Chapter 4:The Unknown Number

Chapter Four

The Unknown Number

Lena stared at the message until the screen began to dim.

You shouldn’t have married him.

Her first instinct was to reply.

Instead, she locked her phone.

Her heart was beating too fast.

Who was this?

And how did they know about the wedding?

She looked toward the hallway.

Adrian was gone.

Lena unlocked her phone again and typed:

Who is this?

She hesitated before pressing send.

The message delivered immediately.

No response.

She waited.

Thirty seconds.

A minute.

Nothing.

“Mrs. Blackwood?”

Lena nearly dropped her phone.

She turned around.

Mrs. Miller stood several feet away.

“Sorry,” Lena said. “You startled me.”

“I apologize.”

The older woman smiled gently.

“Your room is ready.”

Lena followed her upstairs.

As they walked, she noticed how quiet the mansion was.

Too quiet.

There were several staff members moving through the halls, but everyone seemed unusually careful.

Almost nervous.

“Mrs. Miller?”

“Yes?”

“How long have you worked here?”

“Almost twelve years.”

“Twelve?”

“Yes.”

“Then you knew Sophia well?”

Mrs. Miller slowed.

“I knew Miss Sophia.”

Lena caught the hesitation.

“What does that mean?”

The woman gave a small smile.

“Some people are easier to know than others.”

Before Lena could ask another question, they reached the bedroom.

Mrs. Miller opened the door.

The room was enormous.

A king-sized bed stood in the center, surrounded by elegant furniture and floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the gardens.

Lena stepped inside.

“This is mine?”

“Yes, Mrs. Blackwood.”

The title still sounded strange.

She placed her phone on the table.

“Thank you.”

Mrs. Miller nodded.

She was about to leave when Lena called her.

“Wait.”

The woman turned.

“Did Sophia ever stay in this room?”

Mrs. Miller’s face became unreadable.

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

She paused.

“Miss Sophia had another room.”

“Where?”

Mrs. Miller hesitated.

“I’m not permitted to say.”

“Why?”

“Mr. Blackwood’s instructions.”

Lena frowned.

That was strange.

Very strange.

Before she could ask anything else, Mrs. Miller left.

Lena closed the door.

She walked toward the window.

The gardens stretched endlessly beneath her.

Beautiful.

Perfect.

And somehow suffocating.

Her phone vibrated.

Lena spun around.

Another message.

He doesn’t know what his father did.

Her blood ran cold.

She typed immediately.

What are you talking about?

The reply came almost instantly.

Ask Adrian about the night your father disappeared.

Lena stopped breathing.

Her father had never disappeared.

At least, not that she knew of.

She stared at the screen.

Then another message appeared.

Don’t trust anyone in that house.

The conversation ended.

Lena tried calling the number.

It was switched off.

She stood there, frozen.

What kind of game was this?

And why was someone talking about her father?

A knock sounded at the door.

Lena quickly put her phone away.

“Come in.”

The door opened.

Adrian stood there.

He had removed his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt.

He looked less like the untouchable CEO from the wedding and more like an exhausted man who had spent the entire day dealing with problems.

“Are you settled?”

“Yes.”

He looked around.

“Good.”

Lena watched him carefully.

“Can I ask you something?”

“You already are.”

She ignored the comment.

“What happened between our families?”

Adrian went still.

It lasted only a second.

But Lena noticed.

“What makes you ask that?”

“Nothing.”

“Lena.”

His voice was sharper now.

“Why are you asking?”

She looked at him.

Because a stranger had just told her that his father had something to do with hers.

Because Sophia had disappeared.

Because everyone seemed to know something except her.

Instead, she said, “I was just curious.”

Adrian’s expression remained guarded.

“Our families have been partners for years.”

“That’s all?”

“Yes.”

He turned toward the door.

Lena watched him leave.

Then she noticed something.

A small dark mark on his wrist.

Almost like a scar.

“Adrian.”

He stopped.

“What?”

“Your wrist.”

His hand immediately moved over the mark.

“Old injury.”

“How did it happen?”

His expression changed.

“It’s not important.”

Then he walked away.

Lena stared at the closed door.

Everything about this man came with a locked door.

And somehow, she had a feeling her marriage had just handed her the keys.

⸻

That evening, Lena sat alone at the dinner table.

Adrian hadn’t joined her.

She wasn’t surprised.

She had barely eaten when Mrs. Miller appeared.

“Mrs. Blackwood?”

“Yes?”

“There is a package for you.”

Lena frowned.

“For me?”

“Yes.”

The woman placed a small brown envelope on the table.

There was no name on it.

No address.

Nothing.

Lena stared at it.

“Who delivered it?”

“A courier.”

“Did you see him?”

“No.”

Lena slowly opened the envelope.

Inside was a photograph.

Her fingers froze.

It was old.

The edges were worn.

Two men stood outside what looked like an old warehouse.

One was her father.

The other was a much younger version of Adrian’s father.

Lena turned the photograph over.

There were four words written on the back.

Ask what happened here.

Her hands began to tremble.

She looked toward Mrs. Miller.

The woman had gone pale.

“You know this place,” Lena whispered.

Mrs. Miller didn’t answer.

“Mrs. Miller?”

The woman looked at the photograph.

Then she whispered,

“You should never have been brought into this house.”

Before Lena could respond, the lights suddenly went out.

The mansion fell completely dark.

And somewhere upstairs, a door slammed shut.