The One Nobody Knew Novels & Stories

And in my chest, my heart was beating so loud, I almost didn’t hear the faint buzz of my clutch on the bed. A new message.From an unknown number. (Unknown): Cara Mia, I see you chose the ogre tonight. Don’t worry. We’ll talk soon

What I didn’t know was what Maxwell had intended to do with any of it. And that gap that specific gap between what I knew and what I didn’t was where everything lived. Where the anger lived. Where the something-that-wasn’t-quite-hope-but-wasn’t-quite-dead-yet lived. I needed more. I started small. Careful. Methodical. The way you move when you’re searching inside a house that watches you. I had a name the holding company that had purchased the gym. The attendant had been tight lipped but the sale of a business left records. Public records. The kind accessible to anyone who knew where to look and had enough patience.

"But I was set up, Irene! I was innocent. Someone drugged me with an aphrodisiac. Lily did it on purpose!" I sneered as I coldly looked at the remorse etched across his face. "Do you really think you're innocent?" I asked. Back when we were newly mated, someone had spiked him with an aphrodisiac during a pack gathering. A she-wolf had slipped into his territory while I was away, pretending to be me and trying to seduce him. Carlen had recognized immediately that it wasn't me and thrown her out. After seven years together, we knew each other's scent down to the bone. So why didn't he recognize that it wasn't me that night?

John explained. “I know, boss, it’s a lot to take in, but since you can’t remember on your own, I’ll help you remember. There were some bad guys after Ella and you decided to look them up. That's what got us into this mess. Remember the name Jake Baxter?” He asked, and my body went numb. Shivers ran through me instantly. How did he know about Jake Baxter?

One day, Caspian said he wanted tiramisu from an old bakery in the northern part of the city. It was something I used to love two years ago. Eventually, I drove out alone. Halfway along a remote coastal road, the car suddenly broke down. I got out to check. I was still trying to figure out the problem when a handkerchief with a sharp smell was pressed over my mouth and nose. Right before I lost consciousness, I thought of how painfully cliché it was.

The ones that had stopped for nearly a month, giving me the stupid, naive impression that whoever was watching us had finally grown bored and moved on. I reached out, my skin breaking into goosebumps as I swiped the notification. [Unknown]: He did this. But he's not working alone. I read it once. The letters were small against the black background. I read it a second time, my breath freezing in the middle of my throat.

‎No… no, no, no… ‎I bend quickly, picking it up with trembling fingers. ‎My hands are shaking. ‎Who sent this? ‎I check the sender. ‎Unknown number. ‎Again. ‎My pulse quickens. ‎How does this person know about my wedding with Victor? ‎I haven’t even agreed yet. The date hasn’t even been announced. My breath catches. ‎“Oh no…” ‎My uncle. My missing uncle. We’ve searched for years. ‎Nothing. Absolutely nothing. ‎And now.... ‎Someone claims to know where he is?

I propped myself against the headboard at six in the morning and wrote the date, and under it, in capitals, WHAT DO WE ACTUALLY KNOW. I have spent a long time of my working life reading documents, and the one lesson that has never failed me is that the people who lie to you are rarely tidy about it. They leave seams. You do not find them by deciding who is guilty. You find them by laying the facts side by side and looking for the places where they don't quite meet. I wrote down what I had. One. A text in the night, from "Petit", sending Julien up the hill before dawn. Petit's name. Whose number?

She wrote one word at the top:CONTROLThen beneath it:COLLAPSE And then after a moment of hesitation a third.UNKNOWNMarcus stepped closer.“That’s him.”Everlyn nodded.“Yes.”Jesse leaned against the wall.“So we have three sides now.Everlyn corrected him. “No.”“We have three directions.” She circled the last word. UNKNOWN. “Because we don’t know what he actually wants.” Marcus crossed his arms. “We know what he doesn’t want.” Everlyn glanced at him.

Only then did I notice a message from an unfamiliar number sitting in my inbox. [Cynthia, there's been a flood here. Your dad and I probably won't make it. We finally understand what you went through back then. You were all alone in a foreign place, and you must've been so helpless. Maybe this is our punishment. We're sorry. We don't ask for your forgiveness. We only hope you can forget about us and keep walking toward a brighter future.] I didn't feel a trace of satisfaction when I read it. After all, they had raised me for eighteen years.