The night was supposed to be peaceful. For the first time in weeks, Eleanor had let herself believe that she and Alexander could find a way through this storm. But peace was always fleeting in the Blackthorne estate.
A soft creak at the door pulled her from her light sleep. Her instincts flared. She wasn't alone.
Slowly, she reached for the dagger hidden under her pillow, her fingers tightening around the cold metal.
"Awake already?"
The sultry voice sent a wave of irritation through her. Eleanor sat up, her eyes narrowing at the figure standing in the dim glow of the moonlight. Isla.
"What the hell are you doing in my room?" Eleanor snapped, her voice low but sharp.
Isla leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, a smirk playing on her lips. "Relax, sister. I just came to talk."
Eleanor's grip on the dagger tightened. "We are not sisters."
Isla chuckled. "No, but we might as well be. We share the same face… and the same man."
Eleanor felt her blood turn ice cold.
"Say what you came to say and get out," she said, forcing her voice to stay even.
Isla sighed dramatically, stepping closer. "You think Alexander is different, don't you? That you mean something to him?" She tilted her head. "How sweet. And how very, very naive."
Eleanor didn't flinch. "You're wasting your time, Isla. I don't believe a word you say."
Isla's smirk widened as she pulled something from the folds of her robe and tossed it onto the bed. A small envelope.
"Then maybe you'll believe this."
Eleanor hesitated for a fraction of a second before picking it up. Inside was a photograph—grainy, but clear enough. Her fingers clenched as she recognized the two figures.
Alexander. And Isla.
Standing too close. Isla's lips barely inches from his ear, her hand on his chest. And his expression… unreadable.
Eleanor forced herself to stay calm. "This means nothing."
Isla tsked, shaking her head. "Oh, Eleanor. You're so smart about everything else, but when it comes to him… blind." She leaned in slightly, her voice a whisper. "Tell me, did he ever mention how we met before the auction?"
Eleanor's heart skipped a beat.
No. He hadn't.
She didn't let her shock show, but Isla saw it anyway. She grinned, leaning closer. "He knew me long before that night. Long before you."
Lies. They had to be lies.
But Eleanor couldn't shake the nagging voice in her head.
What if it wasn't?
"I can see the doubt creeping in," Isla mused. "That's good. You should doubt him. Because the truth is, Eleanor… you're not his first choice."
Eleanor's nails dug into her palm. "Get out."
Isla smiled as if she had already won. "You can hate me all you want. But sooner or later, you'll realize the truth." She turned to leave but paused at the doorway. "And when you do… I'll be waiting."
The door clicked shut, leaving Eleanor alone with her thoughts.
Alone with the photograph.
Alone with the first betrayal.
Next Chapter: Broken Vows
Eleanor confronts Alexander, demanding the truth about Isla. But the answers she receives might not be what she expected. As trust wavers and emotions spiral, a dangerous choice is made—one that will change everything.
Will Eleanor stand by Alexander, or will this betrayal push her away for good?