The Truth She Shouldn't Have Known
The night hung low over the mansion, heavy and cold. Rain had started to fall — not a storm, but a steady, whispering drizzle that made the house seem even larger and lonelier.
Eleanor sat alone in her study, a single lamp glowing beside her. The faint hum of the rain filled the silence as she stared at the documents spread across her desk — bank transfers, property lists, and a set of coded emails that she'd recovered from the company's internal network.
Her hands trembled slightly as she read the last one again, her breath catching. This couldn't be right.
The emails linked to Isabella.
Eleanor pushed back her chair, heart pounding. She had suspected something ever since Isabella's sudden reappearance in their lives — the way she always managed to be near when conflict arose, the sly words that sowed doubt between Ethan and Clara, and her unexplained access to company details no outsider should have.
But this… this was worse than she imagined.
She rose from her seat, gripping the papers tightly. "Oh, Isabella… what have you done?" she whispered.
A knock on the door startled her. She quickly gathered the documents, slipping them into a brown envelope. "Come in," she said, steadying her voice.
The door opened just a little, revealing Victoria. Her expression was anxious. "Aunt Eleanor, you've been in here all evening. Are you all right?"
Eleanor forced a small smile. "Just going through old records, dear."
Victoria hesitated. "You're lying," she said softly, stepping closer. "You look pale."
Eleanor sighed and took her hand gently. "Victoria, if anything happens — if you can't find me tomorrow — promise me you'll tell Ethan to look into Isabella."
Victoria frowned, confused. "What do you mean? What's going on?"
But before Eleanor could explain, she heard footsteps approaching down the hall. Familiar, calm, deliberate.
Eleanor stiffened.
The door creaked wider. Isabella stood there — poised as always, her expression unreadable, her crimson lips curved into a polite smile. "Oh, I didn't mean to interrupt."
Victoria turned. "We were just talking—"
"I can see that," Isabella said smoothly, her gaze lingering on the brown envelope in Eleanor's hands. "Working late again, Aunt Eleanor?"
The title made Eleanor's stomach twist. There was something venomous beneath Isabella's pleasant tone.
"Yes," Eleanor replied evenly. "Some things can't wait."
Isabella took a few steps inside, her heels clicking softly on the marble floor. "You know, it's strange," she said conversationally. "For someone who claims to hate paperwork, you've been spending quite a lot of time reading old files lately."
Victoria's brows knit. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Oh, nothing." Isabella's eyes flicked toward Eleanor again. "I just think it's dangerous for someone to dig into matters they don't understand."
Eleanor met her gaze without flinching. "And I think it's more dangerous to pretend ignorance when lives are at stake."
Something flickered in Isabella's expression — for just a second, the mask slipped. Cold calculation gleamed beneath her beauty.
"Victoria," Eleanor said quietly, never looking away from Isabella, "go to your room, dear."
Victoria hesitated. "But—"
"Now."
Victoria bit her lip but obeyed, throwing one last worried glance over her shoulder before she left.
Once the door shut, silence filled the room again.
Eleanor placed the envelope on her desk. "You can stop pretending, Isabella. I know about the money transfers. About the fake accounts Marcus used — and who signed off on them."
Isabella's lips parted slightly, then curved into a soft, amused smile. "You're cleverer than I gave you credit for."
Eleanor's voice hardened. "You planned to hurt Clara. You wanted her gone — maybe even dead."
Isabella's smile faded. "You should've stayed out of it, Eleanor. I almost respected you."
"I'll tell Ethan everything," Eleanor said, standing tall despite the tremor in her hands. "He'll believe me before he ever believes you."
"Oh, I know he will," Isabella murmured. "That's why you can't leave this room."
Before Eleanor could react, a faint sound — a sharp hiss — filled the air. She felt a sting on her neck, sudden and burning. Her eyes widened as dizziness took over.
"Wha—what did you—"
Isabella caught her as she stumbled. "Just a little something to help you rest," she whispered near her ear. "Don't worry. You won't die. Not yet."
The world blurred. The last thing Eleanor saw before darkness claimed her was Isabella's calm, smiling face as she whispered —
"You should have stayed loyal."
---
At the same time, in another part of the mansion, Clara stirred from her sleep, uneasy for reasons she couldn't name.
Somewhere far away, a car engine started in the rain. And just like that — Eleanor was gone.