The Ravenclaw Legacy

Annabelle stood at the threshold of the run-down apartment, her eyes wide with horror at the scene before her.

A bloodied man lay sprawled across the torn sofa, his body shoved against one wall.

It was clear, even from this distance… he was dead.

Instinct kicked in when she heard a faint police siren in the distance. Her eyes scanned the room, taking in the debris scattered by a frantic search.

Her gaze settled on the edge of a card, tucked beneath her brother’s limp hand.

She rushed across the room, her heart hammering in her chest. She grabbed the card, her gaze lingering on her brother’s face for a moment.

“Oh, Timothy. What trouble did you get yourself into?” she whispered. Her hand hovered in the air for a second beside his cheek, before she retreated, fleeing the apartment.

Only once she was back in her car did she look at the card.

Black, gold-trimmed, with the words The Velvet Room.

She frowned, reached for her phone, and searched for it on the GPS.

“Okay, Timothy. Let’s see who knows why I just discovered my own brother murdered in his apartment.”

She turned the key in the ignition.

*

Half an hour later, Annabelle stood in front of the closed glass doors. She looked up at the name engraved above the entrance, then straightened her shoulders and tested one of the doors. Relief eased the tension when it opened.

“Hello?” she called as she stepped into the small foyer.

“Hello?” she called again, moving deeper into the dark nightclub.

“Hey!”

A tall man behind the bar turned, setting down a glass on the heavy, gleaming oak surface. The red bar light behind him cast flickering highlights through his dirty-blond hair.

“What’s your poison?”

She stopped. “Poison? Aren’t you closed?”

“You walked in, didn’t you?”

She blinked and shrugged. “Yes, I did.”

She walked to the bar. “A cosmopolitan, please.”

The man raised an eyebrow, his blue eyes drifting over her approvingly.

“Perfect! One cosmopolitan for the pretty lady,” he said with a smile.

“Thanks.”

She slipped onto one of the bar stools, not noticing the nod he gave the shadow in the corner.

A glass was slid in front of her. “I wanted to ask—”

Her words were cut off as a big, black ledger was dropped next to her glass, spilling half its contents.

“The ledger, as agreed. Now fuck off.”

Startled, she slid off the stool, stumbling several steps back. “I’m sorry? What?”

She stared at the man who had appeared. He was tall, dark-haired, and broad-shouldered, and looked like someone had stolen his breakfast.

He tapped his black-gloved fingers against the ledger.

“The ledger. Take it and go,” he repeated.

“Ledger? I don’t want a ledger. Look—”

She was cut off again as the dark-haired man drew a gun and shoved it in her face. Annabelle instinctively reached for the card in her coat pocket.

The dark-haired man holding the gun grabbed the card, his dark eyes flicking over it before he tossed it onto the bar.

“You’re at the right place. You gave the password. We’ve given you the ledger. Why are you still here?”

The gun was still pointed at her face. Her eyes darted to the ledger, then back to him.

“You’re absolutely right,” she said with a smile, shifting away from the barrel aimed at her before moving quickly back to the bar.

She grabbed the ledger and headed for the exit.

She didn’t miss the grinning guy leaning against the wall beside the steps separating the main floor from the foyer. He seemed much too amused, and she was almost tempted to ask what was so funny.

*

Troy Castro whistled as he watched the woman disappear from view, admiring her long black hair swaying and the way her body moved. The fabric of her skirt stretched as she walked, drawing his eyes down the length of her legs.

“She’s pretty.” He grinned, running a hand through his messy dark hair as he turned. His smile faded when he caught the scowl on his oldest brother’s face.

“Did anyone else find that odd?” Dante Castro asked, returning his gun to the holster beneath his jacket.

“Odd? Yeah, she didn’t even drink her cosmo,” Sebastian Castro huffed, wiping the counter as he drained the abandoned cosmopolitan.

“No, I meant that she seemed confused about the ledger,” Dante said, tugging a glove free.

“Nah, she was maybe just checking she was in the right place. Dom did say he was sending a lady. And she was def a lady.” Troy whistled again. “Did you see those curves?” He traced a woman’s curves in the air with his hands as he came closer.

“And she said the password.” Sebastian nodded.

Dante looked back at the door, slapping the glove he’d removed against his still-gloved palm.

“Then why do I feel… we just made a very big mistake?”

*

For the past ten minutes, Annabelle had stared at the black ledger on the passenger seat beside her. She had walked into that nightclub in broad daylight, thinking she would casually ask who knew her brother and who had killed him.

Instead, she had been handed a ledger and dismissed.

No, a gun had been pointed at her, and she had been ordered to go.

She should just walk back in there and smack the stoic jerk in the face with the ledger.

She didn’t even know why she had taken it in the first place.

Another minute passed before she grabbed it and opened it.

Her heart stopped.

On top lay a document with her brother’s photograph attached.

It listed everything about her brother. His address. His birthdate.

She checked the rest of the documents and lifted a copy of his birth certificate.

Then she found a letter from the orphanage where they had grown up. It stated that he had a sister.

She read quickly. But her name wasn’t mentioned, and she sank back into her seat in relief.

This wasn’t a ledger. It was a dossier on her brother.

It hadn’t even been an hour since she’d discovered her brother’s body.

Grief had not even formed. Her hands tightened around the ledger.

And being calm and rational was not in her current emotional range.

*

Dante checked his watch fifteen minutes later.

“You should call Dom to see if the ledger has been delivered,” he said, nodding to Troy, who was spinning on a bar stool.

“Nah, he said he would drop a call once it crosses his desk. Patience, big bro.”

Dante frowned. He still felt unsettled.

Sebastian tapped the bar counter next to a glass filled to the brim with a dark liquid.

“Drink. Relax.”

Dante moved toward the bar and picked up the glass. He lifted it to his lips, only to spill its contents as the shattering of glass echoed through the silent nightclub.

*

The sheer force of her rage-fueled kick shattered the glass door. She stormed back in, only to stop abruptly on the top step as three guns swung toward her.

“Okay! Which one of you killed my brother?”

***

Chapter Song: River - Bishop Briggs.

Check out The Ravenclaw Legacy Playlist on Spotify.