Chapter 3 - The Woman Who Knew Cassian’s Darkest Secret
The Vale estate was nothing like I expected.
There were no gold statues.
No loud parties.
No women draped over expensive furniture.
Instead, there were books.
Too many books.
Dark wooden shelves.
Quiet halls.
Security cameras hidden in corners.
And a massive kitchen where the chef seemed personally offended by every frozen meal in existence.
I woke at six the next morning to find a note outside my door.
Breakfast at seven.
No signature.
I assumed it was from Cassian.
It wasn’t.
It was from an elderly woman named Beatrice, the estate manager, who looked me up and down and said, “You’re not Evelyn.”
“I know.”
She stared at me.
“I like you already.”
That became the strangest sentence of my week.
The staff gradually learned what had happened.
By the third day, no one called me Mrs. Vale.
They called me Lydia.
Cassian kept his distance.
He worked late.
He attended meetings.
He disappeared for hours.
But every night at exactly eleven, he checked the security system outside my door.
I knew because I could hear the elevator.
I never mentioned it.
On the sixth night, I found him sitting alone in the library.
“You’re awake.”
He looked up.
“So are you.”
“I heard something.”
“Someone moving through the west hall?”
“Yes.”
His expression sharpened.
“Stay here.”
He stood.
I followed.
“Lydia.”
“I’m not going back upstairs.”
He sighed.
“Fine. Stay behind me.”
We reached the hallway.
A vase had been knocked over.
Nothing else.
Then we heard footsteps.
Cassian moved instantly.
He pushed me behind him.
A man emerged from the shadows.
It was Thomas.
Cassian relaxed slightly.
“Problem?”
Thomas looked at me.
“We found someone on the property.”
“Who?”
“A groundskeeper.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Then bring him in.”
The groundskeeper confessed within minutes.
Someone had paid him to leave the east gate unlocked.
He didn't know why.
Cassian did.
Someone was testing security.
That night, the first attack happened.
A bullet shattered the library window.
Cassian grabbed me and dragged me to the floor.
My body hit his chest.
His arm covered the back of my head.
Another shot.
Then silence.
I realized he was breathing hard.
Not from fear.
From rage.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
He pulled back.
His eyes moved over me.
“Good.”
“You?”
“I’m fine.”
His shirt was torn at the shoulder.
Blood appeared.
“You are not fine.”
“It’s a graze.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“So are you.”
I looked down.
A small cut marked my cheek.
Cassian touched it carefully.
His fingers were warm.
For one moment, neither of us moved.
Then he stepped away.
“Doctor.”
“I don’t need one.”
“I wasn’t asking.”
The doctor arrived.
The bullet had struck the frame.
Whoever fired it had not been trying to kill us.
They had been trying to send a message.
The next morning, Cassian showed me the bullet.
“There’s an engraving.”
I looked closely.
A tiny symbol.
A silver bird.
“Do you know it?”
Cassian nodded.
“The Voss network.”
My stomach dropped.
“Then they know where I am.”
“Yes.”
“Because of Evelyn?”
“Probably.”
He looked at me.
“Or because of someone here.”
That possibility terrified me more.
One person in the house was a traitor.
We just didn't know who.
That afternoon, a woman arrived without warning.
She was elegant, blonde, and cold-eyed.
She walked through the foyer like she owned it.
Cassian came downstairs.
His face changed.
“Clara.”
I froze.
Clara smiled.
“Still alive, I see.”
“Why are you here?”
“To warn her.”
She pointed at me.
Cassian’s jaw tightened.
“She’s not one of them.”
Clara laughed softly.
“That’s what I thought too.”
She turned to me.
“My name is Clara Whitmore.”
One of Cassian’s ex-wives.
My heart skipped.
“Which number?”
“Five.”
Cassian looked away.
Clara continued.
“I didn’t leave him because he was cruel.”
She stepped closer.
“I left because I discovered his mother was working with Elias Voss.”
My mouth fell open.
“What?”
Cassian’s eyes snapped toward her.
“You said you had no proof.”
“I found proof after I left.”
She handed him a flash drive.
“I found it inside Evelyn’s luggage.”
Cassian took it.
“Where is Evelyn?”
Clara smiled sadly.
“I don’t know.”
Then she looked at me.
“But I know why they picked you.”
“Why?”
“Because your father wasn’t killed in a warehouse accident.”
The room went silent.
My knees weakened.
“What did you say?”
Clara looked at Cassian.
“She needs to know.”
He said nothing.
Clara whispered.
“Your father worked for Elias Voss.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“He tried to leave.”
“No.”
“He was going to expose a smuggling operation.”
“That’s impossible.”
“My father?”
Clara nodded.
“He disappeared after sending evidence to someone.”
“Who?”
Clara’s eyes moved to Cassian.
“My father?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
“Cassian’s father.”
I stared at Cassian.
He looked like the world had stopped.
“My father knew yours,” he said.
“How?”
“They worked together.”
“For Voss?”
“Yes.”
I stepped backward.
“You knew?”
“I suspected.”
“You suspected my father was connected to the people hunting me?”
“I didn’t know until today.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I was still investigating.”
“That’s convenient.”
He didn't argue.
That somehow hurt more.
Clara stepped between us.
“There’s more.”
She pulled out a folded letter.
“I found this six years ago.”
She handed it to me.
The handwriting was unmistakable.
My father’s.
Lydia,
If anything happens to me, do not trust the Aldridges.
Your mother has the key.
Protect her.
I read it twice.
Then a third time.
“My mother?”
Clara nodded.
“The Aldridges were involved.”
The truth came crashing down.
The employee cottage.
The medical assistance.
The years of control.
They had not rescued my mother.
They had watched her.
Used her.
My vision blurred.
Cassian took one step toward me.
I raised my hand.
“Don’t.”
He stopped.
“I need to see my mother.”
“You will.”
“Now.”
He nodded.
“Now.”
We drove to the hospital.
My mother was awake.
When I showed her the letter, she closed her eyes.
“I knew this day would come.”
My heart broke.
“You knew?”
She started crying.
“Your father gave me something the night before he died.”
“What?”
“A key.”
She reached beneath her pillow.
From a small fabric pouch, she pulled a silver key.
I recognized the bird-shaped engraving.
The same symbol as the bullet.
Cassian stared at it.
“Where did you get this?”
“My husband told me to give it to Lydia when the time was right.”
I whispered.
“What does it open?”
My mother looked at Cassian.
“Something your father wanted hidden from the Aldridges.”
Cassian went very still.
“Where?”
She looked at me.
“Under the old boathouse.”
My blood ran cold.
The boathouse.
On Aldridge property.
The place no employee was allowed near.
That night, we went there.
Cassian brought Thomas and two guards.
The key opened a rusted metal box beneath the floorboards.
Inside was a ledger.
Names.
Dates.
Payments.
Shipping routes.
And photographs.
The final photograph showed Evelyn.
Standing beside Daniel Aldridge.
And beside them was Elias Voss.
The date was three months ago.
Cassian stared at it.
Then I noticed something.
Evelyn was not smiling.
She was afraid.
And on the back, she had written:
IF LYDIA IS BROUGHT INTO THIS, SHE IS NOT THE TARGET.
SHE IS THE WITNESS.
I looked at Cassian.
“What witness?”
He had no answer.
But then another paper fell from the box.
A list.
Six names.
Six wives.
Next to each name was one sentence.
And next to Lydia Carter:
PRIMARY SURVIVOR.
My heart pounded.
“Survivor of what?”
Cassian picked up the final document.
His face went white.
“My God.”
“What?”
He turned the paper toward me.
It was a medical report.
My father had not died from an accident.
He had been poisoned.
And the physician who signed the report twenty-two years ago was still alive.
May you like
He was the current head cardiologist at Vale Medical Center.
The same doctor treating my mother.
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