Chapter 10: A New Rival
The days that followed Dorian's quiet departure from the drawing room were marked by an unsettling shift. The delicate intimacy they had shared lingered in the air, but there was a new weight in Emilia's chest—a sense that something was about to change. Something she wasn't sure she was ready for.
Dorian had kept his distance since the last time they met, but still, she had the sense of his presence in this house, looming over her from the corners of her mind. The pull that had grown between them was an undeniable urge no more. The walls that had taken years to build around her heart now grew thicker and impenetrable. She did not know how to trust him, much less how to trust herself.
It was on one of those quiet afternoons, while Emilia was preparing the dining room for the evening, that the unexpected happened. The sound of a car pulling into the driveway broke the monotony of the afternoon, followed by the sharp click of heels on the marble floor outside the room. Emilia looked up, her heart inexplicably quickening as the woman stepped into view.
She was stunningly beautiful-tall, elegant, and impossible to ignore. Impeccably dressed in a sleek, black dress that hugged her every curve, her long, dark hair cascading in perfect waves down her back, her eyes dark and calculating, scanning the room with a gaze that seemed to take in every detail, every movement.
"Excuse me," the woman's voice was smooth, almost too smooth, as she entered the room without so much as a greeting. "I'm looking for Dorian."
Emilia stiffened, the words catching in her throat. There was something about the woman's demeanor that instantly put her on edge, something in the way she moved—confident, assured—that made her feel small in comparison.
"I… I'm not sure where he is," Emilia managed to say, though her voice felt weak under the weight of the woman's gaze.
The woman gave her a long, considering look before responding, her lips curling into a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'm sure you know exactly where he is," she said with a touch of disdain. "After all, a housemaid like you must be aware of his every movement.
Emilia felt a cold prickling of anger rise within her, but she fought it down, unwilling to show any sign of weakness.
"I don't know where he is," she repeated, her voice firmer this time. "And I'm not sure why you're here."
The smile faltered for a moment on the woman's face before she spoke, her tone laced with a sharp edge. "Let's not pretend, shall we? You may not know me, but I know all about you, Emilia. How could I not? A woman who catches Dorian's attention so easily.
Emilia felt a knot tighten in her stomach. This wasn't just any woman-this was someone who knew exactly what she was doing, someone who didn't hesitate to make her presence known. The tension in the air grew thick, and Emilia couldn't help but wonder: who was she to Dorian?
The woman stepped closer, her gaze never leaving Emilia's face. "I'm Lyla," she said with a practiced smile. "And I'd advise you to be careful. Dorian may be fond of you, but he doesn't keep company with people like you for long.
The breath went out of Emilia as though the words stung her, yet it was more the undertones, or possibly even something within Lyla's delivery itself that sent up the feeling she was getting at more than what was spoken.
Just then, the sound of feet approached in the hallway, and within an instant, Dorian was in the doorway. He cast glances back and forth between them with some emotion insinuating within his features, not fully interpretable.
"Lyla," he said, his voice cool, almost indifferent. "I wasn't expecting you."
The smile on Lyla's face only grew wider at the sound of his voice, and she took a step closer, as if to close the distance between them. "I wanted to see you, Dorian," she said, her voice low and inviting, the kind of voice that could only be owned by someone who is used to getting what they wanted.
Emilia stood stock-still, caught in the strange tension between the two of them. The way Dorian's gaze lingered on Lyla, that faint flicker of something-almost affection-there, twisted her stomach. Was this… woman his past? Was she someone important?
Dorian's gaze finally shifted to Emilia, and for the briefest moment, she could see something flicker in his eyes—a shadow of guilt, maybe, or something darker. But it was gone before she could fully register it.
"Lyla is an old acquaintance," Dorian said, his voice steady, but there was an edge to it now. "What she's referring to is none of your concern, Emilia.
Emilia's heart clenched at the words. None of her concern. She wanted to argue, to demand answers, but something about Dorian's tone-firm, commanding-stilled her.
Lyla, however, seemed unflappable. She leaned in just slightly, her gaze still fixed on Emilia. "You should be careful," she warned softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Dorian is not the kind of man you think he is. Don't get too attached.
Emilia opened her mouth to respond, but Dorian's voice cut through the air, sharp and commanding. "Enough, Lyla.
The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. Emilia's mind was racing, her heart pounding while she struggled to make sense of what had just happened. Who was Lyla? What did she want with Dorian? And why did it feel like she was being pushed out, even though she had never truly been invited in?
She smirked and then turned to leave toward the door. "I'll leave you two to your. conversation," she spat, heavy on sarcasm. "But remember, Emilia, you've been warned."
With that, she was gone, the sound of her feet dissipating into the distance.
Dorian exhaled hard, running a hand through his hair. His face had turned unreadable once more, and Emilia couldn't help but feel a pang of uncertainty.
"Who is she?" Emilia asked, her voice barely above a whisper. The question had been on the tip of her tongue since Lyla had entered, and now it felt impossible to ignore.
Dorian met her gaze, his eyes hardening. "Someone I'm trying to forget," he said quietly, but there was something in his voice—something dark—that made Emilia's heart sink.
I did not like the way that she looked at me," Emilia said, still trembling a little.
"Do not dwell on her for one instant," Dorian said shortly, though a flicker of something-possibly regret-touched his eyes. "She is nothing to me.
But the words felt hollow, and Emilia couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the story. A new dynamic had been introduced, one that threatened to break through the fragile bond she had begun to form with Dorian. And now, with Lyla's warning hanging in the air, she couldn't help but wonder if she was already in too deep.