Chapter 2 THE DEAD MAN IN HER BACK SEAT

Isabella couldn't scream.

She couldn't move.

She could barely breathe.

The figure sitting in the back seat of her car looked like a man, but something about him was horribly wrong. His skin was pale and stretched, his eyes were sunken, and dark veins spread across his neck like cracks in broken glass.

He smiled at her through the rearview mirror.

"Beautiful night, isn't it?"

Isabella's hand trembled against the steering wheel.

"Who are you?"

The man tilted his head.

"Someone who died a long time ago."

"Get out of my car!"

He laughed softly.

"You're brave. I can see why Damien likes you."

The mention of Damien's name sent a chill down her spine.

"How do you know Damien?"

The man's smile disappeared.

"Because I was there when he died."

Isabella turned around, but the man moved so quickly that she barely saw him. One moment, he was sitting behind her. The next, his face was inches from hers.

She screamed and scrambled toward the passenger door.

"Don't touch me!"

He raised both hands.

"Relax. If I wanted you dead, you wouldn't still be talking."

"That is not helping!"

For the first time, he seemed amused.

"You're right. My apologies."

He leaned back.

"My name is Vincent. And if you want to survive the next few days, you need to forget you ever met Damien Cross."

Isabella stared at him.

"Why?"

"Because the man you're falling for isn't what you think he is."

"I'm not falling for anybody!"

Vincent looked at her for a long moment.

Then he laughed.

"Of course not."

Before Isabella could respond, every light inside the car went out.

A cold breeze swept through the vehicle.

When the lights returned, Vincent was gone.

Isabella didn't wait to investigate.

She threw the car into reverse, drove out of the parking space, and headed straight home.

She didn't stop at a red light until a furious driver honked behind her.

By the time she reached her apartment in the French Quarter, her hands were shaking so badly that she dropped her keys twice.

She locked the door, checked the windows, and dragged a chair beneath the doorknob.

Then she called her best friend.

Emma answered on the fourth ring.

"Isabella Hayes, if you're calling me to complain about that useless boyfriend again, I swear-"

"Emma."

Something in Isabella's voice silenced her.

"What happened?"

"I think I'm losing my mind."

"Okay. That's not new. What happened?"

"There's a dead man following me."

Silence.

Then Emma said, "I'm coming over."

Twenty minutes later, Emma arrived wearing pajama pants, an oversized sweatshirt, and the expression of someone prepared to fight an entire army for her best friend.

She carried a bag of snacks.

"All right," she announced, dropping onto the couch. "Start talking."

Isabella told her everything.

The mysterious man in the bar.

The stranger who called Damien dead.

The photograph.

The phone call.

And Vincent.

Emma listened without interrupting, which was unusual enough to make Isabella even more nervous.

When Isabella finished, Emma slowly set down her drink.

"Let me get this straight. You met a handsome man, discovered he supposedly died three years ago, and now a creepy stranger is appearing in your car?"

"Yes."

Emma stared at her.

"Girl, you need a vacation."

"Emma!"

"I'm serious! Have you considered that someone might be playing a very elaborate prank on you?"

"Have you considered that I might actually be in danger?"

Emma's expression softened.

"Okay. I'm sorry."

She reached for Isabella's hand.

"We'll figure this out. But first, show me the photograph."

Isabella unlocked her phone and handed it over.

Emma studied the picture.

Then she went completely still.

"What?" Isabella asked.

Emma enlarged the image.

"Isabella, look at this."

She pointed to the background.

Behind Damien stood a woman wearing a white dress. Her face was partially hidden by shadows, but there was something familiar about her.

"Do you recognize her?" Emma asked.

"No."

Emma swallowed.

"I do."

Isabella sat up.

"Who is she?"

Emma looked toward the window before answering.

"Victoria Blackwood."

The name meant nothing to Isabella.

"Should I know her?"

"She's the daughter of one of the richest families in Louisiana. Her father owns hotels, real estate companies, and half the businesses people in this city pretend they don't know about."

"And?"

"And she was supposed to marry Damien Cross."

Isabella felt something tighten in her chest.

"Marry him?"

Emma nodded.

"Three years ago, their engagement was announced in every major society magazine. Then Damien died in that mansion fire, and Victoria disappeared from public life for almost a year."

Isabella looked back at the photograph.

"Why was she standing behind him?"

"That's what we're going to find out."

Emma reached for her laptop.

"Let's see what the internet knows."

For the next hour, they searched through old newspaper articles, archived interviews, and photographs.

Most of the reports said the same thing.

Damien Cross had been found inside his family's mansion after a devastating fire.

He was twenty-seven.

His fiancée, Victoria Blackwood, had been questioned but never charged with anything.

His body had never been recovered.

And the case had eventually gone cold.

Then Emma found something that made both women stop talking.

An article published two days before Damien's death carried a headline that read:

CROSS FAMILY HEIR CANCELS WEDDING AMID SHOCKING FAMILY DISPUTE.

The article was short, but one sentence stood out.

Sources close to the family claim Damien Cross had recently threatened to expose a secret that could destroy several powerful families.

"That's strange," Emma murmured.

"What secret?"

"I don't know."

Isabella stared at the screen.

For reasons she couldn't explain, she felt a deep sadness.

She had known Damien for less than an hour, yet the thought of him dying alone in a burning mansion made her chest ache.

It was ridiculous.

She didn't know him.

She didn't even know whether he was human.

But something about his eyes had stayed with her.

The loneliness.

The fear.

The way he'd looked at her as if she were the only person in the world who mattered.

Her phone vibrated.

A new message appeared.

DAMIEN: Are you home?

Isabella stared at it.

Emma leaned over her shoulder.

"Oh, absolutely not. Don't answer that."

Another message arrived.

DAMIEN: Please, Isabella. I need to know you're safe.

Emma shook her head.

"Nope. That's how horror movies start."

Isabella typed a reply.

ISABELLA: Who are you? Really?

The response came almost immediately.

DAMIEN: Someone who should have stayed dead.

Her throat tightened.

She typed again.

ISABELLA: Then why are you here?

This time, the reply took longer.

When it finally arrived, she wished she hadn't asked.

DAMIEN: Because three years ago, before I died, I saw your face in a dream.

Isabella's fingers went cold.

Another message followed.

DAMIEN: And last night was the first time I saw you awake.

She read the words twice.

Then a third message appeared.

DAMIEN: I'm coming to see you. There's something I need to tell you before Victoria finds you.

Emma jumped to her feet.

"Absolutely not!"

Isabella looked up.

"What?"

"You're not meeting a potentially undead billionaire in the middle of the night because he sent you a mysterious text!"

"He said Victoria is looking for me."

"Then we call the police!"

"And tell them what? That a dead man is texting me?"

Emma opened her mouth, then closed it.

"Fine. But if he comes here, I'm staying."

Ten minutes later, someone knocked on the door.

Three slow knocks.

Isabella and Emma exchanged a look.

"Don't move," Emma whispered.

The knock came again.

Then a familiar voice spoke from the other side.

"Isabella. It's Damien."

Emma grabbed a heavy decorative lamp from the table.

"If he turns into a monster, I'm hitting him with this."

Despite everything, Isabella almost laughed.

She approached the door cautiously.

"How do I know it's really you?"

"Because you told me my excuse for knowing your name was terrible."

She hesitated.

Then she unlocked the door.

Damien stood in the hallway wearing a black coat, his dark hair damp from the rain.

He looked exhausted.

But the moment his eyes met hers, something softened in his expression.

"You're safe," he whispered.

Isabella folded her arms.

"You have a lot of explaining to do."

"I know."

"Start with the part where you're supposed to be dead."

Damien glanced at Emma, who was still holding the lamp.

"Your friend doesn't like me."

"She's considering hitting you with a lamp."

"That's fair."

Emma blinked.

"Did he just agree with me?"

"Can we please focus?" Isabella snapped.

Damien stepped inside.

The moment he crossed the threshold, Isabella noticed something strange.

He didn't cast a shadow beneath the hallway light.

She looked down.

Nothing.

Her stomach twisted.

"Damien?"

He followed her gaze.

For the first time since she'd met him, genuine fear crossed his face.

"Isabella, listen to me carefully."

He closed the door behind him.

"What I'm about to tell you will change everything you believe about life, death, and the people you trust."

Emma slowly lowered the lamp.

"That sounds reassuring."

Damien ignored her.

"Three years ago, I was murdered. The people responsible believed they had destroyed every trace of me. They were wrong."

Isabella swallowed.

"What happened to you?"

"I woke up in a place where no one should ever wake up."

His voice became quieter.

"I couldn't feel my heartbeat. I couldn't remember how long I'd been there. And when I finally escaped, I discovered that the world had moved on without me."

He looked at his hands.

"I was dead, Isabella. But somehow, I was still here."

Emma took a step backward.

"Okay. I'm officially uncomfortable."

Isabella barely heard her.

"Why did you come looking for me?"

Damien raised his eyes.

"Because my death wasn't an accident. It was part of something much bigger. And now that you've met me, the people who killed me believe you know something you shouldn't."

"I don't know anything!"

"I know."

"Then why would they come after me?"

"Because they don't believe you."

He reached into his coat and pulled out a small, silver pendant.

Isabella's breath caught.

She recognized it immediately.

It was identical to the pendant her mother had worn for as long as she could remember.

The same intricate design.

The same tiny black stone at its center.

The same unusual symbol engraved on the back.

But Isabella's mother had died when she was twelve.

And she'd taken the pendant with her to the grave.

"Where did you get that?" Isabella whispered.

Damien's expression changed.

"I found it the night I died."

He placed the pendant in her palm.

"Your mother was there, Isabella."

The room seemed to tilt.

"My mother was dead long before you died."

"Then someone lied to you."

Isabella shook her head.

"No. That's impossible."

Damien looked at her with an expression that frightened her more than anything else that had happened that night.

"I wish it were."

Suddenly, his entire body stiffened.

He turned toward the window.

"What is it?" Emma asked.

Damien didn't answer.

Outside, a black car had pulled up beside the building.

A woman stepped out, holding a white umbrella.

Even through the rain, Isabella recognized the face from the photograph.

Victoria Blackwood.

She looked directly up at Isabella's apartment.

Then she smiled.

Damien grabbed Isabella's hand.

"Whatever happens," he whispered, "don't let her touch that pendant."

A loud crash came from downstairs.

Someone had broken through the building's entrance.

Footsteps began climbing the stairs.

Slowly.

Deliberately.

Victoria's voice drifted through the hallway.

"Damien, darling. You should have stayed buried."

Damien moved in front of Isabella.

His eyes darkened, and the veins beneath his skin began turning black.

For the first time, Isabella saw what he had been hiding.

Not the handsome man she'd met in the bar.

Not the mysterious stranger who made her heart race.

But something that had crawled back from death itself.

Something powerful.

Something terrifying.

And something that looked ready to kill to keep her alive.

END OF CHAPTER TWO