The Crescent Meeting
Starling's POV
Rain poured that night — slow, deliberate drops tracing the glass walls of Hotel Crescent, where secrets liked to dress as elegance.
The city outside blurred into streaks of gold and red, reflected against her pale face as she stood before Room 309.
For a moment, she simply breathed — steady, deliberate, the kind of breath taken before stepping into danger. Then she knocked.
The door opened almost instantly.
Her mother stood there — calm, collected, and unnervingly gentle, her shadow framed by the soft lamplight. Yet behind that calm was something harder — a power that Starling could now feel instead of merely sense.
"You came," the woman said quietly.
"I said I would," Starling replied, her voice careful but firm.
Inside, the room smelled of rain and red wine. Documents were spread across the table — photographs, newspaper clippings, and printed reports. At the center was a picture of Richard Ashford, shaking hands with an unknown man.
Starling's eyes narrowed.
"What is all this?"
"Your father's truth," her mother answered. "Everything they took from him. Everything they buried."
Starling stiffened. "He's not dead."
Her mother's eyes softened — guilt or pity, she couldn't tell.
"Starling… there are things you were never meant to see."
"Don't," Starling said sharply, her throat tight. "Don't you dare talk about him like he's gone."
Her mother exhaled. "If he were alive, he would've found you. He tried. But Richard had him transferred — off the books, under a new identity. The same week you disappeared. The same week Elijah—"
"Stop!"
Starling's voice cracked, the word heavy with fury.
"You don't get to say his name."
Her mother's gaze didn't flinch. "You still love him."
Starling laughed bitterly. "Love? That's not love. That was survival… until it wasn't."
Silence. Only the soft patter of rain filled the room.
Then her mother slid a single photograph across the table. "Then you should see what his love cost you."
Starling hesitated — then looked.
It was Elijah — younger, standing beside his father and a group of men, a pen poised over a document. The headline below read:
"Ashford Corporation Acquires SolenArt Gallery After Fraud Case."
SolenArt.
Her father's gallery.
Starling's breath caught. Her voice came out in fragments. "He—he signed it?"
Her mother nodded once. "He was Richard's weapon. Through you, they gained access to your father's legal archives. That's how the fraud was built."
"No…" Starling whispered. Her knees weakened, her fingers trembling as she clutched the photo. "He didn't know. He couldn't have—"
"He knew enough," her mother said, tone quiet but merciless. "And when the truth came for him, he did what Ashfords always do — he hid behind loyalty."
Starling's eyes glistened, pain twisting into something darker.
"I'll destroy them all," she said quietly.
Her mother stepped closer, her voice calm but heavy. "Then you'll need help. Real help."
Starling lifted her gaze, cold and steady.
"I don't trust you."
Her mother smiled faintly. "Good. Then maybe you're ready."
She turned toward the window, watching lightning split the skyline in silver.
"I'll make the arrangements," she murmured. "Once you're ready, we'll start with Clara."
Starling's head snapped up. "Clara?"
Her mother nodded. "She's already back from Country X. And she's been asking about you."
For a moment, Starling said nothing — only stared out the rain-smeared glass, her reflection fractured and fierce.
"Then she's about to find me," she whispered, lips curving into a dangerous smile.
---
Ashford House
Matthew's POV
The storm reached the mansion hours later.
Thunder rolled across the glass roof of the solarium as Matthew sat in the study, the dim light from the fireplace throwing long shadows over the walls.
Liam and Ray stood near the window, whispering — too quietly for comfort.
They'd been like this for days. Restless. Avoiding questions. Avoiding him.
"Spit it out," Matthew said finally, looking up from his desk. "What's wrong?"
Ray exchanged a glance with Liam. Neither spoke.
Matthew sighed. "You've been walking on eggshells since Clara returned. If there's something I should know, tell me now."
Liam's jaw tightened. "It's not safe to talk here."
Matthew frowned. "Safe? You're in your own house."
"Exactly," Liam said.
The words chilled him.
For a second, the only sound was the rain pounding harder against the windows.
"What did she do?" Matthew asked, lowering his voice.
Ray looked toward the hallway — as if expecting someone to be listening. "She's changed," he whispered. "She talks differently. She hides things. And that night in the kitchen — she was on the phone, talking about Starling."
Matthew's pulse quickened. "You're sure?"
Liam nodded. "Every word."
Matthew rose from his chair, the gravity settling in. "Then we don't confront her yet. Not until we know how deep it goes."
Ray swallowed. "And if she's not working alone?"
Matthew looked out the window — past the trees, where lightning illuminated the garden paths. "Then someone's already inside this house," he said quietly. "And they've been here longer than we think."
The fire crackled softly.
In the next room, footsteps echoed — slow, deliberate. Clara's voice drifted faintly down the corridor, humming something soft and familiar.
Liam and Ray froze.
Matthew's hand tightened around the glass of whiskey on his desk.
He didn't turn — just listened, every nerve on alert.
The storm outside roared louder, swallowing the sound of her song.
But even through the thunder, he could still hear the quiet echo of her words — calm, rhythmic, chilling.
"Every secret finds its way home."
The Shadows Inside Ashford House
Elijah's POV
The mansion felt heavier since Clara's return.
Even the air carried something strange — a silence that clung to the walls like dust no one dared to sweep away.
Elijah sat in the study, the faint hum of the rain against the glass seeping into his thoughts. The fire was lit, but its warmth did little to reach him. His mind was elsewhere — on Starling. On the way she'd left without looking back. On how every attempt to forget her only carved her name deeper.
But tonight, there was another weight pressing down on him. Clara.
She'd come back from Country X claiming it was just a "vacation with friends," but her eyes told a different story. There was calculation behind her smiles now. Something sharpened. Something secret.
"Brother?"
The voice came from the doorway — Matthew, leaning in, his expression careful.
Elijah looked up. "What is it?"
"She's acting weird again," Matthew said quietly. "Clara."
Elijah sighed. "She's been through a lot—"
"Don't give me that," Matthew cut in. "You've seen it too. The way she stares at Dad's office whenever she walks past. Like she's remembering something she shouldn't."
Elijah's brow furrowed. He had noticed — the lingering glances, the whispered phone calls she always took near the garden, the sudden changes in her mood.
Before he could answer, Liam and Ray entered the study. They were quiet, but tension radiated off them like static.
"She told the maids to stay out of the east wing tonight," Ray said, crossing his arms. "When I asked why, she just smiled."
"She's up to something," Liam added. "And I think it has to do with Starling."
The name hit Elijah like a blow. He froze, eyes snapping to his younger brother. "What did you just say?"
Liam exchanged a glance with Ray. "We heard her talking on the phone. She said, 'If she shows up, I'll handle it myself.'"
Elijah's heartbeat quickened.
He stood, his jaw tightening. "When was this?"
"Two nights ago," Ray said. "Late."
The fire crackled louder, as if echoing the tension in the room.
Matthew exhaled. "Elijah, something's not right with her. She's hiding something, and we need to know what."
Elijah rubbed a hand over his face, his thoughts spiraling. If Clara truly had some connection to Starling, then everything — the lies, the silence, even her sudden return — wasn't coincidence.
He looked at his brothers, the seriousness in their eyes mirroring his own. "No one says a word about this to Father," Elijah said finally. "Not yet."
Liam frowned. "Why?"
"Because I need proof," Elijah said. "And because if Starling is somehow involved…"
He hesitated. "I need to see her myself."
The room fell quiet.
Matthew's gaze softened. "You still love her."
Elijah didn't answer. He didn't have to.
Somewhere outside, thunder rolled, long and low.
And inside the Ashford mansion, the brothers shared a look — one that said everything their words couldn't:
Something dark was moving again.
And none of them were ready for what was coming.