Darkness

The ballroom vanished.

One moment, crystal chandeliers blazed overhead.

The next, darkness swallowed everything.

Gasps erupted throughout the room.

Someone screamed.

A glass shattered somewhere in the distance.

For a brief second, nobody moved.

The sudden darkness had frozen everyone in place.

Including Adrian.

His eyes searched the blackness instinctively, but it was useless.

There was nothing to see.

Only darkness.

And the memory of pale blue eyes staring directly into his.

"You're not supposed to meet me until the day you die."

The words echoed inside his head.

What kind of thing was that to say?

Who was she?

And why had she looked so terrified when she said it?

Around him, the crowd finally began to react.

Voices rose from every direction.

"What's happening?"

"Did the power fail?"

"Someone call security!"

The once-perfect silence shattered into chaos.

Yet Adrian barely heard any of it.

His attention remained fixed on the spot where the woman had been standing.

Just a few feet away.

Close enough to touch.

Close enough to ask questions.

Questions he desperately needed answered.

The emergency lights flickered.

A faint red glow appeared along the walls.

Not enough to illuminate the ballroom completely.

But enough to reveal shapes and movement.

Adrian immediately looked toward the woman.

His stomach dropped.

She was gone.

The space where she had been standing was empty.

People pushed past one another in confusion, but there was no sign of her.

No black dress.

No dark hair.

Nothing.

It was as if she had vanished.

A sharp feeling of disappointment struck him unexpectedly.

It annoyed him.

He wasn't supposed to care.

He didn't know her.

Yet every instinct screamed that letting her disappear was a mistake.

The lights flickered again.

This time the red glow strengthened slightly.

Guests began pulling out their phones.

Tiny screens illuminated anxious faces.

Security personnel moved quickly through the crowd.

Adrian ignored all of them.

His gaze swept across the ballroom.

Searching.

Looking for any sign of her.

Nothing.

She had disappeared completely.

"Mr. Voss."

A voice interrupted his thoughts.

He turned.

Marcus Hale, his head of security, was already pushing through the crowd toward him.

Tall and broad-shouldered, Marcus looked irritated more than concerned.

Which was unusual.

Marcus rarely allowed emotions to show.

"Are you alright?"

Adrian nodded.

"What happened?"

"We're checking."

Marcus glanced toward the ceiling.

"Looks like a power outage."

"No."

Marcus frowned.

Adrian turned toward the painting.

The massive artwork still stood beneath the spotlight platform.

Or rather, where the spotlight had been.

Even in the dim emergency lighting, the image remained visible.

The coffin.

The lilies.

The rain.

His name.

Something about it made his skin crawl.

"This wasn't an accident."

Marcus followed his gaze.

"You think it's related?"

Adrian didn't answer immediately.

His eyes moved across the crowd again.

Still searching.

Still hoping to catch sight of pale blue eyes.

Nothing.

Finally, he spoke.

"Find the artist."

Marcus blinked.

"The artist?"

"The person who painted that."

Marcus looked toward the artwork.

Then back at Adrian.

"Understood."

Without another word, he disappeared into the crowd.

Adrian remained where he was.

The ballroom was slowly returning to life.

Guests were already talking again.

Some appeared frightened.

Others seemed excited.

A scandal was unfolding.

And wealthy people loved scandals.

Several people glanced toward Adrian before quickly looking away.

As though they weren't sure whether it was appropriate to stare at a man attending his own funeral.

The thought almost made him laugh.

Almost.

Instead, his gaze drifted once more toward the painting.

The date stared back at him.

Only a year away.

Ridiculous.

He didn't believe in prophecies.

Didn't believe in destiny.

The future wasn't something that happened to people.

It was something people created.

That philosophy had built his entire life.

Yet tonight had shaken something inside him.

Not because of the painting.

Because of her.

The woman had reacted before seeing him.

As if his presence alone had changed something.

As if he wasn't supposed to be there.

The memory refused to leave him.

Adrian exhaled slowly.

For the first time in years, he felt uncertain.

And he hated it.

A movement near the far end of the ballroom caught his attention.

Dark hair.

A black dress.

His heartbeat immediately quickened.

Without thinking, he started walking.

The crowd parted automatically.

He moved faster this time.

Ignoring curious looks.

Ignoring whispered conversations.

Ignoring everything except the figure disappearing through an open doorway.

By the time he reached it, the woman was gone.

The corridor beyond was empty.

Silent.

A long stretch of polished marble illuminated by emergency lighting.

No footsteps.

No voices.

No sign that anyone had been there at all.

Adrian stopped.

His jaw tightened.

He was being ridiculous.

Chasing a stranger through hallways because of a few cryptic sentences.

Yet something deep inside him refused to let the matter go.

The woman knew something.

He was certain of it.

And for reasons he couldn't explain, he felt that finding her had suddenly become more important than understanding the painting itself.

A soft sound interrupted his thoughts.

He froze.

Someone was standing at the far end of the corridor.

A silhouette.

Motionless.

Watching him.

The emergency lights were too dim to reveal a face.

Only a figure.

For several seconds neither moved.

Then the figure turned.

And walked around the corner.

Adrian immediately followed.

His footsteps echoed through the corridor.

Fast.

Controlled.

Determined.

He reached the corner seconds later.

And stopped.

The hallway beyond was empty.

Completely empty.

No doors opening.

No footsteps fading into the distance.

Nothing.

The figure had vanished.

A strange chill passed through him.

For the first time that evening, Adrian felt genuinely unsettled.

Not frightened.

Just aware that something wasn't right.

Something he couldn't yet understand.

His phone vibrated suddenly inside his pocket.

The sound felt unusually loud in the silence.

Adrian pulled it out.

A message.

Unknown number.

Only four words.

His heartbeat slowed.

Then stopped.

Because he recognized them immediately.

The message read:

You came too early.

Adrian stared at the screen.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

The words didn't change.

Slowly, he looked up.

The corridor remained empty.

Silent.

Waiting.

And somewhere in Blackwood Estate, a woman with pale blue eyes knew exactly what those words meant.

The question was—

Why did it feel like she wasn't the one who sent them?

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