I reached for my butler’s phone, hoping to find some clues about his sudden vanishing act. Thankfully, he never locked it, so I was able to access it easily. I checked his last screen activity and saw that he had been viewing the car’s logs. I scrolled through the menu, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. I then checked his call log and saw that my father had called him twice.
- 10:45 AM: Call from Mr Laforteza (30 seconds)
- 12:10 AM: Call from Mr Laforteza (5 seconds)
Huh?
The first call had lasted for thirty seconds, coinciding with the time I was in the bathroom in the Nox Dev club.
This content is taken from fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm.
The second call, however, had been much shorter, lasting only five seconds. It seemed unlikely that they could have had a meaningful conversation in such a brief time. I couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was off.
I checked the current time and matched it with the time of the last call with my dad. A chill ran down my spine as I realized it had been just five minutes earlier.
I examined the phone more closely and noticed a faint crack on the screen. It looked like he had dropped it intentionally and in a hurry too, but that didn’t add up. My butler was always meticulous and composed, never prone to careless mistakes.
Unless... A disturbing thought crept into my mind, and I felt a surge of anxiety. I reached for the envelope, my hands shaking slightly as I picked it up.
Beads of sweat formed on my palms, and my breathing became shallow and labored. The air seemed to thicken with tension, making it hard to breathe properly.
I ripped open the envelope, and a card slipped out. I picked it up, expecting a note or a message, but instead, I found a credit card.
I furrowed my brow in confusion. What’s this for? I already had my own credit card, and a spare one I used under a fake identity to stash some cash.
It then dawned on me that this credit card might be intended for someone else. But my curiosity got the better of me, and I pulled out the accompanying paper.
As I read the first few words, my eyes widened in shock, and I felt myself falling back into my seat.
The words on the paper blurred together as I read the desperate message:
"… Tell her I love her… and I love you. Take her far away… Please, make sure she doesn’t fall into the hands of… Dominique. Do everything in your power to save her… please… please save her from him. Let Dominique take everything he wants… But let him get her. Give her the card. Make sure she destroys the old—- so… he... track…. Track her…."
It wasn’t until a tear dropped onto the paper, smudging the ink, that I realized I was crying. The words swam together, and I felt a lump form in my throat as the weight of the message sank in.
A chill ran down my spine as I wondered: why did it feel like these were my father’s dying words? But how was that possible? My father and butler had been on call when my butler was in the car just five minutes ago.
I tried to shake off the feeling of unease, sniffing back tears as I attempted to finish reading the letter. But my vision blurred, and the words swam together on the page.
I reached for my phone with shaky hands and dialed my father’s number. The phone rang, but he didn’t pick up. I called again and again, my anxiety growing with each unanswered ring. Finally, the call connected, but to my surprise, it was my butler’s husky voice on the other end, not my father’s.
My mind reeled with questions. Why was my butler answering my father’s phone? How did he get there? We were still hours away from home. What was going on? I felt a sense of dread creeping over me, and I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong.
"Listen to me carefully," my butler said sternly, his voice low and urgent. Despite his efforts to maintain a calm tone, the pain and gravity underlying his words were unmistakable.
"Where’s Dad? Where’s Grandpa?" I rushed out, my voice shaking with worry. "I found a letter... I don’t understand what’s going on."
"They’re dead," my butler stated bluntly, his words hitting me like a ton of bricks. I felt my chest tighten, as if the air had been squeezed out of me.
"Listen to me carefully," he continued, his voice firm but laced with a hint of desperation. "Read the letter and do exactly as your father instructed. Don’t waste time blaming yourself for not being there. It wouldn’t have made a difference; it was always meant to happen. Fate intervened, making you leave when you did. Now, there’s a house key in the car’s glove compartment with an address attached. Go there, change your last name, and start anew. They don’t know who you are, so you have a chance to disappear."
"I’m coming home," I told him curtly, already positioning myself in the front seat. I was convinced that this was some kind of twisted prank, and I tried to reassure myself of that as I started the car, wiping away tears.
But before I could even put the car in gear, my butler’s voice came through the phone again, this time muttering incoherent words.
Suddenly, the car lurched forward, moving on its own. I was shocked and disoriented.
"What—- how? What’s going on?" I exclaimed, my voice shaking with alarm. I frantically searched for answers, but the car continued to accelerate, speeding down the road with no apparent control.
The seat belt tuck me on its own making the situation even weirder.
"You’ll find the answers you seek in that house," my butler’s voice said, his tone low and mysterious. "And always remember to trust no one."
A loud, ugly, and inhumane growl ripped through the air from his end, making my skin crawl. My butler’s voice came through the phone once more, his words laced with a hint of warning.
"Especially Werewolves..." he said, before a loud crash echoed through the line, and the call dropped. The sudden silence was deafening, leaving me with more questions than answers.