Chapter Five

I slid down the wall to the ground.

I had thought I had no more tears left to shed, but how wrong I was.

She had promised me. She told me she would stay with me this time. That she wouldn't leave when things got tough.

Foolish Tessa. Of course, I let her in again, even though I knew she never kept her promises. Still, I was naive enough to believe her—just as I had blindly trusted Kelvin.

Maybe I was the problem.

She was my mother, my only family. She was all I had. I couldn’t give up on her, but then… What kind of mother does this to her own child?

I had been ready to go the extra mile to put food on both our tables, even if most children have their parents working to feed them. It had always been the other way around for me, but I never complained. I rose to the task, and yet… it still wasn’t enough. Nothing would ever be enough—not when it came to her.

.

Seven text messages from Bree.

Two from Madame Victoria, my employer—probably to fire me, as if I didn’t have enough on my plate.

I ignored both messages.

I just wanted to be alone right now, but of course, that too was too much to ask.

My screen lit up with a call. The phone kept ringing, over and over again.

With a sigh of frustration, I picked up the call without checking the caller ID.

“Bree, this is the wrong time…”

It wasn’t Bree calling.

“Am I speaking to Tessa Valemont?” a male voice, unfamiliar and formal, questioned.

I stared at the caller ID; it was an unsaved number.

“Yes, you are,” I answered after a moment of hesitation.

“My name is Charles Green. I’m a lawyer with Callister & Wells Law Firm. I’m calling to inform you that your name has been listed in the late Mr. Falcone Callister’s will. According to its terms, you’ve inherited three-quarters of his estate.”

I stared at my phone, dumbfounded.

“Sorry, who is Mr. Falcone?” I asked, there was silence on the other end. “Hello?”

“You don't know who he is?” the caller, Charles, questioned, and I could sense the surprise in his voice.

“No. I don’t.”

“That’s strange. But your name was mentioned in his will, and we would need to meet to settle the matter as soon as possible. I’ll send you an address…”

“There must be some mix-up. I don’t think you have the right person. I’m sorry to hear about Mr. Callister’s death, but I don’t know him.”

There was another pause.

“Can you confirm your details for me? Your mother’s name is Rachel Valemont. You currently live in apartment 14A of the Old Holt, Seattle. You’re five foot six, with curly blonde hair and brown eyes. Age: 22.

Do I have the right person?”

The mention of my mother’s name sent a sharp throb through my chest. I didn’t think she deserved to be called my mother. No—she didn’t deserve anything.

“What did you say your name was again?”

“Charles. Charles Green.”

The name didn’t ring any bells, nor did the name Callister.

Mom never spoke of any relatives, and I often wondered if we had any. My father had died right before I was born—that’s what Mom had always told me. So, who the hell was this man, Callister, and why was I part of his will?

…

Charles kept his word and sent the address where we were to meet.

I knew I should have told someone about this, maybe Bree, but I didn’t want her worrying about me any more than she already was. I also knew better than to wander off to strange locations alone, yet that was exactly what I was doing.

Call it curiosity, or maybe the fact that I had nothing left to lose.

I parked across the street from the mansion-like building. My rusty car stood out like a sore thumb. I double-checked the address to be sure I was in the right place. This was definitely it.

Now I regretted my choice of clothing. I wore a simple light blue gown that clung to my frame, and my hair was hastily thrown into a bun.

I was sure that once I got there, they'd realize there’d been a mix-up and I wasn’t the right person.

I was just about to cross the street when a sleek black car came to an abrupt stop in front of me. The back door flew open.

“Get in,” said a voice that sent chills down my spine.

Every instinct in me screamed to run—and I did.

I turned on my heel and sprinted back toward my car, heart pounding in my chest. But I didn’t make it far.

The man was out of his car in an instant. Before I could even scream, his hand clamped over my mouth.

I kicked and thrashed, trying to break free, but it was useless. He was strong. Very strong.

In one swift motion, he dragged me backward and shoved me into the back seat of his car.

I shouldn’t have come here alone. I should have told Bree.

But of course, I had to make another stupid mistake, and this time, it might cost me my life.

Then I saw his face in the rearview mirror.

Stormy grey eyes.

The same grey eyes I’d seen in my dreams ever since that day at the restaurant.

It was him.

Wraith.