Emilia
I've always been the kind of person who prided herself on her ability to keep a level head, to see things for what they are and not get swept up in unnecessary drama. But nothing in this house is as it seems. Every moment I spend here, the more I feel like I'm being drawn deeper into a web of lies, deceit, and danger. And as much as I want to leave, I find myself tangled in a situation where escaping seems impossible.
It's been a few days since Adrian's visit, and things have only gotten worse. Damien remains distant, his usual cool demeanor now accompanied by an air of tension that feels suffocating. He's been keeping to himself, spending more time in his study, but today, he calls for me, his voice unusually strained.
I find him in the library, standing by the fireplace, looking out of the window as if lost in thought. His posture is rigid, his back straight, but there's an air of weariness around him, one that makes my heart tighten in sympathy.
"You wanted to see me?" I ask softly, stepping closer but keeping my distance. I don't want to crowd him, not after the way he's been acting lately.
Damien turns slowly, his eyes catching mine. "Yes," he says, his voice low. "There's something I need to tell you."
I swallow, a wave of unease washing over me. Every time he says that, it feels like the earth beneath my feet shifts. "What is it?"
He hesitates, as though weighing his words. "I suspect my family tried to kill me."
I blink, stunned by the bluntness of his confession. "What do you mean?"
He doesn't immediately answer, and for a long moment, the only sound in the room is the crackling of the fire. He walks over to a nearby chair and sinks into it, running a hand through his dark hair. "I was never supposed to survive the accident," he continues, his voice tight. "They tried to make sure I didn't. But… they underestimated me." He lets out a bitter laugh, but there's no humor in it. "I lived, but at a cost. I was left broken, 'crippled,' as they like to call it."
I feel my heart constrict as I take in his words. "Your family… did this to you?" My voice is barely above a whisper, the gravity of his statement settling in.
He nods, his gaze hardening. "Yes. They were never interested in me. Only the power, the wealth, the control. And when I became a threat to their plans, they decided to eliminate me. But I survived. I survived, and now…" His voice falters for just a moment, a flicker of something vulnerable flashing in his eyes before it's quickly masked. "Now, they want me back under their thumb. They want to finish what they started."
A chill runs down my spine. I can hardly comprehend the magnitude of what he's saying. His family tried to kill him? And yet, he's here, still standing, still fighting. But who can he trust? Who can I trust?
I take a step forward, my heart aching for him, even though I'm still not entirely sure I understand the depth of his pain. "Damien, I—"
He cuts me off with a sharp gesture, his expression darkening. "Emilia, you don't understand. I don't want your sympathy. I don't need it." His voice is harsh, but it's not directed at me. It's directed at something far deeper, something painful. "What I need is for you to understand that no one here can be trusted. Not my family. Not the staff. Not even you."
My stomach twists at his words. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that you're in danger too," he says, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that leaves me breathless. "They'll use anyone to get to me, and that includes you. So, do yourself a favor and don't get too attached to anyone here. Not even me."
The weight of his warning presses down on me, a suffocating feeling of isolation creeping into my chest. I want to ask more, to demand the truth from him, but I'm not sure if I'm ready to hear it. What would happen if I stayed? If I pushed him for more answers? Would I be walking straight into whatever trap his family has laid for him?
"You can't expect me to just… shut down like that," I reply, my voice firmer than I feel. "I'm your wife. I deserve to know what's really going on."
Damien looks at me, his eyes flickering with something I can't quite place—regret? Fear? "I didn't ask for this marriage, Emilia," he says, his voice rough. "But now that you're here, you're a part of this. And I'll protect you, but only if you stay out of it. Promise me."
"I can't promise you that," I reply, shaking my head, my resolve hardening. "I need to know everything, Damien. I can't stand being kept in the dark."
He exhales slowly, like he's trying to suppress the frustration that's bubbling inside him. "Then prepare yourself," he says, his voice low and dangerous. "Because once you know the truth, there's no going back."
His words hang in the air, heavy with the weight of everything he's just revealed. I want to scream, to demand more, but something in his gaze tells me I'm not ready for the truth. Not yet.
As if to distract myself from the turmoil inside, I turn to leave, my mind racing. But before I reach the door, I catch sight of something—a small, folded piece of paper on the floor. It looks out of place, as if it's been carelessly dropped there, and curiosity gets the better of me. I pick it up, my heart pounding in my chest as I unfold it.
The words written inside make my blood run cold.
"I need money. If you want me to keep quiet about what happened to her, you'll pay me. No one can know the truth."
I freeze, my hand trembling as I hold the note. "Her?" Who is he talking about? And why would someone need money to stay silent?
My mind races, thoughts tumbling over each other as I try to piece together what this could mean. I glance back at Damien, but he's no longer in the room, leaving me alone with a sense of dread that fills every corner of my being.
This is bigger than I thought. Much bigger.
And it seems I've just stumbled into something far darker than I ever could have imagined.