Elena's POV
Isabella's cold blue eyes cut through me like ice.
"Oh, the cousin," she says with fake sweetness. "How interesting that you decided to return after all these years."
I stand in my guest room doorway, frozen. Adrian shifts uncomfortably beside his fiancée. He won't meet my eyes anymore.
"I'm here for my grandmother's will reading," I manage to say.
"Of course you are." Isabella's smile is sharp. "Inheritances always bring family crawling back, don't they?"
The words sting. She's calling me a gold digger.
"That's not fair—" Adrian starts.
"Darling, I'm sure Elena knows I'm teasing." Isabella squeezes his arm tighter. "We're all family here. Though some of us are more committed than others."
She's marking her territory. Claiming Adrian as hers.
"The will reading starts in fifteen minutes," Isabella continues. "Adrian and I should get ready. His mother wants us sitting together." She pulls Adrian toward the door.
He glances back at me. His eyes are full of apology.
Then they're gone.
I sink onto my bed. What just happened? Adrian was kind before. Now Isabella drags him around like he's her property.
My phone buzzes.
Don't let her intimidate you. Isabella is afraid of you. At the will reading, watch everyone's reactions. Sit next to Uncle Philip. He'll protect you.
How does this person know everything?
A soft knock. "Elena? It's time." Martha stands in the doorway.
"I'm not ready for this family."
Martha sits beside me. "Your grandmother knew this would be hard. That's why she left you the journals. She wanted you to understand before you faced them."
"What's in those journals, Martha?"
She glances at the door nervously. "Truths that people have killed to hide. Secrets that go back generations."
Before I can ask more, Sophia's voice echoes. "Elena! Stop hiding! The will reading is starting!"
Martha helps me stand. "Sit next to Philip. Trust your instincts. Don't let them see you cry."
We walk downstairs together. The house feels darker. Like shadows are gathering.
The study door is open. Angry voices leak out.
"Why do we have to wait for her?" My father's voice.
"Because the will requires all beneficiaries present," Mr. Harrison responds calmly.
I take a breath and step inside.
Everyone goes silent. All eyes turn to me.
Father sits behind his desk like a king. Evelyn perches beside him, nose wrinkled like she smells something rotten. Sophia leans against the window, arms crossed. Uncle Philip stands near the bookshelf.
Adrian sits with Isabella on the leather couch. She's practically in his lap.
Mr. Harrison, the elderly lawyer, smiles warmly. "Elena. Perfect timing. Please, sit."
The only empty chair is next to Uncle Philip. Just like the text said.
I sit quickly. Philip nods at me.
"Let's begin." Mr. Harrison opens a thick folder. "We're here to read the last will and testament of Margaret Anne Morgan."
My throat tightens. Three weeks she's been gone. This is the first time we've gathered for her.
Mr. Harrison reads legal language about sound mind and body. Then the bequests.
"To Evelyn Morgan, I leave my jewelry collection. May you wear it with more grace than I did."
Evelyn's face tightens. That sounded like an insult.
"To Sophia Morgan, I leave my vintage fashion collection and fifty thousand dollars."
Sophia gasps. "That's it? Fifty thousand?"
"Sophia!" Father snaps. "Show respect."
But Sophia's face shows clear disappointment.
"To Philip Morgan, I leave my stock portfolio and my legal files. You'll know what to do with them."
Philip's face goes pale. Legal files?
"To Adrian Morgan, I leave my rare book collection, one hundred thousand dollars, and a sealed letter marked 'For Adrian's Eyes Only.'"
Mr. Harrison hands Adrian an envelope. Adrian stares at it like it might explode.
Isabella leans over. "What does it say?"
"It says 'For Adrian's Eyes Only,'" Mr. Harrison repeats firmly.
"And finally." Mr. Harrison looks at me. "To Elena Morgan, I leave my personal art studio and all its contents, my private journals from 1965 to present, my mother's wedding ring, and a sealed letter to be opened immediately."
He slides a thick envelope toward me. My name in Grandmother's handwriting.
"However, there is one condition."
Everyone leans forward.
"Elena must remain at the Morgan estate for no less than two weeks from today. She must participate in all family meals and events. And she must read all journals in their entirety. Failure means her inheritance goes to the Metropolitan Museum of Art."
The room explodes.
"Two weeks?" Father slams his desk. "She can't stay here for two weeks!"
"That's what the will states," Mr. Harrison says calmly.
"This is manipulation!" Evelyn shrieks. "Margaret was senile!"
"I have three doctors' evaluations proving she was of sound mind."
Sophia's voice cuts through. "What's in those journals? Why does Elena have to read them?"
"That's between Elena and her grandmother."
"This is absurd!" Father glares at me. "You manipulated Mother while she was dying—"
"That's enough, Charles." Uncle Philip's voice is hard. "Mother made her choices. We'll respect them."
"Like hell! I'm contesting—"
"You can try," Mr. Harrison interrupts. "But it's airtight. Margaret anticipated challenges."
Isabella speaks sweetly. "Surely Elena doesn't want to stay where she's not welcome? Perhaps she could forfeit the inheritance?"
All eyes turn to me. Waiting.
Part of me wants to run. To leave this toxic family forever.
But I think about Grandmother's studio. The journals. The secrets.
"I'm staying," I say quietly.
"What?" Father looks slapped.
"I'm staying for two weeks. I'm claiming my inheritance." My voice strengthens. "Grandmother wanted me here. She must have had a reason."
Sophia laughs bitterly. "She played favorites. Poor rejected Elena needed a consolation prize."
"It doesn't matter," Father interrupts. "Two weeks. Fine. But you follow house rules. Stay out of our way. And the moment those two weeks are up, you're gone. Permanently."
"Understood."
Mr. Harrison clears his throat. "There's one more thing. A video message Margaret recorded. She asked that it be played after the will was read."
He pulls out a laptop and turns it toward us.
Grandmother's face appears. Tired but bright-eyed and determined.
"Hello, my darlings," she says. Her voice makes my eyes burn. "If you're watching this, I'm gone. And Elena has agreed to stay."
Everyone stares.
"I know you're angry. Charles, you think I've betrayed you. Sophia, you feel overlooked. Evelyn, you're calculating how to contest. And Adrian..." She pauses. "Adrian, I see you sitting next to that girl you don't love, pretending to be happy."
Adrian's face reddens. Isabella stiffens.
"But Elena. You're the brave one. The one who chose truth over comfort. That's why I'm trusting you with the journals. They contain secrets I've kept for sixty years. Secrets that will shock you. Hurt you. Maybe destroy you."
My heart pounds.
"But you need to know the truth. About me. About your grandfather. About Thomas." She takes a breath. "And most importantly, about Adrian."
Adrian sits up straight. "What about me?"
Grandmother just smiles on screen. "Read the journals, Elena. Read them carefully. Then decide if you're brave enough to change this family's future. Or if you'll let history repeat itself like I did."
The video ends.
Silence.
"What did she mean about Adrian?" Isabella demands.
"She was rambling," Evelyn says quickly. "Old age. Don't read into it."
But Uncle Philip stares at me with fear in his eyes.
Mr. Harrison stands. "That concludes the reading. Elena, the journals are in the studio. The key is in your envelope. I suggest you begin reading tonight."
He leaves. The family slowly files out.
Adrian tries to approach but Isabella pulls him away. "We need to talk," she hisses.
Sophia lingers. "I'm sorry," she mouths. Then she's gone.
Only Uncle Philip remains.
"You should leave," he says quietly. "Right now. Before you read those journals. Before you learn things that can't be unlearned."
"What things?"
"Truths people have died to protect. Secrets that could tear this family apart." He looks exhausted. "Your grandmother was brave to expose them. But bravery doesn't always mean survival."
"Are you threatening me?"
"I'm warning you." He walks to the door. "Once you open that letter, nothing will ever be the same. Not for you. Not for Adrian. Not for any of us."
He leaves.
I'm alone with the sealed envelope.
My hands shake as I tear it open.
My dearest Elena,
If you're reading this, you've agreed to stay. Good. You'll need these two weeks.
The journals will tell you everything. About my forbidden love. About the lies I've lived with. About the secret buried in this family for three generations.
But before you read them, you need to know the most important thing:
You and Adrian are not what everyone thinks you are.
When I look at you two together, I see history repeating itself. The same pull. The same impossible connection. The same forbidden attraction I felt sixty years ago.
But here's the truth, sweetheart: What was forbidden for me doesn't have to be forbidden for you.
Read the journals. Learn about Thomas. Learn about the adoption.
Then decide if you're brave enough to love the man whose gray eyes follow you everywhere, even though he's engaged to someone else.
Even though everyone believes he's your cousin.
Even though the truth will scandalize this entire family.
History is repeating itself, Elena. But this time, the ending can be different.
If you're brave enough to write it.
The letter slips from my fingers.
Adoption? What adoption?
The man whose gray eyes follow me?
Adrian.
She's talking about Adrian.
But we're cousins. It's written in family records. It's fact.
Unless it's not fact at all.
Unless everything I've been told is a lie.
My phone buzzes.
Now you're beginning to understand. Your grandmother discovered something three months before she died. Something that changes everything.
Go to the studio. Tonight. Start reading. The first journal from 1965 will explain everything.
And Elena? Lock the door. Someone in this house doesn't want you to learn the truth.
I grab the envelope and run.
Down the hallway. Past portraits of Morgan ancestors who might not be ancestors at all.
I need the studio. I need those journals.
But as I reach the stairs, I hear voices from the garden below.
Adrian's voice. "I can't do this anymore, Isabella. I can't keep pretending."
"Pretending what?" Sharp.
"That I'm happy. That I want this engagement. That I don't feel—" He stops.
"Don't feel what?"
Silence.
"Don't tell me you feel something for her. For that girl who just showed up."
"She's not just some girl—"
"She's your cousin, Adrian! If you think I'm going to let some desperate gold-digger ruin our wedding—"
"Don't call her that!"
I should walk away. But I'm frozen.
"I'm calling her exactly what she is," Isabella hisses. "A poor orphan who came crawling back for money. And you're falling for it."
"You don't know anything about her."
"I know she's causing problems. The way you look at her, Adrian. People are noticing. Your mother is noticing."
Silence.
Then Adrian speaks so quietly I almost miss it. "What if I'm not supposed to marry you?"
My heart stops.
"What are you saying?"
"Maybe we're making a mistake. Maybe this arranged marriage—"
"Stop." Isabella's voice cracks like a whip. "You will not do this. You will not humiliate me because some girl made you feel special. We have a contract, Adrian. Business deals that depend on this marriage."
"I don't care about business deals!"
"Then you're a fool." Her heels click. "Get your head straight. Because if you embarrass me, if you break this engagement, I will destroy her. I will destroy Elena so completely she'll wish she never came back."
Footsteps. Isabella leaving.
I run. Up stairs. Down hallway. Into my room. Lock the door. Gasping.
Adrian was going to break up with Isabella.
Because of me.
But Isabella threatened to destroy me if he does.
And somewhere in Grandmother's journals is the truth about why I feel this pull toward Adrian.
I pull out the letter and read the last line again.
History is repeating itself, Elena. But this time, the ending can be different. If you're brave enough to write it.
Tomorrow I start reading the journals.
Tomorrow I learn the truth.
But tonight I have to decide: Am I brave enough to face what's coming?
Am I brave enough to challenge everything I've been told?
And most terrifying—am I brave enough to fall for a man everyone says I can't have?
Even if Grandmother is telling me I can