The Velvet Room Conspiracy: Chapter Three
The Truth According to Jules
What if the truth takes you somewhere you can’t come back from? In Chapter 3, Charlie seeks to uncover what’s real from the person she’s supposed to trust the most. Or can she?
Keep reading to find out what happens next.
Charlie
The clatter of dishes and conversation fills the diner, blending with the greasy smell of stale coffee. It turns my stomach, but it’s better than sitting alone in silence.
Jules walks in right on time, her sharp eyes scanning the room. When they land on me, she hesitates, like she’s deciding whether to leave or come over. Her dark red hair is tied back, and the dark circles under her eyes are more pronounced than I’ve ever seen. She doesn’t speak as she slides into the booth, her jaw tight, her gaze sharp enough to cut.
I tense, bracing myself for the cold edge of her words. Jules never gives more than she has to, and tonight, she looks like someone with nothing left to give. But I can’t back down. Not when Bianca’s life might depend on it.
“Thanks for coming,” I say, trying to sound composed. “I didn’t know who else to ask.”
Jules doesn’t bother with pleasantries. “I don’t have time for small talk, Charlie.” Her tone is clipped, dismissive, like she’s already regretting sitting down.
I bite back the sting of her words. This isn’t about me or my feelings—it’s about Bianca. Still, the sharpness in her tone makes my hands itch to fidget. Jules has always had that effect on me, like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff waiting for her to shove me off.
I swallow hard, determined to push past her wall. “Bianca is missing.”
Her expression doesn’t change, but something flickers in her eyes—a momentary recognition that vanishes as quickly as it came.
I latch onto it, my chest tightening. She knows something. I don’t know what, but it’s enough to make her hesitate. Is she afraid for Bianca? Or for herself?
“How long?”
“Four days. Maybe five,” I admit, my voice faltering. I hate how unsteady I sound. “I’ve only got scraps of her notes and… I just know something happened to her.”
My words hang there, too light to carry the weight of what I feel. But how do I explain the gnawing in my gut, the way my heart stumbles every time I think of Bianca’s name? I can’t. And I don’t think Jules would care even if I could.
Jules leans back in her seat, her fingers drumming softly against her arm. Finally, she sighs, her voice low and steady. “The Velvet Room… it’s not just some high-end escape. It’s a cover—for people with money and influence. The kind of people who don’t leave loose ends.”
Her words send a chill down my spine. “What do you mean? People like Wesley?”
Jules freezes, her fingers halting mid-tap. When I say his name, something flickers in her eyes—fear, maybe. It’s quick, but it’s there, before she looks away.
It’s subtle, but I catch it—the slightest hitch in her breathing, the shift in her posture. She’s afraid. Of him? Or of what I’m about to do? Maybe both.
“Don’t say his name,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. “Not here. Not anywhere.”
My stomach knots, and frustration bubbles over. “Why? Who is he, Jules? How do you know him?”
Her lips press into a hard line. “I’m not talking about this.”
Of course, she’s not. Jules is always like this—guarded, withholding, like the truth is hers to protect. But I’m not backing down. Not this time.
“It is my business! If I’m walking into his world, I need to know!”
She glares at me, her voice cold and final. “You don’t need to know anything except how to stay out of his way.”
Her words hit like a slap. I’m so tired of everyone telling me to stay out of things, to stay in my lane, to let it go. But I don’t say any of that. I can’t. Not to her.
I lean back, my hands gripping the edge of the booth. Jules’s reluctance isn’t new, but tonight, it feels heavier. Like she isn’t just hiding something—she’s protecting it. And if I push too hard, I might never get what I need.
“I need to get in,” I say instead, quieter now. “Bianca’s the closest thing I have to family. If it were me missing, she wouldn’t hesitate to tear the world apart to find me.”
My voice wavers on the last words, and for a moment, I hate myself for it. But it’s true—she wouldn’t give up on me. And I can’t give up on her.
Jules studies me for a long moment, her fingers resuming their restless tapping. Finally, she exhales sharply. “I’ll help you. But only if you do exactly what I say.”
My heart races, relief and unease crashing together. This is it. I nod, trying to steady myself. “Whatever it takes.”
“Don’t wear blue—it’s too noticeable. Tie your hair back, neat and simple,” she says, her tone all business now.
Blue? Not red or gold—colors that practically scream for attention—but blue? The choice is so specific it almost feels like a code. Something only Jules would understand. It nags at me, but I let it go. I’ll have to trust her on this.
“And don’t use your real name,” Jules continues, snapping me back to the moment. “Pretend to be someone else—an heiress, maybe. British, if you can fake it. Make it convincing.”
I nod again, though unease twists in my chest. Every detail feels like a trap waiting to spring, like a game I don’t know the rules to.
“And the jewelry,” she adds. “It has to be real. They’ll notice if it’s fake.”
I hesitate, my voice softening. “Why are you helping me, Jules? Why not just tell me to stay out of it?”
Her lips press into a thin line, and she looks away. “Because if I don’t, you’ll get yourself killed.”
Her bluntness leaves me momentarily stunned. It isn’t pity, and it certainly isn’t kindness. It’s survival—hers or mine, I’m not sure.
“Stay off Wesley’s radar,” she says, her voice quieter now. “Don’t look for him. Don’t even look at him.”
Don’t even look at him. How can I promise that? Curiosity already itches in the back of my mind, daring me to steal a glance. But if that’s what it takes to get Jules to help me, I’ll have to agree. I’ll have to fight every instinct to satisfy my curiosity.
“Have you heard anything about Bianca?” I ask after a moment, desperation creeping in. “She said this place was the key to stopping all of it—the corruption, the power games, everything.”
Jules freezes, her gaze flickering for just a second before she schools her expression. “She was wrong.” Her voice is steady, but there’s something darker beneath it. “The Velvet Room doesn’t stop anything—it feeds it. And the people who go looking for keys in that place?” She shakes her head slowly, her tone dropping to a whisper. “They end up locked away instead.”
Her words linger, heavy and cold. The Velvet Room isn’t just dangerous—it’s a trap. But what kind of trap? And who built it? Bianca must have known something. Something she thought was worth the risk. And if she thought it was worth it, how can I walk away?
“I’ll get you on a list,” she says after a moment. “Give me your fake name, and I’ll make sure you can get in. If you can follow behind someone and avoid saying your name entirely, even better.”
Without waiting for a response, she stands abruptly, the booth creaking under her sudden movement. For a moment, she hovers there, her gaze hard. “If you mess this up, Charlie, they won’t just bury you—they’ll bury me too. And no one will care.”
Her words land heavy, and for a moment, I can’t respond. As her silhouette disappears into the night, a chilling thought grips me: Does Jules know where Bianca is?
She knows something—of that I’m sure. But whether she’s protecting Bianca, herself, or both, I can’t tell. And the more I think about it, the more I wonder if I’ve made the wrong choice trusting her.
Whatever Jules is hiding, it’s big enough to scare her. And if it could scare Jules, what chance did Bianca—or I—have of making it out alive?
But it doesn’t matter. I’ve already made my choice. Whatever is waiting for me in the Velvet Room, I’ll face it. For Bianca. For the truth.
Craving More?
Unlock exclusive content with a premium subscription! Gain access to this chapter’s bonus scene and dive deeper into the story.
Charlie
I stand before the mirror, barely recognizing the reflection staring back at me. The tall, full-length mirror rests against the wall of the apartment I share with Bianca—or used to. Its gilded frame is tarnished and scratched, but it’s hers. She picked it out at a thrift shop, insisting it made the space feel bigger. Now, it feels like a relic of her, a faint presence in a room she hasn’t stepped into for weeks.
The elegant black dress Jules chose clings perfectly, accentuating the figure of someone confident, wealthy, and untouchable. Someone I’m not. My brown hair, swept into an intricate updo, looks lighter in the soft glow of the room. Fake diamond earrings catch the light, and the bracelet on my wrist feels heavier than it should, as if it knows it’s counterfeit. Just like me.
“You’re sure about this?” Jules asks, her voice sharp as she adjusts a stray curl. Her eyes flick toward the desk behind me, where notebooks and loose papers form a chaotic map of my investigation. “The Velvet Room isn’t ordinary. People there can sense an outsider a mile away.”
“I don’t have a choice,” I say, trying to sound more certain than I feel. “Bianca was onto something big before she went missing. I have to retrace her steps.”
Jules sighs and moves to sit on the edge of my bed, her gaze darting to the notebooks again. “I know you’re determined, but this place is different. The people there play by their own rules, and if they figure out who you really are…”
I meet her gaze in the mirror, forcing a confidence I don’t feel. “I’ve practiced the accent, the backstory. I’ll be Charlotte Winslow, British heiress and aspiring romance novelist. No one will suspect a thing.”
Her expression hardens. “Stay far away from Wesley Remington. You don’t want to end up on his radar.”
I almost roll my eyes but catch myself. “He can’t possibly notice every patron in the place.”
“Just be careful,” she says, her voice softening. “This is about finding Bianca. Don’t get distracted, and don’t stay longer than you have to.”
I grab the black journal from the dresser, its familiar weight grounding me. Inside are the notes I’ve spent weeks preparing, every entry coded as if it were part of a romance novel. Wesley Remington is the King, a man whose power is whispered about in certain circles. The others I might encounter have aliases too, their identities hidden like mine.
Jules’s gaze follows the journal as I tuck it into my bag. “Charlie, you need to get rid of the rest of these,” she says, gesturing toward the notebooks. “If anyone finds them, it’s over.”
“They’re coded,” I reply, smoothing the dress over my hips. “No one would make sense of them.”
“That’s not the point,” she snaps, slamming one of the notebooks shut. “What if someone gets curious? Or worse, what if they already know you’re snooping?”
“I need them,” I say firmly, turning to face her. “Every name, connection, location—it’s the only way I’ll figure out what happened to Bianca.”
Jules leans against the desk, her tone softening. “I get why you’re doing this, but Bianca wouldn’t want you putting yourself in danger. You don’t even know if—”
“Don’t.” My voice hardens, cutting her off. “Don’t say it. Bianca’s out there. She didn’t just disappear for no reason.”
Jules exhales slowly, running a hand through her hair. “Fine. But if you’re going to do this, be smarter. Shred these, or at least hide them. And promise me you’ll stay away from Wesley Remington.”
“I know,” I say, my tone clipped. “Stay away from him. Don’t get noticed. I’ve heard it all before.”
Jules watches me for a moment longer before shaking her head. “Just… be careful. And don’t end up like Bianca. I won’t be able to help you.”
The door clicks shut behind her, leaving me alone with the faint scent of Bianca’s perfume lingering in the air. It’s subtle now, almost faded, but it still feels like a part of her is here, watching. Waiting. I can’t let Jules’s paranoia hold me back. I need to find the truth.
The notebooks stare back at me from the desk, a chaotic lifeline I can’t abandon. I run my fingers over the leather cover of my journal, exhaling slowly. No one will find these. It’s impossible. They’re the only thing connecting me to her now. They’re my proof that I won’t fail her.
What do you think about Charlie’s cousin Jules? Is she hiding something or simply trying to protect Charlie? Share your thoughts in the comments.
Ready For More? Start Reading Chapter 4!
© 2024 Scarlett Witherspoon. All rights reserved. This story is protected under copyright law.