The ride back to Thorne Manor was a funeral procession of one.
Julian didn't look at me. He didn't speak. He typed furiously on his phone, the blue light illuminating the hard lines of his face. He looked like a general coordinating a war, which, in a way, he was.
When the car stopped on the crushed white gravel, he was out the door before the driver could even put it in park.
"Mrs. Graves," Julian barked as we entered the foyer. The housekeeper appeared from the shadows like a wraith. "My wife is not to be disturbed. She has a headache. Bring dinner to her room."
"And you, sir?" Mrs. Graves asked, her eyes darting to me with that familiar mix of suspicion and disdain.
"I'll be in the study," Julian said. "If anyone calls, tell them I'm dead."
He stormed off toward the West Wing, the heavy oak doors slamming shut behind him with a sound that echoed through the empty house.
I was left standing on the checkered marble, shivering. The house felt colder than usual. It felt like a tomb.
"Shall I prepare a tray, Madam?" Mrs. Graves asked.
"No," I said, clutching my purse to my chest. "I'm not hungry."
I ran up the stairs, my heels clicking frantically on the stone. I didn't stop until I was inside Elena's room with the door locked and the deadbolt slid home.
I threw my purse on the bed and paced the room. My hands were shaking so bad I had to clasp them together to stop the tremors.
A killer.
I was impersonating a killer.
I grabbed the burner phone from my purse. I dialed Silas.
He answered on the first ring. "You froze, Maya. We talked about freezing."
"You didn't tell me!" I screamed into the phone, then clamped a hand over my mouth, glancing at the door. I lowered my voice to a harsh whisper. "You didn't tell me she killed someone, Silas. You told me she was a bored housewife who ran away. You didn't tell me she committed manslaughter!"
There was a pause on the other end. A long, heavy silence that made my stomach turn.
"So," Silas said, his voice calm and unbothered. "He told you."
"You knew?" I gasped. "You knew and you sent me in there blind?"
"I knew Elena was in trouble," Silas said. "I knew there was an accident. The details were... fuzzy. Julian buried the police report very deep. It cost him five million dollars, from what I hear."
"It was a Senator's son, Silas!" I hissed. "She killed a Senator's son while driving drunk. If anyone finds out I'm not her, they won't just sue me for fraud. They'll pin a murder on me!"
"They won't," Silas said. "Because Julian can't let that happen. That is your insurance policy, Maya. Julian hates you, yes. But he is terrified of the truth coming out. He will protect you because protecting you means protecting himself. You are safe."
"Safe?" I laughed, a hysterical sound that bubbled up in my throat. "I am trapped in a house with a man who looks at me like he wants to strangle me, playing a woman who deserves to be in prison. I want out, Silas. The debt isn't worth this."
"The debt is exactly worth this," Silas's voice turned ice cold. "You are in too deep, Maya. You walk away now, and the loan sharks get your address. You stay, and you live like a queen for a few weeks until the merger signs. Then you can disappear again."
"I can't do it," I whispered.
"You can," Silas said. "You're an actress, remember? This is just the role of a lifetime. Now, go to sleep. You have an exttremely busy few weeks ahead. And Maya?"
"What?"
"Don't ask Julian about the boy," Silas warned. "Lucas Sterling. That was his name. He was Julian's best friend before he started sleeping with Elena. It's a sore subject."
The line went dead.
I stared at the phone.
Lucas Sterling. Julian's best friend.
Elena hadn't just cheated on her husband. She had cheated on him with his best friend, and then she had killed him.
I sank onto the floor, pulling my knees to my chest.
I looked at the mirror where the lipstick message had been. It was clean now, but the words still echoed in my mind.
HE KNOWS.
Did the person who wrote that know about Lucas? Or did they know about me?
I realized then that I wasn't just fighting for my life. I was walking through a minefield that Elena had laid out months ago, and I didn't have a map.
I sat on the floor for what felt like hours, the silence of the house pressing against my eardrums.
Finally, the cold seeped through the silk of my dress, forcing me to move. I crawled onto the massive bed and pulled the white fur throw around my shoulders. I felt like an intruder in a snow cave.
I picked up the smartphone Silas had given me. My thumbs hovered over the screen. I needed to know who I had killed.
I typed the name into the search bar. Lucas Sterling.
The results flooded the screen instantly.
Lucas Sterling, 32, Scion of Sterling Media Group, Dead from a Heart Attack.
Sterling Heir died in his sleep.
Julian Thorne Devastated by Loss of Childhood Friend.
I tapped on the first article. The date was exactly three months ago. The same week Elena disappeared.
According to the article, Lucas Sterling hadbeen sick for quite a while and finally gave him to thr sickness.
I lowered the phone, my breath hitching in my chest.
Julian hadn't just buried a police report. He had staged an entire scene. He had moved a body. He had fabricated the whole thing. The level of power required to pull that off was staggering. I wasn't dealing with a businessman, I was dealing with a king who could command the tides of truth.
I scrolled down to the photos.
There was a picture of Lucas. He was golden-haired and blue-eyed, with a smile that looked easy and charming. The opposite of Julian's dark, brooding intensity.
Then I saw a photo of the two of them together at a charity polo match. They were laughing, their arms around each other's shoulders. They looked like brothers.
I felt a wave of nausea. Julian had covered up the death of his best friend, knowing that his own wife was the one behind the wheel. The hatred he felt for Elena... it wasn't just because of a bad marriage. It was because she had taken the only person he actually cared about.
And now I understood why he looked at me with such conflicting emotions. When he looked at me, he saw his wife, but he also saw the woman who killed his brother.
I turned off the phone, tossing it onto the duvet.
I couldn't just sit here. Why was she in the car with him? If Elena was planning to run away with Lucas, she wouldn't have left empty-handed. Silas said she took three million dollars, but where was it? There was a car crashed, but did she have bags packed?
I stood up and walked into the closet.
It was a cavern of luxury. I ran my hands over the clothes again, checking pockets, checking linings. Nothing.
I got down on my hands and knees, checking the floorboards. In the movies, there was always a loose floorboard. But this was a modern mansion, the floors were solid marble and hardwood.
I moved to the back of the closet, where the shoe racks were. Rows of red-soled heels stared back at me. I started pulling boxes down, opening them one by one.
Jimmy Choo. Manolo Blahnik. Christian Louboutin.
Nothing but shoes and tissue paper.
I sat back on my heels, frustrated. Where would a woman hide her secrets?
Then I saw it.