Victoria finally left me alone after an hour of trying on diamonds that felt like heavy chains. I waited until the mansion was silent, the only sound being the distant ticking of the grandfather clock in the hall.
I slipped back into the library, my heart racing. I grabbed the blue diary and retreated to a dark corner behind the mahogany shelves. My fingers trembled as I flipped the pages... 38, 39, 40, 41...
Page 42.
The handwriting was frantic, different from the elegant script on the envelope.
"He thinks he's won. Alexander thinks this marriage will bind me to the Blackwood empire forever. But he doesn't know that I've already moved the funds. By the time he reads this, I'll be gone. I'd rather disappear than spend another night with a man who sees me as a trophy and not a human being. He doesn't love me; he loves the idea of owning me. If anyone finds this... run. Before the Blackwood gold becomes your coffin."
I gasped, closing the book. Isabella didn't die in a tragic accident. She was planning to escape. She hated him.
"The lighting is better by the window, don't you think?"
I nearly screamed. Alexander was standing right there, leaning against a bookshelf, watching me with an intensity that made my skin crawl. He wasn't wearing his jacket, and his sleeves were rolled up, revealing a dark tattoo on his forearm I hadn't noticed before—a thorned rose.
"I was just... finishing my poetry," I stammered, hiding the diary behind my back.
He walked toward me, each step slow and predatory. He didn't stop until he was inches away, his shadow completely covering me.
"Isabella always hid things in this corner," he whispered, his voice dangerously smooth. "She thought she was clever. She thought she could outrun a Blackwood."
He reached behind me, his hand brushing my waist as he snatched the diary from my grip. He didn't even look at it; he just threw it into the fireplace across the room.
"The past is ash, Elena," he said, his eyes locking onto mine. "And if you try to follow in her footsteps, you'll find that I've learned from my mistakes. You aren't leaving this house. Not in two weeks. Not ever.