A night to remember

A Night to Remember (Opening)

Chapter One: The Arrival

Elena Winters stepped out of the car and onto the slick cobblestone driveway, her heels clicking in the crisp evening air. The mountain resort, nestled in the quiet isolation of the northern peaks, seemed more like an ancient castle than a modern getaway. Its towering spires were barely visible through the thickening mist, and the lights flickered from within, casting long shadows across the grounds. A chill ran through her, not from the cold but from a feeling of unease that settled deep in her bones.

The past few months had been a whirlwind—sales at the gallery, clients with impossible demands, and her increasingly lonely life in the city. Elena had needed to get away, to rediscover herself, to escape the memories that had haunted her for too long. The resort had been an impulse booking, one last-ditch attempt to clear her head.

A soft voice broke through her thoughts. “Ms. Winters?”

She turned to see a tall, slender man in a dark coat approaching, his face partially obscured by the shadows. He had a knowing smile, as if he had been expecting her. Elena didn’t like the way his eyes lingered on her, but she smiled politely, offering her hand.

“I’m Daniel. Welcome to the Ridgewood,” he said, his grip firm but not unkind. “I trust your journey was pleasant?”

“Pleasant enough,” Elena replied, scanning the area behind him. The resort was quiet, too quiet. There was an eerie stillness that seemed out of place.

He led her inside, the grand doors creaking open as they stepped into the massive lobby. Velvet drapes hung from the tall windows, their deep red fabric contrasting with the pale stone walls. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting a golden glow across the room. The reception desk stood to one side, unoccupied, which was odd for a place that looked so well-maintained.

“Your suite is ready,” Daniel said, gesturing to a grand staircase. “And dinner will be served at seven. I trust you’ll join us?”

“I’ll certainly be there,” Elena answered, a little more hesitant than she meant to be.

As they ascended the stairs, the atmosphere grew heavier, darker. The wood creaked under their footsteps, and the portraits hanging on the walls seemed to watch her as she passed. The feeling of being watched settled deeper into her chest, but she pushed it aside. It was just the isolation of the place playing tricks on her.

Chapter Two: The Stranger

That evening, after a long, solitary dinner, Elena retreated to the privacy of her room. It was spacious, luxurious—everything she needed to unwind. She stood by the window, staring out at the mist that had thickened into a downpour. The storm had arrived, as predicted. The world outside was a blur of rain and wind.

There was a knock at the door.

Elena hesitated. It was far too late for any routine maintenance. Cautiously, she approached the door, peeking through the peephole. Her breath caught. A man stood in the hallway, his face partially obscured by the shadows. He was tall, dark-haired, with broad shoulders that seemed too imposing for the peaceful atmosphere of the resort.

Her hand trembled as she reached for the doorknob, her heart racing. She opened the door a crack.

“Yes?” she asked, keeping her voice steady.

“I apologize for the intrusion,” the man said, his voice smooth but with a hint of something darker beneath. “I believe we’re both guests here. My name is Luke Carter.”

Elena’s pulse quickened. She had seen him before, at dinner. He had been seated at a table across the room, but there had been something about him—an intensity, a focus—that had drawn her attention. She didn’t know why, but she felt inexplicably drawn to him.

“I didn’t mean to disturb you,” he continued, “but I thought you might appreciate some company. It’s quite lonely up here, especially with the storm.”

The invitation hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. She considered it for a moment, then stepped aside, allowing him to enter.

Luke’s presence filled the room, and for a moment, Elena felt an unfamiliar warmth. He seemed to fill the space in a way that felt both comforting and unsettling. There was an air of mystery around him—something in his eyes, something hidden beneath the surface.

“I was hoping to get some air,” he said, moving toward the window. “The storm makes everything feel… alive, don’t you think?”

Elena didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she crossed the room and poured two glasses of wine. She handed one to him, her fingers brushing against his briefly. The contact was electric.

“You’re not like the others,” he said, turning back to her, his eyes sharp.

“Meaning?”

“You’re not afraid,” he replied, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Elena raised an eyebrow. “Afraid of what?”

He studied her for a long moment, his gaze deepening. “This place. The history.”

Elena’s heart skipped a beat. “What do you know about it?”

“More than I care to,” he answered cryptically.

Before she could press further, a sudden crash echoed from somewhere below, followed by a muffled scream. Elena’s blood ran cold.

Luke’s expression hardened. “We should go downstairs