The Velvet Room Conspiracy: Chapter Two
The Deeper You Go…The Higher the Fall
What if the truth leads you somewhere you’re not ready to go? In Chapter 2, Charlie dives into Bianca’s scattered clues, uncovering hints of secrets that may be too dangerous to face.
Keep reading to find out what happens next.
Charlie
For days, I’ve avoided this room, as if staying away could somehow erase Bianca being gone. Her presence is still everywhere: the faint sweetness of her vanilla candle lingers in the air, and her notebooks are scattered across the desk, overflowing with scribbles, arrows, and frantic underlines. They reflect her reckless intensity that sometimes scared me but ultimately defined her.
Now the room feels hollow, like a part of her is missing—and maybe it is.
“Keep the notes safe,” she pleaded, her voice heavy with fear. “If I don’t come back, burn them. Burn everything.”
Her words haunt me. Why couldn’t she ever be straightforward? Why did everything have to be a puzzle I was left to solve while she ran headfirst into danger? Her relentless pursuit of the truth always pulled her toward the edge, dragging me along whether I wanted to follow or not.
Determined to face the truth, I flip open the notebook she was clutching the night she left. Its worn pages are filled with frantic notes. With trembling fingers, I scan the scrawled entries until a name jumps out, circled and underlined in red ink:
Wesley Remington.
Wesley’s name doesn’t just appear once—it’s everywhere in her notes, tied to arrows, questions, and bold underlines. The fragments paint a disturbing picture: secret meetings, shady political deals, and money laundering.
Beneath it, in Bianca’s messy handwriting, are the words: The Velvet Room.
Bianca mentioned The Velvet Room once before she left. At the time, it sounded like nothing, just another one of her conspiracy theories. But now, seeing it in her notes, it feels more sinister. Maybe she was onto something.
I flip through the pages faster, my panic mounting. Then I see it: another name, circled in bold black ink and surrounded by frantic arrows:
Sullivan Gray. Exposed in 2018. Disappeared.
His name rings a distant bell, but I can’t place it.
As I sift through more of Bianca’s notes, fragmented details begin to emerge: a closed corruption case, a whistleblower silenced. Had Sullivan been digging too deeply into Wesley Remington’s dealings? Did Bianca find something he left behind? I stare at her chaotic scrawl: a name, a year, and one chilling word: threat.
Then, just as I think I’ve seen the worst, another line makes my heart stop:
Juliette works there.
Jules? My cousin Jules?
Jules had always been vague about her job, offering only cryptic hints about working for “some rich guy.” Once, she joked that her boss had her well-trained to be obedient and loyal. At the time, I thought it was just Jules being dramatic, a way to dismiss her job as unimportant.
Months ago, Bianca had teased Jules about her mysterious workplace during one of our rare nights out. Jules, unusually tipsy, laughed and said, “It’s where the powerful go to… fix their problems.” At the time, I dismissed it as a joke, but now it feels like a warning. Had Bianca known all along?
Thinking back, Jules always warned Bianca that her obsession with the truth would get her killed one day. Bianca never listened. Jules admired her for it, even when she pretended not to care. She thrived on danger, on the adrenaline rush of being one step ahead of whoever she was exposing.
I can still picture Bianca in action, standing on a street corner, her coat flaring in the wind as she cornered a city official outside a courthouse. She’d laugh at my worry, always brushing off the risks. “It’s worth it,” she’d say, her eyes alight with purpose. “Someone has to hold them accountable.”
Bianca wasn’t just chasing a lead—she was running straight into a storm she might not escape. My stomach twists when I see another line, simple but devastating:
Wesley was asking about you.
The words hit like a punch to the gut. Wesley Remington. Why would someone like him even know my name? Did she leave something out? Or am I too late to understand what she was trying to warn me about? I try to convince myself it’s nothing—just another name in Bianca’s messy web. But the unspoken possibility claws at my thoughts: if he knew about me, it wasn’t an accident.
My pulse pounds in my ears as I grab my phone and look up Wesley Remington. He’s a venture capitalist. CEO of R.W. Investment Group. His photo stares back at me: blond hair, piercing blue eyes, and a smile that doesn’t reach them. He looks like someone used to getting what he wants, no matter the cost.
I hate that I notice how attractive he is—his sharp jawline, the commanding presence he seems to exude even through a screen. But the more I read, the more his danger becomes clear. Beneath his charm and good looks, he’s tied to things no decent person would touch. Shady deals, cover-ups, and secrets. I feel a pull I can’t explain, but I remind myself: he’s dangerous, and whatever Bianca found on him could be the reason she’s gone.
My urge to flee is overwhelming. Burn the notes. Grab my keys. Leave this all behind. But escape feels impossible. If Wesley already knows my name, running won’t save me—and staying might lead me straight into the storm Bianca left behind.
I type the text with shaking fingers:
We need to talk. It’s about Bianca.
I hesitate, my thumb hovering over “send.” Jules will resist. She’ll warn me to stay out of this.
But I wasn’t going to stop—not until I uncovered the truth about Bianca, even if it led me straight into the heart of The Velvet Room.
How far would you go to uncover the truth if it meant risking everything—and everyone—you care about? Share your thoughts in the comments.
Ready for More? Start Reading Chapter 3!
© 2024 Scarlett Witherspoon. All rights reserved. This story is protected under copyright law.