Chapter 4
The grandfather clock in the corner of the library ticked with a rhythmic finality, measuring out seconds that felt impossibly heavy. Julian stood frozen, the shock of Richard’s words paralyzing his limbs. The master of Blackwood Manor did not look angry; instead, he looked profoundly tired, as if the secret he had carried for five years had finally worn down his last defenses.
"You think I drove her to it, don't you?" Richard asked softly, walking around the desk to stand just a few feet away. Up close, Julian could see the fine network of lines around Richard's eyes—lines carved by grief and guilt, not malice.
"The police report said it was an accident," Julian replied, his voice guarded. "A tragic fall from the second-floor balcony during the storm. But my father always said the security cameras were disabled that night. He said only one person had the override code."
Richard nodded slowly, a bitter smile touching the corners of his mouth. "Marcus Vance. My brilliant, ambitious attorney. He told you that?"
"My father told me before he died," Julian corrected. "He was ruined to protect the estate’s reputation, wasn't he? You traded his livelihood to keep the scandal from touching your family name."
"I traded everything, Julian, and I have regretted every second of it," Richard admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. He turned back to the desk and picked up Eleanor's journal, holding it out like an offering. "Read it. Read what my wife wrote about the night she died. Then you will understand why I locked myself away from the world."
Julian hesitated before taking the worn leather book. His fingers brushed against Richard’s, and he was struck by how cold the older man's skin felt. He opened the journal to the last written page. The handwriting was hurried, erratic, penned with a trembling hand.
“Marcus knows about the offshore accounts. He says if I don’t sign the transfer papers, he will make sure Richard loses everything. I can’t let him destroy what we built. I’m going to confront him tonight on the terrace.”
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Julian looked up, his breath catching in his throat. "She didn't fall. She was pushed."
"No," Richard said, his voice cracking slightly. "She was cornered. And I was too blind, too arrogant to see what Marcus was doing right under my nose until it was far too late."
