My mother raised me well.
“Before you leave,” he blurted out, “I’ve arranged a flight for Sebastian, the girl my daughter is with, and for you. You’ll be leaving tonight. Eloïse told me you’re all in a hurry to leave. They’ll pick you up after dinner.”
After dinner. A few more hours in that house and I would be back in London. I thanked him again, with more feeling than before, and leftthe room.
The hallway was empty. I decided to go back to the lounge. If I couldn’t leave the house until after dinner, it would be better to leave my travel backpack in the room where I had spent the night. I didn’t want my things scattered around that mansion full of strangers.
Unpacking, changing clothes, and packing them away again would keep me busy enough not to think about Enzo.
The word “games” was still stuck in my head. I shook my neck as if I could rid myself of it.
It was around four, and it seemed that everyone who had attended the brunch had retreated to their rooms until evening or until the storm passed. I had just reached the first floor when I heard the sound of high heels on the carpet, a dull but repetitive tap-tap-tap. There was only one person in the lounge. Eloïse Hawtrey-Moore was pacing back and forth, her phone wedged between her head and shoulder, arms crossed in a tense posture. Her voice was soft, yet the closeness made her words distinct:
“Enzo didn’t know about the money,” she said.
I froze at the bottom of the stairs. Eloïse had her back to me and hadn’t seen me yet. I backed away, retracing my steps, but instead of leaving (since it was clear that she was having a private conversation), I went back down the last few steps and rushed towards the curtain that divided the lounge in two. The girl’s words echoed in my chest. I hid among the shadows of the curtain just in time to see Eloïse turn on her heels and walk in my direction.
“Everyone is in their rooms. My father is in his office,” she continued, confirming my suspicions. She hadn’t seen me hide. “It’s the only time I’ve found to answer your calls, Tim.”
Tim? Was Eloïse talking to Timotheo Larousse?
As she passed by me, I could hear a man’s voice through her phone’s speaker, replying to something I didn’t quite catch. It was Larousse, no doubt.
“Am I sure about my brother?” Eloïse said, moving away again. “Of course not! But he won’t tell me anything more. I’ve interrogated him about it. He says he knows nothing. The money is still missing.”
Another pause, followed by:
“The girl who came home… yes, her. She works with Julian’s lawyer, I know. It can’t be a coincidence.”
My chest tightened as my pulse hammered against my ribs, each beat echoing in my ears. Eloïse stepped closer, and I swallowed hard, fearing that the wild thudding in my chest might betray me.
“Nothing…” was all I could make out from Larousse’s words.
Eloïse drifted away, her gaze sweeping the room without pausing, as if I were just another shadow in the corner.
“What should I do now? This case will never end.”
They were talking about me. About Enzo. About Julian. Why? Why was the money connected to all of this?
Someone pulled my arm back, causing me to stumble. I almost toppled over, but a firm hand pressed against the small of my back, steadying me just in time. I caught my breath as I slipped through the curtain’s edge, emerging on the other side of the lounge, hidden from Eloïse’s view once more.
A startled “oh” escaped my lips before I could stop it. Shouting would’ve been far worse, but I still cringed at the noise. The man reacted in an instant, his other hand shooting up to cover my mouth, silencing me with a firm press of his palm.
If I didn’t scream, it was because I recognized those arms.
Bastian whispered a “shhh” in my ear, a mischievous smile parting his face as he pressed his palm against my mouth.
Eloïse stopped mid-sentence.
“Chérie?” Larousse said on the other end of the line, raising his voice. “Is something wrong?”
The girl took a brief break before continuing.
“No, nothing,” she murmured. “As I was saying…”
Bastian’s hand eased away from my mouth, and I shot him a sharp, questioning glare. My eyes searched for his, demanding answers. Instead, he just shrugged. Satisfied that I wouldn’t blow our cover, he loosened his hold on me and backed off, making a subtle gesture for me to follow as he slipped further into the mansion.
Eloïse’s voice faded into the background as we crept through the concealed section of the lounge. The stairs creaked beneath our feet, and we stayed silent all the way to the top floor. Bastian pushed open the door to a room and ushered me inside. The door clicked shut behind us.
