Whispers of the Past

Episode 5: Whispers of the Past

Evelyn barely made it past the ballroom doors before she felt the weight of her father’s anger looming over her.

“Evelyn.”

The sharpness in Henry Everleigh’s voice made her pause mid-step. She turned slowly, her carefully composed mask slipping back into place.

Her father stood in the hallway, his piercing blue eyes—so much like her own—locked onto her with quiet fury. His perfectly tailored suit was pristine, his silver hair slicked back, an image of power and control.

“You were dancing,” he said, voice low but firm. “With him.”

Evelyn forced a polite smile. “It was just a dance, Father.”

Henry took a step closer, his gaze darkening. “There is no such thing as ‘just a dance’ with a man like Leon Valenciaga.”

Evelyn held her ground, though her fingers tightened around the edge of her gown. “I didn’t realize our family had such an interest in the mafia.”

Henry’s expression didn’t change, but his jaw clenched slightly. “You should be more careful, Evelyn. The Valenciagas are not people we entertain.”

Evelyn exhaled slowly, studying her father’s face. There was something beneath his anger—something almost like fear.

“Why do you care?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. “What does the Valenciaga name mean to you?”

Henry’s lips pressed into a thin line.

For a split second, Evelyn thought she saw hesitation.

Then, in a controlled tone, he said, “Drop it.”

Evelyn narrowed her eyes. He was hiding something.

But before she could push further, Henry turned away. “Stay away from him,” he ordered over his shoulder. “That’s not a request.”

Then he disappeared down the hall, leaving Evelyn standing there with her heart pounding.

—

Meanwhile, outside the gala, Leon leaned against his sleek black car, watching as Jace approached.

“Well?” Leon asked.

Jace exhaled, handing him a folder. “You were right. Something’s off about the Everleighs.”

Leon flipped open the file. Newspaper clippings, old reports, photos of a burned-down estate. And one image that made his blood run cold.

A black rose.

The same symbol that had been on the letter.

Jace lowered his voice. “The fire wasn’t just some accident, Leon. Someone covered it up. And from what I can tell… the Everleighs aren’t the only ones with blood on their hands.”

Leon’s grip on the folder tightened.

The past was unraveling.

And somehow, Evelyn Everleigh was at the center of it all.

to be continued.....

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