Chapter 4: Beneath the Surface

The night had passed with restless tension. Even after the mysterious figure disappeared from the estate, Aarohi and Javier couldn’t shake the feeling that danger was lurking just out of sight. The morning brought no reprieve, only a fresh wave of anxiety as the sun cast long shadows across the Castillo estate.

In the grand dining hall, a large table sat prepared for breakfast, but the usual chatter of the servants was absent. Aarohi noticed the eerie silence as she walked in. Javier sat at the head of the table, sipping his coffee, his face a mask of calm. Elena joined them, her gaze darting between Aarohi and her brother, but she said nothing.

The clinking of cutlery was the only sound that filled the room. Aarohi’s mind raced with thoughts of the previous night—the shadowy figure in the garden, Javier’s quick reaction with the gun, the way he had held her afterward, promising protection. But promises didn’t eliminate the threat that was still out there.

“So,” Elena finally broke the silence, her voice light but carrying an edge of tension, “did you two have an eventful night?”

Javier glanced at Aarohi before replying, his voice measured. “Just a minor disturbance. Nothing to worry about.”

Elena raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a sly smile. “Minor disturbance? Is that what you’re calling it? I heard the staff whispering about seeing someone on the grounds last night. Maybe it’s not as minor as you think, brother.”

Javier’s jaw tightened. “It’s under control.”

But Aarohi could sense the undercurrent of unease in his tone. Whatever was happening, it wasn’t as simple as he wanted to believe.

She cleared her throat, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction. “Elena, do you know if anyone else in the family is aware of this... danger?”

Elena’s smile faltered, and she glanced at Javier, as if seeking permission to speak. After a moment of silence, she leaned forward, her expression serious. “Our family has always had enemies, Aarohi. When you’re in the position we’re in, it’s inevitable. But recently, things have escalated. There’s talk of... old debts that haven’t been settled.”

“Old debts?” Aarohi repeated, frowning. “What does that mean?”

Elena exchanged a glance with Javier before continuing. “Our father wasn’t just involved in business, Aarohi. He had connections with some dangerous people. People who don’t just let things go. When he died, those connections didn’t disappear. They’ve been waiting, biding their time, and now...”

“Now they want revenge,” Javier finished, his voice hard. “And they think coming after us—after this marriage—is the way to get it.”

Aarohi’s heart sank. She had known that marrying into the Castillo family wouldn’t be simple, but this... this was more than she had ever imagined. She was caught in a web of old grudges and unfinished business, and there was no easy way out.

“So what do we do?” she asked, trying to keep the fear from her voice.

Javier set down his coffee cup, his expression resolute. “We stay vigilant. I’ve already taken steps to increase security around the estate. No one gets in or out without my knowledge. But we also need to figure out who’s behind this. We can’t just sit and wait for them to make the next move.”

Aarohi nodded, a sense of determination rising within her. She wasn’t just going to be a passive victim in this. If she was going to survive, she needed to be proactive. “I want to help,” she said firmly. “Whatever it takes, I’m in this with you.”

Javier’s eyes softened as he looked at her, a flicker of pride crossing his face. “I appreciate that, Aarohi. But it’s dangerous—”

“I know it’s dangerous,” she interrupted, her voice steady. “But I’m not going to just stand by and do nothing. We’re in this together.”

Elena smiled faintly. “I like her, Javier. She’s got spirit. You’re going to need that if you want to survive this mess.”

Javier’s gaze lingered on Aarohi for a moment before he nodded. “Alright. We’ll do this together. But you have to promise me that you’ll be careful. If things get too dangerous, you get out of there. Understood?”

Aarohi nodded, even though she wasn’t sure how much she could promise. She wasn’t the type to back down, even in the face of danger. But she understood the gravity of the situation, and she wouldn’t be reckless.

Later that afternoon, Aarohi found herself wandering through the estate’s expansive library. The walls were lined with ancient books, their spines cracked and worn from years of use. It was a peaceful place, far removed from the tension that gripped the rest of the house. But even here, she couldn’t escape the weight of what she had learned.

As she perused the shelves, her fingers trailing over the dusty tomes, she came across a small, leather-bound journal tucked away in a corner. It looked old, its pages yellowed with age. Curiosity piqued, she carefully pulled it from the shelf and opened it.

The handwriting inside was neat, elegant, and unmistakably feminine. Aarohi’s heart skipped a beat as she realized it was a diary—belonging to someone from the Castillo family.

She scanned the first few entries, realizing they had been written decades ago. The diary belonged to **Isabella Castillo**, Javier and Elena’s mother. Aarohi had only met her briefly, and the woman had seemed distant, almost cold. But reading her words now, Aarohi saw a different side of her—one filled with fear, love, and desperation.

One entry in particular caught her attention:

_"June 14th, 1989  

I’m so scared. Every day, the walls feel like they’re closing in on me. There are things Rafael hasn’t told me—things I’m starting to discover on my own. The people he’s dealing with... they’re dangerous. I’ve tried to talk to him, to make him see reason, but he won’t listen. He says he’s doing it for the family, for us. But at what cost? I’m afraid of what might happen if he doesn’t stop. I’m afraid of what might happen to our children. They’re innocent in all of this. They don’t deserve to grow up in a world filled with shadows and secrets."_

Aarohi’s breath caught as she read the words. Isabella had known about the danger, even back then. She had been trying to protect her family, just like Javier was now. But what had happened to her? Why had she withdrawn from the family after Rafael’s death? And most importantly, what else did she know?

Before Aarohi could read further, the sound of footsteps echoed through the hallway outside the library. She quickly tucked the diary under her arm and turned, just as the door opened.

It was Elena.

“What are you doing in here?” Elena asked, her tone curious but not accusatory.

Aarohi hesitated for a moment before showing her the diary. “I found this. It’s your mother’s. I thought it might help us understand what’s going on.”

Elena’s expression darkened as she looked at the diary. “You shouldn’t have found that.”

Aarohi frowned. “Why not? Don’t you want to know what your mother was dealing with? She was scared, Elena. She knew something terrible was coming.”

Elena’s eyes flickered with something—fear, or perhaps anger. “My mother... she was fragile. After our father died, she couldn’t handle the pressure. She shut herself off from the world. Whatever she wrote in that diary, it’s from a different time. It doesn’t matter now.”

“But it does matter,” Aarohi insisted. “This isn’t over, Elena. Whatever your father was involved in, it’s still affecting us now. We need to know the truth if we’re going to survive this.”

Elena’s gaze softened for a moment, and she let out a sigh. “You’re right. But be careful, Aarohi. The more you dig into the past, the more dangerous it becomes. Not everything buried should be uncovered.”

Aarohi nodded, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that the answers she needed were hidden somewhere in the pages of Isabella’s diary. And no matter how dangerous it was, she had to find them.

That night, Aarohi couldn’t sleep. She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the weight of the diary pressing against her chest. Javier was beside her, his breathing deep and even, but she knew he wasn’t as calm as he appeared. The tension in his body was palpable, even in sleep.

Finally, unable to resist any longer, she slipped out of bed and quietly made her way to the small sitting area by the window. She opened the diary again, the pages fragile under her fingers.

The next entry she read made her blood run cold:

_"August 23rd, 1989  

I think they’re watching us. I can feel it, even when I’m alone in the house. There are shadows everywhere, whispers in the walls. Rafael says I’m imagining things, but I know I’m not. Someone is out there, waiting. I can’t let them hurt my family. I have to protect them, no matter what it takes. Even if it means..."_

The entry abruptly ended, the ink smudged as if Isabella had been interrupted while writing. Aarohi stared at the unfinished

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