The night air was thick with tension as Eleanor stood on the grand balcony of the Blackthorne estate, her hands gripping the cool marble railing. Below her, the vast estate stretched into the darkness, the gardens illuminated by the golden glow of lanterns. Yet, despite the beauty, an unsettling chill clung to her skin.
Isla's words still echoed in her mind.
"Are you sure he's told you everything?"
Eleanor wanted to believe Alexander. She wanted to trust the man who had claimed her heart so fiercely. But trust was fragile, and secrets—secrets had a way of turning love into ruin.
The sound of approaching footsteps pulled her from her thoughts. She didn't turn; she already knew who it was.
Alexander.
His presence was magnetic, the heat of his body radiating even with the distance between them.
"You've been avoiding me," his voice was low, rough.
Eleanor closed her eyes for a brief second before speaking. "I needed to think."
A moment of silence stretched between them before he finally spoke. "And?"
She turned to face him, her gaze meeting his piercing blue eyes. "Tell me everything, Alexander. No more half-truths."
His jaw tightened, and she saw the war in his eyes.
Then, finally, he sighed. "Come with me."
He reached for her hand, and despite everything, Eleanor let him.
---
A Buried Past
Alexander led her through the dimly lit corridors of the estate, stopping in front of a locked wooden door. With a key he retrieved from his pocket, he unlocked it and pushed it open.
Inside was a room she had never seen before. Unlike the rest of the estate, this one was sparse—bookshelves lined the walls, a large mahogany desk sat in the center, and behind it, a portrait of a woman.
Eleanor's breath caught. The woman bore an uncanny resemblance to Isla.
"Who is she?" she asked.
Alexander exhaled. "Luciana Blackthorne. My mother."
Eleanor's eyes widened. "Your mother?"
He nodded, stepping forward. "She was powerful, ruthless. My father was a mere shadow in comparison. But Luciana… she was the true leader of this family. And she made enemies." His voice darkened. "Lucian was one of them."
A shiver ran down Eleanor's spine.
"My mother destroyed Lucian's empire decades ago," Alexander continued. "And he never forgave her for it. He spent years rebuilding, planning his revenge. When she died… he saw his opportunity."
Eleanor took a shaky breath. "And Isla?"
Alexander's expression turned unreadable. "Lucian claims she's his pawn, but I think it's more than that." He hesitated before adding, "She could be my mother's."
Eleanor's stomach dropped. "What?"
"There are records that suggest my mother had a child before me. A daughter." He turned to face her fully. "And if Isla is that child, then she isn't just after power—she's after what she believes is her birthright."
Eleanor's mind spun. "You think Isla is your sister?"
"I don't know," Alexander admitted. "But if she is, then everything changes."
Eleanor shook her head, trying to process the revelation. Isla had always been a threat, but if she was truly a Blackthorne… she had more claim to this empire than anyone.
And that made her dangerous.
"Why didn't you tell me this before?" Eleanor asked, her voice laced with frustration.
Alexander ran a hand through his hair. "Because I didn't want to believe it. I still don't. But if it's true…" His voice hardened. "Then Isla won't stop until she takes everything."
Eleanor swallowed hard. "Including you?"
His eyes darkened as he stepped closer, his hands gripping her waist. "She can take the name. The wealth. The empire." His voice dropped to a whisper, his breath brushing against her lips. "But she can never take me from you."
Eleanor wanted to believe him.
But the storm was only beginning.
---
The First Strike
The next morning, Eleanor woke to chaos.
Servants rushed through the hallways, hushed whispers spreading like wildfire. Eleanor barely had time to throw on her robe before a frantic maid appeared at her door.
"Miss Eleanor!" The young woman was breathless. "You need to come downstairs. Now."
Eleanor didn't hesitate. She hurried down the grand staircase, her heart pounding with unease.
As she entered the main hall, she froze.
There, standing in the center of the room, was Isla.
And in her hands—was a letter.
"Good morning, dear sister," Isla said sweetly, holding up the letter for everyone to see. "It seems I have something rather interesting to share."
Eleanor's blood ran cold.
She didn't know what Isla had found.
But she knew one thing for certain.
It wasn't good.
---
Next Chapter: A Throne in Shadows
With Isla's revelation shaking the very foundations of the Blackthorne empire, Eleanor and Alexander must fight to uncover the truth before it's too late. But with trust hanging by a thread and betrayal lurking in every corner, the question remains—who will strike first?