Chapter 20

Gabrielle's POV

The house was eerily quiet again, almost as if it held its breath in Matthew's absence. I stared at the silver key in my hand, its intricate design mesmerizing and foreboding. I couldn't shake the feeling that this little object was the beginning of something big—something Matthew wouldn’t approve of me investigating.

The idea of waiting for him gnawed at me. He was always telling me to stay out of trouble, but trouble seemed to have a knack for finding me anyway.

I sat on the couch, twirling the key between my fingers. My brain was screaming, "Stay put," but my heart? It was shouting, "Find out what’s going on."

Finally, I stood up. "Well, it’s not like I’m leaving the house. I’m just... investigating."

I needed to figure out what the key was for. Matthew hadn’t mentioned anything about sending it, and the strange emblem stamped on the seal didn’t look like anything I’d seen before.

I headed to his office. If there were answers anywhere, they’d be in there. The room smelled like him—woodsy, sharp, and faintly metallic, like rain on a cold night. It made my chest ache, but I shook the feeling off.

The massive desk was covered in papers, files, and the occasional old book written in a language I couldn’t even begin to understand. Vampires and their cryptic tendencies.

I started flipping through the files, trying to ignore the gnawing guilt of invading his personal space.

“Come on, Matthew,” I muttered to myself. “You always hide things in plain sight. Where are you keeping your secrets this time?”

After what felt like forever, I found a small leather-bound journal tucked away in one of the drawers. It was worn, the edges frayed, and it smelled faintly of old ink.

Inside, there were names dozens of them, written in Matthew’s elegant handwriting. Some were crossed out, others circled. Next to them were small symbols, including the same emblem that had been on the seal of the package.

“What is this?” I whispered, running my fingers over the page.

The emblem seemed to represent something—a clan? A secret society? I had no idea. But one thing was clear: this key and these names were connected.

I tucked the journal under my arm and hurried back to the living room. My heart raced as I flipped through the pages, scanning for anything that made sense.

Then I saw it.

A name. A name I recognized.

"Ruele Margo."

I froze.

The man I’d met at the park the man who called himself Mike. His name was right there, circled in bold ink, with a symbol next to it that looked like a dagger.

My stomach twisted.

Who was he? And why was he connected to Matthew?

Before I could dive deeper into the journal, my phone buzzed on the coffee table, pulling me out of my thoughts.

I grabbed it, hoping it was Matthew. Instead, it was an unknown number.

“Hello?”

“Gabrielle,” a deep, familiar voice said on the other end.

My blood ran cold. “Mike?”

“Glad you remember me.” His tone was smooth, almost playful, but there was an edge to it that made my skin crawl.

“What do you want?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

“I couldn’t help but notice you’ve been digging,” he said. “It’s cute, really. But you might want to be careful where you poke your nose, darling. You never know what you’ll find.”

I clenched the phone tighter. “What are you talking about?”

There was a pause, and then he chuckled.

“You have something of mine,” he said. “A little silver key, perhaps? Why don’t we meet and talk about it? I’m sure we can come to an... understanding.”

“No,” I said firmly. “I’m not meeting you anywhere.”

“Oh, Gabrielle,” he sighed. “You really don’t have a choice. You see, that key you’re holding? It opens a door. A very important door. And if you don’t hand it over... well, let’s just say things could get very messy.”

The line went dead before I could respond.

I stared at the phone, my heart pounding.

What had I gotten myself into?

...****************...

The rest of the day passed in a blur. I couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched, of something lurking just beyond my line of sight. I tried calling Matthew, but his phone went straight to voicemail.

By the time night fell, I was on edge. I locked every door and window in the house, double-checking them all twice. The journal and the key were hidden in a drawer in the bedroom, but I couldn’t stop thinking about them.

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to convince myself that everything was fine.

Then I heard it.

A faint tapping sound, like nails on glass.

I bolted upright, my heart hammering in my chest.

The sound came again, louder this time.

I grabbed my phone and crept out of the bedroom, my footsteps silent on the carpet. The tapping was coming from the living room window.

I peeked around the corner, my breath catching in my throat.

A shadowy figure stood outside, its silhouette barely visible in the dim light.

“Gabrielle,” a voice whispered, muffled by the glass.

It was him.

Mike.

I backed away slowly, my hands trembling as I fumbled for my phone to call Matthew again. But before I could, the shadow moved, disappearing into the night.

I locked the front door and slid to the floor, my back against the wood.

This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

And Matthew? Wherever he was, he needed to come back. Soon.

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