too carefully arranged to have been used.

"Why do you live like this?"

Drevian's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Like what?"

"Like you're waiting for everyone to leave."

He looked at her for several seconds, and then his gaze moved toward the empty chair beside him.

"I am." The answer caught her off guard.

She expected denial. Instead, his voice had become quieter.

"People eventually do."

Something about the way he said it made Eliana stop herself from asking another question. For the first time, she wondered what had happened to him before all the rumours, the money and the dead wives. Then a sound came from somewhere beyond the dining room.

A faint sob. Eliana's head turned.

"Did you hear that?" she asked.

"No."

Another sound came. It was a woman's quiet crying. This time, Drevian heard it too.

Eliana stood.

"Someone's crying." Drevian rose as well.

"Stay here."

"Why?"

"Because I said so." She stared at him.

"You can't be serious."

"Eliana." The tone of his voice stopped her.

It was not anger. What Eliana sensed in the tone was fear. But, it lasted only a second.

Then it was gone. Drevian walked toward the door and Eliana followed.

He turned, stopping her in her tracks.

"I told you to stay here."

"And I told you I ask questions."

"This isn't a game." Drevian said, a subtle sign of frustration at the lady’s persistence flashed across his face.

"I know."

He stared at her, and in that moment, the crying stopped. The silence that followed was even worse.

Drevian walked into the hallway. Eliana remained where she was for several seconds before following him.

The hallway was empty and the sound had disappeared completely. She looked toward the far end of the corridor.

A door stood slightly open.

"What's in there?" she couldn’t stop herself from asking.

"Nothing."

"Then why is the door open?" Drevian closed it.

"Go upstairs."

Eliana watched him walk away. She could tell something was wrong. She didn't know what just yet. But she was beginning to understand that the stories about Wolfe Manor were probably not exaggerated.

***

That night, Eliana couldn't sleep. She lay awake in the unfamiliar bedroom, staring at the ceiling.

The room was beautiful, and the bed was enormous. The sheets were softer than anything she had ever owned. There was a private sitting area, a walk-in closet and a bathroom larger than her old apartment. She had ten million dollars waiting for her, and she had never felt less free.

She got out of bed, crossed the room and opened the curtains. The estate stretched beneath the moonlight and her eyes moved toward the eastern side of the house.

That section was darker than the rest. In that moment, she remembered the closed door downstairs.

She remembered the crying woman and Drevian's reaction. Eliana stepped away from the window. She was about to return to bed when she noticed something on the bedside table.

It was a photograph. Somehow, she was certain it hadn't been there earlier, so she picked it up.

It showed Isabella, the woman from the portrait. But this photograph was different.

She wasn't smiling. She was standing somewhere inside the estate, looking over her shoulder, as though someone had called her name. On the back was a handwritten message.

Eliana turned it over. Three words were written across the paper.

SHE KNEW TOO MUCH.

Eliana's fingers tightened around the photograph and then she heard it again.

A woman's sob.

This time, it came from somewhere inside the east wing. Eliana slowly looked toward the bedroom door. And for the first time since arriving at Wolfe Manor, she understood something that frightened her more than the contract ever had.

Someone else was in the house.