Chapter 25

Julian stood by the doorway like a storm ready to strike. His eyes swept the room—letters scattered across the desk, the cracked-open riddle from Marcus, the tension dripping off the walls. His jaw tightened, and when he finally spoke, his voice was cold.

“You think this is a game?”

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You’re digging through things you don’t understand,” he said, stepping inside. “Reading letters, unlocking rooms, acting like you belong here.”

“I do belong here,” I snapped. “Your grandfather made sure of that.”

Julian let out a bitter laugh. “No. You’re a fraud.”

The word stung like a slap.

“You think being written into a will makes you a Lachlan? That this house is yours just because George signed your name on a piece of paper?”

I stood up straight. “You don’t get to tell me who I am.”

“No,” he said. “But the truth will. And when it does, it’s going to crush you.”

He turned on his heel and slammed the door on his way out.

For a second, I couldn’t breathe. Julian wasn’t just angry—he was scared. Of what, though? Of me? Of the truth, I was getting close to?

The door creaked again, but it wasn’t Julian this time.

It was Marcus

He moved calmly, quietly, like he’d been waiting in the shadows. He stepped inside and shut the door with a soft click.

“You shouldn’t have asked about Eloise,” he said.

“I didn’t even know her name until today,” I replied. “Now everyone’s acting like I summoned a ghost.”

Marcus looked… tired. “Linda told you, didn’t she?”

I nodded.

He gave a small, humorless laugh. “Linda isn’t a girl. She’s a hurricane in heels. And every woman in that company follows her like she’s royalty.”

He crossed the room and leaned against the wall. “What exactly did she say?”

“She talked about this house,” I answered. “About you… all of you. And Eloise.”

Marcus stayed silent, but I could tell he was waiting for the truth. Not just bits and pieces—all of it.

“She said Eloise spent too much time with the Lachlan brothers… and then she died.” The words came out faster than I wanted them to, like they were burning my tongue.

Marcus flinched. Just a little. But I saw it.

“Her name was Eloise,” he said quietly. “And she wasn’t just some girl.”

There was something thick in his voice. Grief, maybe. Or guilt.

I didn’t know what else to say. We stood there, not looking at each other. The air felt full of things left unsaid.

I walked to the bookshelf and tapped the edge of the riddle Marcus had given me. “Your letter… it was different from mine.”

“George always liked speaking in riddles,” Marcus replied. “Even when he was saying nothing, he made it sound like it meant everything.”

“Still… It’s weird, right?” I said. “Why leave us clues at all?”

Marcus looked up. “Because George never trusted anyone. Not fully. Not even us.”

I turned to him. “Did Eloise die because of him?”

There was a long silence. Then he said, “It’s not that simple.”

“Then tell me what is simple,” I asked. “Because right now, I’m trying to put together a puzzle without knowing what the picture is.”

Marcus looked up, his green eyes hard. “Then be careful where you look. This house—it doesn’t like the truth. It hides it.”

My throat felt tight. “Why won’t anyone give me a straight answer?”

“Because even the truth is twisted in this house,” he said. “People see what they want. Believe what they can handle.”

I walked to the edge of the bed and sat down. “I’m not trying to tear anything apart. I just… want to understand.”

Marcus took a few steps toward me, then stopped. “Sometimes understanding ruins everything.”

There was a silence between us, thick and strange.

“She wasn’t just someone we liked,” he said. “She was part of something deeper. Something that shouldn’t have happened.”

A knock interrupted us.

Kaira walked in without waiting. “Okay, no one else is going to say it, so I will.” She looked around, her arms folded. “This house is creepy. Like, actual horror movies are creepy. I can’t even sleep with the lights off anymore.”

“Something’s not right,” she said. “I keep hearing sounds. Whispers. Doors creaking when no one’s near them.”

“You’re just being paranoid,” Marcus muttered.

Kaira turned to him. “No. I’m being real. This place has a vibe, and it’s dark.”

She looked at me next. “You’re the only one who doesn’t seem scared.”

“I am scared,” I whispered. “I just don’t know what to do.”

Clara entered then, stepping into the room with her usual careful expression. But her eyes flicked between all of us with more tension than usual.

“I need to speak with you,” she said, her voice lower than normal. One minute Clara said, she couldn't tell about the dead girl and now she wants to talk.

Kaira looked confused. “About what?”

Clara ignored her and turned to me. “Privately.”

Kaira frowned. “Seriously? Again?”

“I’ll be quick,” Clara said.

Marcus nodded to me once and left the room. Kaira followed him, reluctantly.

Now it was just me and Clara.

I waited. She didn’t speak right away.

“Linda…” she finally said, “wasn’t supposed to talk to you.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s connected to the people who want to destroy this family.”

My chest tightened. “She told me about Eloise.”

Clara sighed. “She would.”

“Was she lying?”

“No.” Clara looked down. “But she left things out too.”

“Like what?”

“She didn’t tell you that Eloise was warned. Like you are now. She didn’t listen.”

I felt like I was falling down a hole with no end.

“Was she in love with one of the brothers?” I asked.

Clara looked at me. “More than one.”

The room spun a little. “That sounds… familiar.”

“She thought she could handle it,” Clara whispered. “She thought she could win. But this house doesn’t let you win. It plays by its own rules.”

“I don’t care about rules,” I said.

“You will,” Clara replied. “When you see what it costs.”

I turned away. My hands shook as I reached for the letters again. There had to be a reason George left all this behind. A reason he chose me.

“You can’t keep bringing up the past,” Clara said. “You think these riddles are leading you somewhere safe? They’re leading you into the heart of something no one ever made it out of.”

“I don’t believe that,” I said.

“You should.”

Why are they stopping me from going to the old garden wing? Clara knows more about the lachlan’s yet she won't give me the answers I want.