Page 58 of Thorns of Death
I pulled it out and held my breath as I read the names. It was my birth certificate. Isla Louisa Cortes Konstantin, born to Louisa Maria Cortes and Sergei Illias Konstantin. I wasn’t even Isla Evans, but then I wasn’t exactly surprised at this point.
My heart thundered as I stared at the documents, wondering why Illias would keep something so important from me. There had to be a reason; people didn’t keep secrets just for the hell of it. Trepidation flickered to life in my heart, but I refused to let it hold me back. I’d have to uncover who my mother was. Who these people were! I had the right to know.
Hoping for more answers, I checked the secret compartment. There was nothing else there.
I started opening the drawers one by one again, searching for secret compartments there. Three hours of going through every file cabinet and drawer passed.
Nothing. Zilch. Nada.
Frustration bubbled inside me.
It was as if Illias knew I’d be snooping around and cleaned out his desk. There was hardly anything in there. I didn’t know much about running a business, but I would have expected at least some paperwork of significance to be in his office.
Instead, all I found was paperless bullshit. A hard drive that I couldn’t hack into. A laptop I couldn’t unlock.
Fuck paperless. I needed evidence on a damn piece of paper. I was old-fashioned like that.
My phone buzzed again and I remembered the group chat. Shit. I crawled under the desk to grab it and shook my head with disbelief. One hundred and fifty messages!
Clearly my friends needed lives.
Voices echoed through the castle and I froze. The guards that were here had all been sticking to the outside.
“They’ll be here soon,” I heard Boris say.
I froze.
For a moment, I even stopped breathing. Fuck! Wherever Boris was, my brother was. That got me moving. My fingers trembled as I rushed to put everything back to the way it was. I shoved the thin folder back into its secret compartment, then scrambled to figure out how to close it.
“Come on,” I whispered, skimming my hand over the surface looking for the stupid button. My heart drummed so hard, I couldn’t hear anything else aside from the adrenaline buzzing in my ears.
I kept swiping across the general area until I felt the small indent again. I pushed it and an electric buzzing sound filled the air. It sounded like a damn earthquake in the silence of the office. My eyes darted to the door, holding my breath.
Click.The compartment closed and a soft swish of air left my lungs.
Grabbing my phone and tucking it safely into the back pocket of my jeans, I let my eyes sweep across the room one last time to ensure there was no evidence of me ever being here. I tiptoed to the door, then pressed my ear to it. I couldn’t hear anything. No footsteps. No voices.
Bringing my hand to the handle, I held my breath as I pushed it down and waited. Nothing happened. I peered through the small crack of the door, and seeing that the coast was clear, I squeezed through and shut it softly behind me.
I rushed through the hallways and to the front of the house where I stopped dead in my tracks. My brother stood at the door, in his arms—bridal style—a woman with blonde hair wearing a man’s coat. She tipped her head back to admire the mosaics painted on our ceilings, her gaze curiously studying our home.
“Vaulted ceilings have nothing on this,” I heard her say, but all I could see was my brother watching the woman in his arms with a vulnerable look in his eyes I could never remember seeing before. There was such feral longing in his gaze that for a moment, I was unable to look away.
Holy fucking shit!
My brother was in-freaking-love. There was no mistaking it. It was plain as day.
I squealed so loud, it shattered the air and startled both my brother and his woman. My eyes darted between them, lingering more so on the blonde woman, curious how she’d gotten him so smitten.
“Isla, what are you doing here?” Surprise was evident in my brother’s voice as he studied me under furrowed brows. I noted he never put the woman down. “I thought you were in Paris, attending your friend’s fashion show.”
My cheeks flushed remembering what happened the night of the fashion show. It didn’t matter that it was a few weeks back, the memories were still fresh.
“That was last week,” I muttered. Or a few weeks before it. No matter, it wouldn’t make a difference to Illias. It was a small white lie. Despite Illias’s ownership of many shopping malls, he showed no interest in fashion, so he wouldn’t be able to know I was fibbing a bit. My eyes darted to the blonde beauty in his arms. The stark difference between them was evident. The paleness of her hair and blue eyes was contrasted by my brother’s dark hair and even darker eyes. “If you want me to go, I can leave though,” I half-teased.
With my brother back, it’d be hard to snoop around. Not that I’d had much success so far. Except for the birth certificate that possibly belonged to my mother… and my own.
My brother’s gaze softened on me, and I couldn’t help a warm smile slip through. Illias was always the more serious brother. Maxim and Illias were twins, but apart from their looks, they were nothing alike. Illias was always the stronger one. He took care of Maxim, and when I came around, he took care of me.
