Chapter 11 - MOTHER OF GHOSTSArabella had buried her mother twice.
Once at fifteen, standing beside her father under a black umbrella while adults told her Mara Vale had died peacefully after a long illness.
Again at nineteen, locked in a room while Malcolm told her nobody was coming because the only woman who would have fought for her was already gone.
Now she stood beneath Vale Manor, staring at her mother’s name scratched into a wall beside her daughter’s bed.
MARA VALE.
Her knees hit the floor.
Lila watched from the doorway, expression blank from a childhood built without comfort.
Arabella pressed her fingers against the scratches.
They were deep. Made with something sharp. Maybe a nail. Maybe a piece of metal. Maybe desperation.
Dante crouched beside her.
“Arabella.”
“She was alive.”
“We don’t know when.”
Arabella turned to him, eyes burning.
“She was alive here.”
Dante looked around the hidden chamber.
The room had a drain in the floor, an old cot, and a wall camera that had been ripped out years earlier. There were marks near the door where someone had tried to pry it open from the inside.
Evelyn stepped in, trembling.
“I treated Mara once,” she whispered.
Arabella looked up.
“You knew?”
“I knew she was sick. That was all. Sterling Vale kept her condition private.”
“She died.”
“That’s what we were told.”
Dante stood. “Malcolm faked one death. Why not two?”
Caleb leaned against the wall, face gray.
“Malcolm told me Mara’s medical trust transferred to him after she passed.”
Arabella looked at him with disgust.
“And you never questioned why everyone around me kept dying?”
“I was young.”
“You were greedy.”
The words landed.
Caleb did not deny them.
Lila stepped closer to Arabella and touched her sleeve.
“Are you mad?”
Arabella’s fury vanished.
She looked at the child.
“No, sweetheart. Not at you.”
Lila’s eyes moved to Dante.
“Is he bad?”
Arabella paused.
Dante waited for the answer with an expression he would never admit was uncertainty.
“He is dangerous,” Arabella said carefully. “But right now, he is helping us.”
Lila considered that.
Then she walked to Dante and handed him a small folded paper.
“The lady said give this to Bird’s wolf.”
Dante stared.
Arabella looked at him.
“Wolf?”
Dante unfolded the paper.
Inside was a shaky drawing of a crown, three thorns, and a wolf with a scar over one eye.
His father had carried a wolf tattoo on his shoulder.
Dante turned the page over.
There was writing.
ANTONIO KNEW. FIND THE CHAPEL FLOOR.
Arabella whispered, “Your father knew about my mother too.”
Dante’s world shifted.
Antonio Serrano had not died over a ledger.
He had died over the Vale women.
Above them, sirens wailed.
Nico’s voice came through Dante’s earpiece.
“Police at the gate. News vans behind them. Malcolm’s people called it in.”
Dante looked at Arabella.
“We need to move.”
“No.”
“Arabella—”
“No more running from this house.”
She stood, holding Lila’s hand.
For the first time, the child did not pull away.
“Malcolm wanted the world to see me as kidnapped, unstable, and helpless,” Arabella said. “Then let the world see me.”
Dante understood instantly.
“That’s dangerous.”
“So is disappearing again.”
Caleb looked between them. “What are you planning?”
Arabella lifted her chin.
“A press conference.”
“In front of the police?” Caleb asked.
“In front of everyone.”
Dante smiled slowly.
May you like
Malcolm had used cameras as weapons.
Arabella was about to take one from his hand and aim it back.
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