Chapter 5: The Blood Message

The Return to the Mansion

The Harrington mansion loomed over the moonlit grounds like a ghost, its elegance now tainted by the events of the past few days. Olivia stood at the edge of the property, her breath condensing in the cold night air. The police tape fluttered in the wind, a dissonant reminder of the crime scene within.

She glanced behind her, her heart pounding. The streets were empty, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being observed. The parcel with the photograph of Damien Cross had unsettled her, and the shadowy figure standing outside her flat had only added to her paranoia.

Olivia put her coat around her and moved towards the mansion, her shoes making no sound on the gravel driveway. The security system had been deactivated after Victor's death, and the staff had all been sent home, so the house was unnervingly silent.

She slipped in the side door, the door creaking softly as she pushed it open. The foyer was dark, the only light coming from the moon streaming in through the windows. The air was sweetly perfumed with blood and cleaning supplies, a nauseating combination that made her stomach churn.

Olivia moved stealthily, her eyes scanning the shadows. The study was her destination, but every step was a gamble. She couldn't rid herself of the feeling that someone—or something—was waiting for her.

 The Study

The study was exactly as she had left it, police tape still stretched across the door. Olivia slipped under it, her heart racing as she stepped inside the room. It was in chaos—papers scattered across the floor, furniture overturned, and the faint outline of Victor's body still visible on the carpet.

She walked over to the desk, her fingers brushing against the hidden compartment she'd discovered the previous day. It was still empty, the flash drive nowhere to be seen.

"Where are you?" she murmured, barely audible.

Her eyes fell to the floor, where the message in blood had been written: He found out. The words sent shivers down her spine. Found out what? And who had left the message?

Olivia knelt beside the desk, her fingers tracing the edge of the bloodstain. As she did, her hand brushed against something cold and metallic. She froze, her breath catching in her throat.

It was a key.

She picked it up, holding the key in the light. It was small and unremarkable, but there were some initials V.H. marked on the side.

"What are you hiding, Victor?" she murmured, letting the key fall into her pocket.

The Basement

The basement was a labyrinth of storage boxes, outdated furniture, and overlooked keepsakes of the Harrington family's past. Olivia descended the stairs, the beam of her flashlight cutting through the darkness. The air was cold and damp, the silence suffocating.

She moved cautiously, her eyes scanning the room. The key had to unlock something, but what?

Her flashlight fell on an old file cabinet hugged into the corner. The cabinet itself was covered in dust, but the lock on the top drawer reflected a glint in her light.

Olivia's heart raced with excitement as she fitted the key. It turned in the lock with a low click, and the drawer slid open.

Inside was a stack of documents, each one marked in red ink: CONFIDENTIAL. She pulled them out, her hands trembling as she flipped through the pages.

They were financial records—transactions, offshore accounts, and names she didn't recognize. But one name stood out: Damien Cross.

Olivia's breath hitched. Victor had known about Damien. He had known about her past.

Before she could take in the ramifications, a noise on the stairs immobilized her.

Footsteps.

She switched off her flashlight, and the room was plunged into darkness. Her heart pounding, she crouched behind the filing cabinet, her breath bated.

The footsteps echoed louder, accompanied by the faint creak of the stairs. Someone was coming.

The Confrontation

The beam of a flashlight cut through the darkness, sweeping across the room. Olivia held her breath, her body pressed against the cold metal of the filing cabinet.

"I know you're down here," a voice called, low and menacing.

Olivia's blood ran cold. It was Nicholas, Victor's son.

She peered around the edge of the cabinet, her eyes narrowing. Nicholas stood at the bottom of the stairs, a gun in one hand and a flashlight in the other.

"Come out, Olivia," he shouted, his voice disdainful. "You can't stay hidden forever."

Olivia's thoughts were spinning. She had to think fast.

She grabbed a nearby box and flung it across the room, the smash echoing through the basement. Nicholas spun around toward the noise, his flashlight beam following the movement.

Olivia used the distraction to dart out from behind the cabinet and make a dash for the stairs.

"Stop!" Nicholas shouted, his footsteps pounding behind her.

She reached the stairs and was descending them two at a time, her heart pounding in her chest. But Nicholas was faster. He grabbed her arm, yanking her back with a tug strong enough to make her stumble.

"Let me go!" Olivia screamed, attempting to struggle out of his grip.

Nicholas's face was twisted in rage. "You think you can waltz in here and take what's ours? You're nothing but a gold-digging whore!"

Olivia's fear turned to anger. She kicked out, her heel connecting with his shin. Nicholas cursed, his hold loosening just enough for her to tear herself away.

She fled up the stairs, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Nicholas was hard on her heels, his footsteps echoing in the narrow stairway.

The Escape

Olivia burst into the foyer, her eyes darting toward the front door. But before she could reach it, Nicholas tackled her from behind, sending them both crashing to the floor.

"You're not going anywhere," he snarled, pinning her down.

Olivia struggled, her nails clawing at his arms. "Get off me!"

Nicholas raised his hand, his fist clenched. But before he could strike, a voice cut through the chaos.

"That's enough."

Olivia and Nicholas both froze, their heads snapping toward the source of the voice.

Helena stood in the doorway, her arms crossed and her expression cold. "Let her go, Nicholas."

"She was snooping around!" Nicholas protested, his grip on Olivia tightening.

"I said let her go," Helena repeated, her voice sharp.

Reluctantly, Nicholas released Olivia, shoving her away as he stood. Olivia scrambled to her feet, her chest heaving.

Helena stepped closer, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinized Olivia. "You're in over your head," she sneered, her voice icy. "Walk away now, and maybe you'll survive till tomorrow."

Olivia's jaw tightened. "What are you hiding, Helena?"

Helena's lips curled into a sneer. "More than you can handle."

Olivia's gaze darted from Helena to Nicholas, her mind racing. She knew she was outnumbered, but she couldn't back down. Not now.

"This isn't over," she said to herself, her voice steady even as fear coursed through her veins.

Helena's smile increased. "Oh, it's just beginning."

The Aftermath

Olivia sat on the bed, her hands trembling as she clutched the papers she had taken from the basement. Her encounter with Nicholas and Helena had shaken her, but it had also made one thing clear: they were hiding something.

She spread the papers on the bed, reading the pages quickly. The accounts were complex, but one thing was for sure—Victor had been in much deeper than she had realized.

And Damien Cross was right in the center of it.

Olivia's phone buzzed in her hand, and she startled. She read the message:

"You're playing a dangerous game. Stop now, or you'll regret it."

The sender was unknown, but the threat was clear.

Olivia set the phone down, her mind racing. She was in over her head, but there was no turning back now.

She had to find out the truth—no matter the cost.