The House of Secrets
(Ophelia's POV)
The drive to the Ashford Estate was quieter than Ethan expected.
Soft classical music played through the speakers as the city lights slipped past the windows.
Every few minutes, Ethan glanced at Ophelia.
She looked calm.
Composed.
Elegant.
But he didn't notice the way her fingers tightened around her clutch every time they drove closer to the estate.
For him, tonight was simple.
He was introducing a woman he admired to his family.
For her...
Tonight was the closest she had ever come to the truth.
The wrought-iron gates slowly opened.
Beyond them stood the Ashford Estate.
It was breathtaking.
A long driveway lined with ancient oak trees led to a magnificent mansion illuminated by warm golden lights.
A marble fountain stood proudly in the center of the circular driveway, its water dancing beneath carefully placed lights.
To anyone else, it looked like a dream.
To Ophelia...
It looked like a fortress.
As Ethan parked the car, he noticed she hadn't moved.
"Nervous?"
She smiled politely.
"A little."
He reached over and gently squeezed her hand.
"My father is going to love you."
She hoped he was right.
Because she wasn't worried about Richard Ashford.
She was worried about everyone else.
The grand entrance doors opened before they reached them.
Richard Ashford descended the steps with a broad smile.
"Ethan!"
He embraced his son warmly before turning to Ophelia.
"So this is the young woman I've heard so much about."
Ophelia smiled politely.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Ashford."
"Oh, none of that."
He laughed warmly.
"If Ethan brought you here, you're already family."
The words caught her off guard.
Family.
If only he knew why she had really come.
Inside, the mansion was even more magnificent.
Crystal chandeliers hung from impossibly high ceilings.
Portraits of generations of Ashfords lined the walls.
The scent of polished wood and fresh lilies filled the air.
Her eyes quietly wandered over every detail.
Every hallway.
Every staircase.
Every security camera.
Every painting.
She wasn't admiring the house.
She was memorizing it.
A graceful woman descended the staircase.
She wore a burgundy silk dress and a smile so perfect it seemed rehearsed.
"Welcome."
Her voice was warm.
Almost too warm.
"You must be Ophelia."
"Yes."
"I'm Celeste."
"It's lovely to finally meet you."
The two women shook hands.
For the briefest moment...
Celeste studied Ophelia's face.
Not rudely.
Carefully.
As though searching for something.
Then she smiled again.
"We've heard wonderful things about you."
Ophelia returned the smile.
"I hope only the good ones."
Celeste laughed softly.
"Oh...
That depends on who was telling the story."
Everyone laughed.
Even Ophelia.
But neither woman trusted the other.
"Ah!"
A masculine voice echoed from the hallway.
"You finally made it."
Ophelia turned.
A tall man in his early thirties approached with an easy smile.
He extended his hand.
"I'm Nathan."
Ethan's stepbrother.
The name she'd read countless times in Anonymous's files.
The man she'd imagined a hundred different ways.
She expected someone cold.
Cruel.
Arrogant.
Instead...
He looked... ordinary.
Friendly, even.
"It's nice to meet you," Nathan said.
"You too."
His handshake was firm.
Confident.
His smile reached his eyes.
Nothing about him matched the monster she had built in her imagination.
For one terrifying second...
She wondered.
What if Anonymous was wrong?
Dinner was announced shortly afterward.
The dining table could seat twenty people.
Tonight, only four places were occupied.
Richard sat at the head.
Celeste opposite him.
Nathan beside Ethan.
Ophelia beside Ethan.
Conversation flowed easily.
Richard asked about her work.
"What exactly does an art consultant do?"
She smiled.
"I help museums, collectors, and charities identify valuable works, preserve them, and sometimes build collections."
Richard looked impressed.
"That's fascinating."
Nathan nodded.
"So you're the person who can tell whether a painting is priceless or fake."
She laughed.
"Sometimes."
Ethan smiled proudly.
"I told you she was brilliant."
She glanced at him, embarrassed.
Richard noticed.
A smile quietly spread across his face.
Halfway through dinner, a maid accidentally dropped a serving spoon.
The sharp clang echoed through the dining room.
For a split second...
Nathan flinched.
Not dramatically.
Just enough for Ophelia to notice.
His eyes darted toward the window.
Then back to his plate.
It lasted less than a second.