019

019
019
It's Non of your business 

Charlotte stood outside Astor’s office door, her fists clenched at her sides. Her mind was a whirlwind of questions, doubts, and fears, but one thought stood above the rest, she needed answers. 

She took a deep breath and pushed the door open without knocking.

Astor looked up from his desk, his grey-brown eyes narrowing. “Charlotte,” he said, his tone sharp. “This better be important.”

“Oh, it’s important,” Charlotte snapped, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. “What’s in the locked room?”

Astor’s expression darkened instantly. He leaned back in his chair, his jaw tightening. “I told you before, Charlotte, that’s none of your business.”

“None of my business?” she repeated, her voice rising. “Someone’s been leaving threatening notes in my room, watching me and Jasmine, and you expect me to stay quiet? To ignore the fact that there’s something in this house you don’t want anyone to see?”

Astor stood abruptly, his towering presence filling the room. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, his voice dangerously low.

“Then enlighten me,” Charlotte shot back, refusing to back down. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re hiding something. Something big.”

Astor slammed his hands down on the desk, the sound echoing through the room. “Stay out of it, Charlotte,” he barked. “This isn’t your fight.”

“Isn’t it?” she countered, stepping closer. “Jasmine and I are caught in the middle of whatever this is, Astor. Don’t you dare tell me it’s not my fight.”

The tension crackled between them, their heated glares locked.

Before either could say another word, the door creaked open.

“Mommy? Daddy?” Jasmine’s voice broke through the storm, trembling with fear.

Charlotte turned immediately, her heart sinking at the sight of her daughter standing in the doorway, clutching her doll tightly.

Astor’s expression softened instantly. He stepped around the desk and crouched to Jasmine’s level. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he asked gently.

Jasmine’s lower lip quivered. “You were yelling,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Charlotte knelt beside her, pulling her into a hug. “We’re sorry, baby,” she said softly. “We didn’t mean to scare you.”

Astor placed a hand on Jasmine’s shoulder, his touch light and reassuring. “It’s okay,” he said. “Everything’s fine.”

Jasmine nodded slowly, her small frame relaxing slightly.

“Why don’t you go play in your room for a bit?” Charlotte suggested. “Mommy and Daddy need to talk.”

Jasmine hesitated but eventually nodded, her steps hesitant as she left the office.

\---

The silence that followed her departure was deafening.

“You need to stop this,” Astor said finally, his voice quieter but no less intense.

“Stop what?” Charlotte demanded. “Asking questions? Trying to protect my daughter?”

Astor ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. “You think I don’t want to protect her too?” he snapped. “You think I don’t know what’s at stake here?”

Charlotte froze, her anger faltering. “What are you talking about?”

Astor hesitated, his jaw tightening again. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh and leaned against the desk.

“Someone’s been trying to blackmail me,” he admitted, his voice low.

Charlotte’s breath caught. “Blackmail?”

Astor nodded, his expression grim. “It started a few months ago, anonymous messages, demands for money in exchange for silence.”

“Silence about what?” Charlotte pressed.

Astor’s gaze shifted to the window, his eyes distant. “My inheritance,” he said after a long pause. “There are… things about my past, about my family, that could destroy everything if they came to light.”

Charlotte stared at him, her mind racing. “And you think Jasmine and I are targets now?”

Astor’s jaw tightened further. “I don’t think, I know. Whoever’s behind this knows too much. The photos, the notes, they’re trying to scare you because they know it’ll get to me.”

Charlotte felt a chill run down her spine. “So what do we do?”

Astor turned back to her, his expression hardening. “We have to stay vigilant,” he said. “And don’t let them win.”

\---

That night, Charlotte couldn’t sleep. She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, her thoughts a tangled mess of fear.

Every sound in the house seemed amplified, every creak of the floorboards sending her pulse racing. She couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

She sat up, running a hand through her hair. There was no use in trying to sleep, not with her mind racing like this.

Deciding to get some water, she slipped out of bed and padded toward the kitchen. The halls were dark and quiet, the only light coming from the faint glow of the moon through the windows.

As she turned a corner, she nearly bumped into Brandon, who was carrying a tray of dishes.

“Miss Walker,” he said, startled. “What are you doing up so late?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Charlotte admitted. “Too much on my mind.”

Brandon nodded, his expression sympathetic. “I understand. This house has a way of getting under your skin.”

Charlotte hesitated. “Have you noticed anything... strange lately?”

Brandon’s brow furrowed. “Strange how?”

“People coming and going, whispers in the halls, that sort of thing,” Charlotte said carefully.

Brandon’s expression darkened slightly. “There’s always something happening in this house,” he said. “But if you’re asking if I’ve seen anything out of the ordinary recently... no, I haven’t.”

Charlotte nodded, though her unease remained. “Thanks, Brandon.”

“Of course,” he said with a faint smile. “If you need anything, just let me know.”

\---

Charlotte returned to her room, but the uneasy feeling hadn’t left her. She locked the door behind her and sat on the edge of the bed, her head in her hands.

Astor’s confession about the blackmail replayed in her mind, along with the cryptic warnings she’d received. None of it made sense, and the more she thought about it, the more questions she had.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft sound outside her door, a faint, almost imperceptible shuffle of footsteps.

Her heart stopped.

She froze, listening intently as the footsteps grew louder, then stopped just outside her room.

A shadow appeared under the doorframe, lingering there.

Charlotte’s pulse raced as she stared at the shadow, her breath caught in her throat. Whoever it was, they weren’t moving. They were just... standing there.

Her mind raced with possibilities. Was it Astor? William? Or someone else entirely?

The shadow shifted slightly, but the person didn’t knock or speak.

Charlotte decided to tiptoe and know who this person was, and there it was.