Lena barely slept that night.
Even in the vast, luxurious bed of her separate suite, she couldn't shake the weight of Damian's words. Now, you're involved.
It wasn't just a warning it was a reality.
Somewhere outside this estate, a threat lurked. Someone dangerous enough for Damian to keep secrets, to protect her with silence instead of trust.
But silence wasn't enough anymore.
She needed answers.
And she had a feeling she wouldn't get them by waiting for Damian to offer them.
The next morning, the mansion was eerily quiet.
Lena descended the grand staircase, her silk robe cinched tightly around her waist. The staff moved about efficiently, offering her polite nods but little else. She was a Blackwood now, but she wasn't truly one of them.
Not yet.
She made her way toward the security office, hoping to find something—anything—that could confirm what she already suspected. But before she could reach the door, a voice stopped her.
"You won't find what you're looking for in there."
Lena turned sharply.
Damian.
He stood at the end of the hallway, suit immaculate despite the early hour. His expression was unreadable, but there was a quiet challenge in his gaze.
"You're up early," she said, masking her racing pulse.
"So are you."
A slow, deliberate silence stretched between them.
Then, with measured steps, Damian closed the distance between them. "If you have questions, Lena, come to me."
She held her ground. "And if I don't trust that you'll answer them?"
A ghost of a smirk touched his lips. "Then you're finally learning how this world works."
His words should have unsettled her, but instead, they only fueled her determination.
"I want the truth, Damian."
His smirk faded. "And if the truth is dangerous?"
Lena didn't hesitate. "Then I want it even more."
Something shifted in his gaze. Approval? Amusement? She wasn't sure.
Then, unexpectedly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek black key card.
"Midnight," he said, pressing it into her palm. "My office."
She blinked. "You're actually going to tell me something?"
"I'll give you what I can." His voice was quiet, but the weight behind it was undeniable.
Lena glanced at the key card, then back at him.
For the first time, it wasn't just defiance that burned between them.
It was something else.
Something neither of them was ready to name.
That night, as the clock neared twelve, Lena slipped from her room and made her way to Damian's office.
The mansion was dark, the hallways empty. But as she reached for the door handle, a prickle of unease crawled down her spine.
She wasn't alone.
Before she could react, a shadow moved at the far end of the hall.
And then
The lights went out.