Page 16 of Johan. (Van Den Bosch #8)

Hannah

The evening of Astrid and Johan’s engagement party arrives with a golden sunset casting long shadows across the campus.

I sit on the edge of my bed, staring at the dress I picked out a week ago before my relationship with Johan became so entangled.

It’s a beautiful dress, a deep emerald green that complements my eyes and brings out the auburn highlights in my hair.

I chose it because it made me feel confident and beautiful, but now, as I think about seeing Johan with Astrid, I wonder if it will be enough to shield me from the pain I know is coming.

The chill in the air reminds me that it’s late November, and I wrap a warm shawl around my shoulders.

Beneath the shawl that I’ll be wearing lies a small backpack for my mission tonight.

I take a deep breath, push the thoughts away, and start getting ready.

My hands are steady as I apply my makeup, a mask to hide the emotions roiling beneath the surface.

I curl my hair into loose waves, letting it fall naturally around my shoulders.

When I finally slip into the dress, it feels like putting on armor, a last line of defense against the hurt I’m about to face.

Just as I’m finishing up, there’s a knock on the door.

I open it to find Conrad standing there, looking impossibly handsome in a tailored navy suit that highlights his broad shoulders and lean frame.

His dark hair is perfectly styled, and his olive skin glows in the soft hallway light.

His brown eyes light up when he sees me.

“Hannah, you look stunning,” he says, his voice warm and sincere, a hint of admiration shining in his eyes.

“Thanks. You clean up pretty well yourself,” I reply, trying to muster a smile, my voice softer than usual.

He offers me his arm, and I take it, grateful for his steady presence.

Together, we make our way out of the dorm and to the waiting car.

The drive to Goschen Hall is filled with light conversation, but my mind keeps drifting back to Johan.

I wonder how he’s feeling and if he’s as conflicted as I am.

When we arrive, Goschen Hall is breathtaking. The sprawling estate has manicured gardens and a grand facade that speaks of old money and tradition. The driveway is lined with cars, and I can see guests milling about, their laughter and chatter a stark contrast to the anxiety tightening in my chest.

Conrad helps me out of the car, his hand warm and reassuring in mine.

We walk up the steps to the entrance, where a liveried footman opens the door for us.

Inside, the hall is even more impressive, with high ceilings, crystal chandeliers, and walls adorned with portraits of Astrid’s ancestors.

The opulence is overwhelming, a reminder of the world Johan is being forced into.

As we move through the crowd, I catch sight of Astrid and Johan standing near the center of the room, greeting guests.

Astrid looks radiant in a silver gown that clings to her curves and sparkles in the light.

Her blonde hair is styled in an elegant updo, and atop her head rests a delicate tiara, subtly signaling her status above everyone else.

Her smile is wide and confident. Johan, beside her, is the picture of calm in a classic black tuxedo, but I can see the tension in his eyes, the way his smile doesn’t quite reach them.

My heart aches at the sight. Conrad gently squeezes my hand, and I realize I’ve been gripping his arm tightly.

“You okay?” he asks quietly, furrowing his brow.

“I’ll be fine,” I whisper back, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes. “Let’s go say hello.”

We make our way over to Astrid and Johan. Astrid’s eyes light up when she sees us, and she steps forward, pulling me into a hug.

“Hannah! I’m so glad you could make it,” she exclaims, her voice bright and cheerful, her smile genuine.

“Thank you for having me, Astrid. Everything looks so beautiful,” I reply, trying to keep my voice steady though it trembles slightly.

She turns to Conrad, greeting him with the same warmth, before stepping back to stand beside Johan. My eyes lock with his, and for a moment, everything else fades away. There’s a flicker of something in his gaze, something that tells me he’s just as trapped as I feel.

“Congratulations, Johan,” I manage to say, my voice barely above a whisper, laced with hidden emotion.

“Thank you, Hannah,” he replies, his voice equally soft, his eyes reflecting a mix of sadness and resolve. There’s a world of unspoken words in that simple exchange, but neither of us can say them here.

Astrid launches into a conversation with another guest, and I take the opportunity to step away, needing a moment to collect myself. Conrad follows, his hand still on mine, his grip firm and reassuring.

“Do you want to get some air?” he asks gently, his tone full of understanding.

I nod, grateful for his sensitivity. We slip out onto the terrace, where the cool evening air provides a welcome respite from the stifling atmosphere inside. The gardens are beautifully lit, and the scent of flowers fills the air. It should be romantic, but all I feel is a crushing sense of loss.

Conrad stands beside me, silent but supportive. He doesn’t push me to talk, giving me the space I need. After a few minutes, I turn to him, my eyes misty with unshed tears.

“Thank you, Conrad. For everything,” I say, my voice trembling with emotion.

“You don’t have to thank me, Hannah. I’m here for you, whatever you need,” he replies, his gaze steady and unwavering.

I nod, taking a deep breath. “I just need to get through tonight.”

He nods, understanding without needing more words. Together, we return to the party, ready to face whatever comes next.

The night stretches on, filled with laughter and celebration, but beneath it all, there’s an undercurrent of tension, a sense that things aren’t as perfect as they seem.

As I watch Johan and Astrid together, I can’t help but hope that somehow, against all odds, our love will find a way to prevail.

As the evening progresses, I know I have a mission to complete.

I glance around, searching for the right moment.

Finally, I see Ludovic approaching Astrid and Johan.

This is my cue. It’s Johan’s job to keep him entertained.

My heart races as I slip away, making my way towards the staircase.

Each step feels heavy, laden with the weight of my mission.

Ludovic’s office is upstairs, and I need to find Amelia’s research file.

The hallways are quieter here, the distant murmur of the party fading as I approach the door to Ludovic’s office.

I take a deep breath, pausing for a moment and glancing around to make sure I wasn’t being followed, then carefully turn the handle and slip inside.

The room is dimly lit, filled with rich mahogany furniture and the scent of leather-bound books.

Closing the door behind me, I let my eyes adjust to the dim light, taking in the opulent surroundings.

There are heavy velvet drapes on the windows, a large mahogany desk strewn with papers, and bookshelves lining the walls, filled with leather-bound volumes that look as old as the house itself.

The soft glow from a brass lamp on the desk casts long shadows across the room, adding to the atmosphere of secrecy and history.

I move towards a bookshelf, running my fingers over the spines, looking for anything out of place.

The air smells faintly of old books and polished wood, a comforting yet intimidating scent.

My heart pounds in my chest, the seconds ticking by agonizingly slowly.

I scan the titles, my fingers brushing against the leather bindings, looking for something that stands out.

Suddenly, I hear footsteps approaching. Panic grips me, and I dart behind a long curtain, pressing myself against the wall, hoping the heavy fabric will hide me.

The door creaks open, and someone enters.

I peer through a small gap in the curtain, watching as he moves towards the bookshelf.

He reaches up and takes down a book. Just like Amelia told me, when he lifts the hardcover, there are no pages but a container with something inside.

It’s a secret box. My breath catches as I see him take out a small velvet bag from inside it.

He then closes the book and puts it back on the shelves.

Then he quickly leaves the room, and I wait a few moments before stepping out from my hiding place, my heart still racing.

I move to the shelf where the man had been, my eyes scanning the hardbacks.

They all look like ordinary books, but I focus on the biggest one, an encyclopedia.

I carefully pull it from the shelf and open it.

Inside, I find a file with Amelia’s name on it.

I open it and see pictures of her at an excavation in the desert, including maps, correspondence and reports.

This is it! My heart races as I realize I’ve found what I was looking for.

I close the dossier and tuck it into my backpack, which I had hidden under my shawl.

I replace the encyclopedia on the shelf and make my way back downstairs, my mind racing with the implications of what I’ve found.

As I rejoin the crowd, I hear Ludovic’s voice carrying above the murmur of conversation.

He’s making a toast in honor of Astrid and Johan.

I watch as they stand beside him, smiles plastered on their faces.

Ludovic and everyone else are holding flutes of champagne, and he raises his glass to the crowd.

“We always knew Johan was the right partner for Astrid,” Ludovic says, his voice booming with confidence and pride. “Ever since my daughter told us about their torrid summer two years ago, it was just a matter of time.”

“Dad!” Astrid snaps in embarrassment, causing everyone to laugh.