The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden glow through the tall windows of the Argent estate's grand hall. Lila stood by one of them, her fingers trailing lightly over the cool glass. She had barely slept the night before, her mind buzzing with the strange, unsettling feeling of being watched. Of course, it could just be paranoia—a result of the trauma of being thrust into this new life—but she couldn't shake the feeling.
Her new family was nothing like what she had imagined based on the book. They were… kind, attentive, even if there was still a certain formality to their interactions. And yet, she couldn't deny that something felt off.
Her eyes flicked to Ciel as he walked through the door, his posture commanding and his expression distant, but there was something new in the way he held himself. His gaze flickered to her as he approached. For a brief moment, she thought she saw the faintest hint of a smile—almost imperceptible.
"Ciel," she greeted, trying to keep her voice neutral despite the rapid fluttering in her chest.
"Lila," he replied, his voice smooth, though it carried a note of something unfamiliar—concern? "I hope I haven't kept you waiting long."
Lila shook her head. "No, not at all. I was just… thinking."
He nodded, his eyes still on her, and for a moment, there was a strange tension between them—an unspoken understanding, perhaps, or a hesitation. Ciel had always been distant, even cold in the book. He had been the perfect fiancée in public but indifferent in private. Now, he seemed almost… intrigued? Was it the new circumstances? Or was it something more personal?
"I'm glad you're here," he said, stepping closer. "We need to talk about our future plans—about the upcoming engagement ball."
The mention of the engagement ball made Lila's stomach tighten. She remembered the event well from the novel—an extravagant affair filled with political games and forced smiles. But the entire evening was a pivotal moment, as it marked the beginning of Lila's fall from grace.
But this time, Lila wasn't going to let that happen. She would control the narrative, even if it meant navigating the storm of court politics and hidden agendas.
"I've been thinking about that as well," Lila said, her voice even. "Perhaps we could make some changes to the plans. Something that reflects more of… my vision."
Ciel raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. The woman in the book had been passive—docile, even. But this was a different Lila. She was no longer content to play the villain. She was determined to rewrite her fate.
"What kind of changes do you mean?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.
Lila smiled softly, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Let's talk about it over dinner," she said, before turning toward the door. "But I'm not the only one with a say, am I? You've had your own plans too, haven't you, Ciel?"
Her words lingered in the air, and for a second, Lila could have sworn she saw a flicker of something in his eyes—something that could have been surprise, or perhaps admiration.
Dinner that evening was a somber affair, filled with polite conversation and the usual familial pleasantries. But Lila couldn't help but notice the way her brothers looked at her. Callum, always the most sarcastic and blunt of them, kept sneaking glances at her, his brow furrowed in thought. Adrian, on the other hand, seemed more relaxed, as if amused by some secret joke only he knew.
But it was Aria's behavior that truly caught Lila's attention. Her adopted sister had always played the sweet, innocent role to perfection in the book, but Lila knew better now. There was a hidden edge to Aria, a sharpness that Lila hadn't seen before.
After dinner, Lila excused herself, retreating to her chambers. She needed time alone to sort through her thoughts, but the unease in her chest wouldn't leave her.
As she sat down by her desk, the door creaked open behind her. She turned to see Callum standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable.
"You've been acting strange, Lila," he said, his voice low and serious. "Something's different about you."
Lila stiffened but quickly recovered her composure. "I'm just… adjusting," she said, not wanting to delve too deeply into her motives. "This is all new to me."
Callum stepped into the room, his sharp eyes scanning her face. "Is it? You've always been the type to hide your true intentions, even back when we were younger. So, what's changed now?"
Lila felt a knot form in her stomach. Callum had always been perceptive, but he was also known for his blunt honesty. She wasn't sure how much to reveal, or if she could trust him.
"I've decided I want a different path for myself," Lila said quietly. "I don't want to be the villain anymore."
Callum's eyes softened just a fraction, though the smirk that always lingered on his lips never truly disappeared. "Good luck with that," he said. "In case you haven't noticed, our family doesn't let anyone change the script. Not even you."
Before Lila could respond, Callum turned and left the room, his footsteps fading down the hallway. She let out a slow breath, feeling a strange mixture of determination and dread. It wasn't just the family that was watching her. There were others too.
The sound of another knock at the door interrupted her thoughts.
"Come in," she called, feeling the familiar sense of tension rise again. She wasn't sure if she was ready to face more questions—more probing eyes—but she wasn't left with much choice.
The door opened, and standing in the doorway was Adrian. His easy grin was back in place, but there was something more to it tonight. Something almost predatory.
"How's the princess?" Adrian teased, stepping into the room without waiting for an invitation.
Lila stood up, crossing her arms. "Is there something you want, Adrian?"
He leaned casually against her desk, his gaze lingering on her with an unreadable intensity. "I'm just here to see how you're adjusting to the role of the dutiful fiancée," he said, his tone light but with an underlying challenge. "It's a tricky game, isn't it? One wrong move, and you could lose everything."
Lila wasn't sure if he was referring to her or himself, but she wasn't about to let Adrian think she was an easy target. "I'm not like her," Lila said, her voice steady. "And I'm not going to let anyone decide my fate for me."
Adrian studied her, his smirk still in place, though there was a flicker of something more—was it amusement? Approval? He nodded slowly, as though making a decision. "We'll see about that."
He left as quietly as he had entered, and Lila was left alone again with her thoughts. Her brothers were more perceptive than she had given them credit for. They weren't just passive bystanders in her story—they were players, just like her.
And suddenly, the stakes felt much higher.