Chapter 10 The Forbidden East Wing
David's POV
I was sitting in my surveillance room at two in the morning, watching the monitors like I did every night, when I saw Brittany's door open and her small figure step into the hallway. She was wearing a white nightgown that made her look like a ghost in the dim light, and she was walking slowly, aimlessly, like she didn't know where she was going or didn't care.
I had watched her pour out Chloe's tea earlier, had watched the plant die, had seen her face when she realized her best friend had tried to poison her, and I knew she wouldn't be able to sleep tonight. The betrayal was too fresh, too deep, and I understood that feeling better than anyone.
I stood up from my chair and left the surveillance room, walking through the dark hallways until I found her standing by one of the tall windows, staring out at the gardens below. The moonlight painted her skin silver, and she looked so fragile and broken that something inside my chest tightened.
"You should be in bed," I said quietly.
Brittany jumped and spun around, her hand flying to her chest, and when she saw it was me, some of the fear left her eyes, but not all of it.
"I couldn't sleep," she said.
"Because of the tea," I said.
She looked at me with surprise. "You knew?"
"I know everything that happens in this house," I said. "That's why the cameras exist."
Brittany wrapped her arms around herself and turned back to the window. "My best friend tried to kill me, or someone paid her to kill me, and I don't even know which is worse."
"Both are equally bad," I said, walking closer to her. "But at least now you know who your enemies are."
"Do I?" Brittany asked, her voice sharp. "Because right now it feels like everyone is my enemy, Chloe, your brothers, the staff, maybe even you."
I deserved that, I knew I deserved that, but it still stung more than I expected.
"I'm not your enemy," I said. "I'm the only thing standing between you and a grave."
Brittany turned to look at me, her eyes searching my face for something, and I saw the exhaustion there, the weight of everything she had been carrying alone.
"Why did you marry me?" she asked suddenly. "The real reason, not the contract or the protection story, why me?"
I could have lied, could have given her some business answer about strategic alliances or family obligations, but I was tired of lying, tired of hiding.
"Because I've been watching you for a long time," I said. "And I decided you were worth saving."
Brittany stared at me for a long moment, and I saw something shift in her expression, something that looked like understanding mixed with fear.
"I need answers," she said. "I need to know what's really happening in this house, I need to know why your mother had the same necklace my grandmother gave me, the one Bianca is wearing now."
My blood went cold. "What did you say?"
"Your mother," Brittany said. "I saw her portrait in the main hall; she was wearing a necklace with a red stone shaped like a teardrop, the same one my grandmother gave me on my wedding day, the one Bianca stole."
I felt the ground shift beneath my feet, felt the pieces of a puzzle I didn't know existed start to click into place.
"Come with me," I said.
"Where?" Brittany asked.
"The East Wing," I said. "My mother's belongings are there; if there's a connection, we'll find it."
Brittany hesitated, and I remembered Elena's warning to her about the East Wing, about staying away from that cursed place.
"I'll be with you," I said. "Nothing will hurt you while I'm there."
She nodded slowly, and we walked together through the dark hallways, past the portraits of dead Blackwells, past the rooms where my brothers slept, until we reached the heavy wooden door that led to the East Wing.
I pulled out a key I kept on a chain around my neck and unlocked the door, and it swung open with a long, low creak that sounded like a warning.
The East Wing smelled like dust and old memories, and the air was cold and still, like no one had breathed here in years. I flipped a switch, and old lights flickered on, casting yellow shadows across the hallway lined with closed doors.
"This is where my mother lived before she died," I said. "No one comes here anymore. My father sealed it off after her funeral."
We walked down the hallway, our footsteps echoing on the wooden floor, and I opened the door to my mother's bedroom. It looked exactly the way it had twenty years ago, the bed made with silk sheets, the vanity covered in perfume bottles, the walls lined with photographs and paintings.
Brittany walked over to one of the photographs and stopped, her hand rising to cover her mouth.
"What is it?" I asked.
She pointed at the picture with a shaking finger, and I walked over to see what she was looking at.
It was a photograph of my mother standing with two small girls, maybe five or six years old, identical twins with dark hair and bright eyes. My mother had her arms around both of them, smiling as she loved them, and around her neck was the necklace, the red teardrop stone catching the light.
"That's me," Brittany whispered. "And that's Bianca."
I stared at the photograph, my mind racing, and I walked over to my mother's desk, pulling open drawers until I found what I was looking for.
Her journal, a thick leather book filled with her handwriting, and I flipped through the pages until I found an entry dated twenty-two years ago.
"What does it say?" Brittany asked, coming to stand beside me.
I read the words silently first, and I felt my entire world crack open.
Then I read them aloud, my voice hollow and distant.
"I promised to protect both Redman girls after their parents died in the fire I caused, but the smoke was too thick and the flames were too high, and I could only carry one child out before the roof collapsed, I had to choose, and God forgive me, I chose Bianca, I chose the one who reached for me first, and I left Brittany behind in the flames."
Brittany made a sound like a wounded animal, and I looked up to see her face completely white, her eyes wide with horror.
"Your mother killed my parents," she whispered. "And she left me to die."