Chapter 32
I didn’t get anything clear from my conversation with Elo?se.
We talked about Enzo. She didn’t know why he had given me the money, and I still didn’t believe her.
Elo?se had told me it was better to stop investigating.
That it wasn’t in my interest to learn more about her family, that the money was none of my business.
Now I see she was trying to spare me trouble.
There’s no point in replaying the conversation, given how things have turned out. Let’s move on… half an hour. Yes, it happened half an hour later.
Elo?se had already left the room. Restless and unable to stay put, I decided to find Gina, hoping she was still in her room so we could have some privacy to talk.
Instead, I found her in the living room on the second floor, surrounded by some of the Dubois family members and friends who were still in the house.
Bastian was there too, and he gave me a sideways glance, accompanied by a tentative smile.
I curled into the far corner of the room, creating an unspoken barrier between us.
We all waited for Mr. Dubois and Talia to arrive and call us to dinner. The thought of leaving the house made the anticipation almost unbearable.
My stomach twisted in a tight knot of anxiety.
“Can we talk?” I whispered when I reached Gina’s side.
She was looking at the photographs hanging on the wall, all framed in ornate, golden frames.
“Now?” she whispered back, not taking her eyes off the photos.
“Now.”
“Could it be after dinner?” she asked. “I want to enjoy this all a little more before we leave.”
“Sure,” I said, biting my cheek. “I’m sorry. What are you looking at?”
Gina pointed to one of the photographs. “This is a family snapshot from when they were children, when their parents were still together.”
I stared at the image. A very young Antonia Hawtrey-Moore was holding a small, chubby Elo?se; Laurent Dubois, his jaw tightened, muscles straining beneath the skin, had his hand on the shoulder of a little Enzo, who couldn’t have been older than eight.
Next to Antonia was a young woman, her smile directed at the camera, and beside Laurent Dubois stood a man in a suit, his head turned toward Antonia, his attention focused on her and not on the camera.
“Is that…?” I asked, studying the way his arms hung by his sides, a subtle rigidity in his stance.
“Norman, the chauffeur,” Gina said. “Elo?se told me that, as her father’s friend and employee, he was always with them. The other woman… I think her name was Ivet. Yes, that was it. She took care of the children.”
“Ivet?” I asked. “The same Ivet I visited a few days ago?”
Gina’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, yes! I’d forgotten about that!”
I was about to comment further on the photograph, but Gina’s attention was already on the next one.
“Look, V. This one is just Elo?se with a Saint Bernard they had years ago…”
I lost track of the conversation when Bastian brushed past me.
The brief touch of his hand against mine sent a jolt of electricity through my body, and I shook it off.
Not now, Vera, I told myself. This can wait.
I turned to watch him, but he was already moving away, heading toward Mr. Dubois.
He had just entered the room with Enzo. His brows drew together, shadowing his eyes.
“Has anyone seen my daughter?” Mr. Dubois asked, his gaze swept the room, lingering for a moment on Bastian.
When Bastian shook his head, Mr. Dubois shrugged and added, “Ah, well. She’ll come around.
Dinner is about to be served. Please, everyone, move to the main dining room,” he finished with a forced smile.
Enzo’s eyes snapped to mine, but I didn’t give him a chance to say anything.
Given that half of the guests had left the house early in the afternoon, only eleven of us remained from the more than twenty who had been present during brunch.
From the corner of my eye, I caught Enzo standing next to the couch.
He stood still, watching, as if waiting for me to make the first move.
I quickened my pace, as if putting distance between us could sever the pull.
The taste of his betrayal lingered in my mouth, overshadowing every other feeling I tried to hold on to, even if my stomach lurched at the sight of his sparkling eyes, even if his gentle touch echoed in the back of my mind.
Opposite to me, Bastian hurried to leave the room. Bastian, whom I didn’t want to think about, whose lips had caressed mine with such softness that I doubted anything else would ever compare.
But I couldn’t let myself be fooled. Not when both guys held more secrets each than the old walls of this manor. Not when I had bigger fires to put out, like what I had seen in that picture on the wall.
My mind was focused on one thing: I needed to talk to Bastian as soon as possible.