Lena's mind raced as she left the security office, the image of the shadowy figure burned into her thoughts. There was no denying it now—someone was watching them. Watching her.
She needed answers, but she also knew better than to confront Damian without being certain of what she'd seen. He had a way of shutting down anything that strayed too far from his control, and this was no exception.
Back in her room, Lena sat at the desk, waiting for the security footage to arrive. The silence in the house felt oppressive, the weight of her marriage to Damian Blackwood hanging heavily on her shoulders.
Minutes later, a ping from her phone broke the stillness.
The footage was in her inbox.
Her hands shook slightly as she opened the email. The video loaded, and she watched again. This time, she studied the figure more closely—the way they moved, the stillness in their posture, as if they were waiting for something.
Something that hadn't come yet.
Lena felt a chill settle deep in her bones. She had to know who this person was—and why they were so intent on staying hidden.
She was just about to forward the footage to her personal email when a soft knock sounded at her door.
"Come in," she called, reluctantly stepping away from the desk.
The door creaked open, and Damian stood in the doorway, his gaze sharp, focused on her.
"Lena," he began, his voice low but commanding. "What's going on?"
Her pulse quickened. She wasn't sure whether it was the lingering tension between them or the sudden realization that he might have already known about the figure.
"I—" she began, but her words faltered.
Damian stepped inside, his eyes scanning the room before landing on her phone. "I saw the footage."
Lena's heart skipped a beat. "You've already seen it?"
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he crossed the room to stand beside her, his presence overwhelming.
"Why didn't you tell me you were looking into this?" His voice was controlled, but there was an edge to it—concern, or something darker?
"I didn't want to involve you," Lena said, a slight defiance creeping into her voice. "It seemed like something I could handle on my own."
Damian's gaze softened for a fraction of a second before hardening once more. "This isn't something you handle alone. Especially not now."
Lena narrowed her eyes, frustration bubbling up. "Why? Because I'm your wife? Or because you don't trust me to make decisions for myself?"
His jaw tightened, but he didn't respond immediately. Instead, he reached for her phone, pausing only when their hands brushed. A flicker of something—something almost like warmth—flashed between them before it was gone, replaced by that same coldness.
"I'll take care of this," Damian said quietly, his tone brokering no argument. "Don't worry about it."
Lena pulled her hand back, her eyes narrowing as she stepped away from him. "I'm not worried about it, Damian. I'm involved in this now. Whether you like it or not."
Damian's gaze never wavered. "I don't need you involved in this. Not this."
"You can't just keep shutting me out," she retorted, her voice rising in spite of herself. "This is my life too. My safety too."
Damian's lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, the tension between them seemed unbearable.
Then, without another word, he turned on his heel and walked toward the door.
Lena stood there, staring after him. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving her alone again, but this time, she wasn't sure whether the silence was more suffocating than before.
Her mind whirled with questions, and for the first time, she felt as though she had stepped into a world far darker than she had ever imagined.
There were secrets, his secrets, and she was beginning to understand just how deep they went.
And the most terrifying part? She wasn't sure she could stop herself from uncovering them.