The mansion was silent, the heavy velvet curtains swaying slightly as a cold breeze seeped through the cracks of the grand windows. Sophie paced back and forth in her room, her mind heavy with the weight of what she had learned about Lucien's past. She couldn't shake the visions she had seen, nor the growing suspicion that something darker connected her to this house.
Downstairs, Lucien sat in his study, staring at the glowing embers of the fireplace. His fingers drummed against the armrest of his leather chair as he replayed Sophie's words from earlier. Her description of Amélie's death, though vague, had been hauntingly accurate. He clenched his jaw and stood abruptly, his decision made. He couldn't ignore the signs any longer—Sophie was a key to unraveling the truth that had haunted him for years.
Meanwhile, Sophie, unable to sleep, decided to explore the mansion. She opened her door quietly and stepped into the dimly lit hallway. Shadows danced on the walls as the moonlight filtered through the ornate windows. Her footsteps were soft, but her heart pounded with the fear of being caught.
As she wandered, her hand brushed against the cold brass of a door handle. Something about this door felt different. It was slightly ajar, and curiosity got the better of her. Pushing it open, she stepped inside. The room was lined with old books, and at its center was a large mahogany desk cluttered with papers. On the wall behind the desk hung a portrait of a woman—a face that looked eerily similar to her own.
"Amélie," Sophie whispered, stepping closer to the painting. The woman's piercing eyes seemed to follow her, and Sophie felt a shiver run down her spine. She reached out to touch the edge of the frame when a voice startled her.
"You shouldn't be in here."
Sophie spun around to see Lucien standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable.
"I… I couldn't sleep," she stammered. "I didn't mean to intrude."
Lucien stepped into the room, his gaze fixed on the portrait. "This was Amélie's sanctuary," he said, his voice low. "It's the one place in this house that still feels like her."
Sophie hesitated, then asked, "Why do you keep me here, Lucien? Why me? I'm not her."
Lucien turned to her, his eyes shadowed with pain and something deeper—determination. "No, you're not her. But you're my chance at justice. My family thinks they've won, that they've erased the truth. But with you… they'll finally pay for what they've done."She was at least expecting something else related to his love for her but he was talking about Justice.
Sophie's breath caught. "What do you mean?"
Lucien stepped closer, his voice a cold whisper. "They murdered her. My mother and sister… they killed Amélie because she wasn't what they wanted for me. And now, they'll believe you've come back to haunt them."
Sophie stared at him, horrified. "You want to use me as some sort of revenge?"
Lucien's gaze softened slightly. "I want justice. And you're the only way to get it."
Before Sophie could respond, a loud crash echoed through the mansion, followed by hurried footsteps. Lucien's expression hardened, and he moved toward the door.
"Stay here," he commanded, glancing back at her. "Don't move."
As he disappeared down the hallway, Sophie sank into the nearest chair, her heart racing. She had walked into a storm far darker than she could have imagined, and there was no escape in sight.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of something rustling in the desk drawer. She leaned forward and pulled it open, revealing a stack of letters. The handwriting was delicate, and the words spoke of love, betrayal, and fear.
Sophie's hands trembled as she read the final line of one letter: "If anything happens to me, Lucien, it wasn't an accident. It was your mother."
Tears welled in her eyes as the weight of the situation became clear. She had to find a way out of this, but more than that, she needed to uncover the full truth before it was too late.
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