Novel & Cerita Hidden Tale

Claire didn’t want to stay another second in this town. “Yes! My baby—my cars, my yacht—I’m coming home!” Matteo cheered, bouncing away toward the hotel. —— Josef’s lessons with Violet had reached their final day. He asked her to wait a moment, then opened the safe beside him and retrieved a tightly sealed box. Violet followed his movements with curiosity. “What is it now? Another treasure for me to see?” Over the past few days, she had already seen enough rare pieces to confirm Edward’s claim: Josef’s private collection rivals a museum. She fully expected him to pull out another vintage artifact. Instead, he placed a brand-new presentation box in front of her.

“Well, if it isn’t young Ari Hale. Looking for another sci-fi romance?” “Not today.” Ari forced a smile. “I was hoping you had local history books. Old ones. Maybe about legends?” Mrs. Wetherby frowned. “The Folklore Shelf. Back left corner. But don’t go believing any of that nonsense.” Ari found the shelf covered in dust. Most of the books hadn’t been opened. She pulled out a heavy tome titled The Hidden Histories of Varro’s Hollow. An hour later, her fingers stopped on a passage:

💌✨ AUTHOR’S NOTE TO MY LOVELY READERS ✨💌 Hello, my lovely readers! 🥹❤️🌙 First of all, I just want to say a HUGE thank you to every single person who has opened Dark Tales of Midnight: A Collection of Taboo Stories and decided to take this journey with me. 🖤🌹✨

“I saw Velise again. Only this time… she wasn’t the one speaking.” Ember leaned forward. “Then who?” Madeline’s hand twitched toward her chest. “It came from her shadow. Like something inside her was trying to push through.” Darius’s stomach twisted. “You mean Reailks.” Madeline nodded weakly. “He’s not gone. He’s never been gone. He’s buried beneath everything, beneath her, beneath Tessa, beneath all of us. The hollow is where he hides.” “The hollow?” Ember echoed. Madeline’s eyes filled with tears. “The old ruins. The caves by the east ridge. That’s where it began. That’s where he was sealed.”

Marcus watched me as if I were a bad joke. "Putting on a show." He sneered. "You think just making a call will" His words died on his lips. Because a loud roar suddenly came from outside the window. Everyone turned their heads, looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows. In the sky, a black private helicopter was slowly descending. On the side of the fuselage, a prominent silver 'V' crest was emblazoned. That was the Vanguard family crest. The entire corridor fell into a deathly silence.

“I m not taking it if its not about some hidden treasure .” I said confidently. He slowly takes the key back. “Hidden treasure?” I shrug. “Yes. I have $50 million already. I'm not exchanging personal trauma for some Victorian family drama.” The ghost stares at me for a long, uncomfortable moment. Then— “...There is treasure.” I immediately sit up. He continues: “Beneath this castle is a chamber that was sealed in 1841. Inside is a collection of gold sovereigns, jewels, and—”

But behind the calm, I could feel it — the pulse of a secret that wouldn’t die just because we were tired of dragging it into the light. Eliana’s voice drifted up the hallway. She was reading to Lucian again — a story about a boy who hid a treasure under a tree that only he could find. The same story, over and over. Maybe she thought if he heard it enough, the truth buried under his skin would make sense when it finally came for him. I stepped into the living room just as Vanessa knocked once and let herself in. She dropped her phone on the counter — screen cracked, her eyes bruised with exhaustion.

“Yes.” He made his way out of the sitting room with all of us on his heels. I caught up to Elara and Xavier. “Did you know he was hiding a key to a mysterious vault?” I asked. Xavier shook his head, but Elara nodded. “Yes. He told me about it when he told me about murdering his family and his awful childhood. It’s his story to tell, so that’s all I’m going to say.” “Fair enough.” I walked close to my mate as we headed along a corridor, then down a wide set of stairs that led beneath the manor house. Torches flickered to life with some kind of Fae magic. They illuminated a smoothly hollowed stone cavern, and an enormous iron gate ahead.

I don't answer, but I feel the words settle into me and stay there, the way a hook settles once it's caught, and I file the location of that descending stairwell away with the same careful attention I gave to the drop point in the reading room, the rope-seller's alley, every small piece of this city's geography that has ever mattered to keeping a secret. Special cases. I think of the quarry, of the folklore, of a story that Theo's grandmother told that doesn't fully match the version the Institution tells its own seven-year-olds. Somewhere beneath my feet, in a lamp-lit room I have no clearance to enter, there may be a record of exactly what actually happened to whoever came before us and ch

The last page is stained and unreadable Evelyn investigates the forest where the river bends—locals call it “The Hollow.” Inside the willow grove, she discovers ancient symbols carved into bark and bones buried beneath moss. An old woman named Maeve warns her: “The river doesn't forget. Neither should you.” Evelyn begins to dream of drowning.