Chapter 3
Adrian answers my accusation without blinking.
"I know everything."
He opens the door wider.
"Get in."
I get in.
The SUV is warm. Leather. Dark glass. A driver I can't see. Adrian slides in beside me, and the doors lock with a soft click that sounds like a cage.
For a moment, neither of us speaks. The car pulls away from the church. The funeral recedes behind us like a bad dream.
I break first.
"Where is Celeste?"
Adrian's jaw tightens. Just a fraction. If I hadn't been staring at him, I would have missed it.
"Who?"
"Don't."
My voice shakes.
"Her name is inside this ring. You know her. You knew I would find it."
He looks at me then. Really looks. His eyes are pale gray, almost colorless in the winter light. They make me feel dissected.
"Celeste Voss,"
he says slowly,
"signed a contract with my uncle three years ago. She broke it. She disappeared. That's all I know."
"You're lying."
"I'm simplifying."
He reaches into the seat pocket and pulls out a folder. Thick. Cream-colored. Expensive. He drops it into my lap.
"What is this?"
"Your new life."
I open it. The first page is a non-disclosure agreement. The second is a timeline. Thirty days. The third is a list of rules.
Rule One: You will reside at Blackwood Manor until the estate is settled.
Rule Two: You will present yourself as the widow of Elias Blackwood at all public and private events.
Rule Three: You will not remove the ring.
Rule Four: You will not contact the press, the police, or any member of the Voss family.
Rule Five: You will obey Adrian Blackwood in all matters concerning security.
I read Rule Five twice. Then I laugh. It comes out broken.
"Obey you?"
"It's not a marriage vow."
His voice is dry.
"It's survival."
"I'm not signing this."
"Then you'll never see her again."
The words hit me like a slap.
I look up.
"You said you didn't know where she is."
"I said that's all I know."
He leans back.
"I didn't say I can't find out."
The car turns onto a highway. The city disappears. Trees. Walls. Iron gates in the distance.
My phone buzzes.
I pull it from my clutch. Unknown number. A photo.
I open it.
Celeste.
She's alive. She's tied to a chair. Her hair is shorter. There's a bruise on her cheek. Tape covers her mouth. Her eyes are open. She's staring at the camera.
I can't breathe.
The phone buzzes again. A text.
Listen to Adrian. He is the only one who can keep you alive.
I turn the screen toward Adrian.
"What is this?"
He looks at the photo. For one second, something crosses his face. Not surprise. Something older. Pain, maybe. Or guilt.
Then it's gone.
"That,"
he says,
"is why you're going to sign the contract."
"Who sent this?"
"Someone who wants you in Blackwood Manor."
"Why?"
The SUV slows. Through the window, I see the gates. Tall. Black. Wrought iron with sharp points. Beyond them, a house rises against the gray sky. Not a house. A fortress. Stone. Glass. Shadows.
Adrian turns to me. His eyes are cold again.
"Because you're not a widow, Mara."
He says my real name for the first time. It sounds like a threat.
"You're bait."
The gates open.
The car drives through.
And behind us, they close with a sound like a lock.
The Blackwood Manor doesn't welcome you. It studies you.