Chapter 4 The Space Between Lies

I woke to the sound of silence a kind of silence that felt too perfect to trust. The kind that presses against your ribs like it's holding its breath with you.

The estate was still. Morning light filtered through the sheer curtains in pale golden ribbons. Somewhere below, the house staff was no doubt moving, preparing breakfast and arranging Damien's perfectly orchestrated life. But up here, in the room I now shared with a man I barely knew, everything felt suspended.

I rolled over and stared at the untouched side of the bed.

He hadn't come back last night.

I didn't know if I was relieved or disappointed.

Probably both.

I slipped out of bed and padded to the balcony, pulling a robe around my body as I stepped into the chilly air. The view of the sea was so breathtaking it almost felt cruel. How could something so beautiful exist alongside everything I was tangled in?

Footsteps sounded behind me.

I turned, expecting Damien-or maybe Luca again, pushing boundaries.

But it was Anastasia.

"Elena," she said carefully, her voice still laced with a Russian accent she didn't bother to hide, "you need to eat."

I nodded and followed her down, unsure if I was walking toward breakfast or another battlefield.

---

In the Dining Room

Damien was already at the table, dressed in dark gray, collar sharp, sleeves rolled up just enough to show the veins in his forearms. A newspaper lay open beside a steaming espresso cup, and he barely looked up as I entered.

"Morning," he said flatly.

I sat across from him. "Did you sleep?"

"No."

"Because of the room?"

His eyes flicked up to mine. "Among other things."

There was a pause. A long one.

"Why didn't you tell me about her?" I asked.

He exhaled through his nose. "Because it wasn't relevant. Until you made it relevant."

"People don't just disappear."

"She didn't disappear. She left. It's not the same thing."

"But you never went after her?"

His jaw clenched. "Would you chase someone who told the world you were a monster?"

I didn't answer. Mostly because I didn't know.

He pushed back from the table and stood, his espresso untouched. "If you want answers, Elena, you'll have to earn them."

"And how do I do that?"

He looked over his shoulder. "Stop looking at me like you're waiting for a villain to reveal himself."

---

Later That Day

Luca had gone silent. No texts, no calls. I didn't know if it was his way of protecting me or punishing me.

Anastasia found me in the library a few hours later, flipping through books I wasn't really reading.

"You're thinking too loud," she said, settling across from me with a grace I envied.

"Is that your way of telling me to stop?"

"No. It's my way of telling you to be careful."

I looked at her. "You used to work for Damien's father, right?"

She nodded.

"Did you know her? Tatiana?"

A flicker of emotion passed across her face-something like regret or maybe pity. "She was... soft. Beautiful. Not built for this world."

"Did she leave willingly?"

Anastasia leaned forward. "Everyone wants to believe they have a choice, Elena. But sometimes the only real choice we get is how loudly we scream before we're silenced."

The words chilled me.

"You think Damien is dangerous."

"I know he is," she said. "But so are you. If you weren't, they wouldn't be circling like sharks."

---

Evening Shadows

That night, Damien didn't return home again.

Instead, Marcel handed me a note.

> "Elena,

Don't wait up. There are things I need to finish before I can be the man you think you're marrying.

-D."

I stared at it for a long time.

What exactly did he think I saw in him?

Certainly not a husband.

Maybe a mirror.

---

Outside the Estate

I needed air. Real air. The kind that didn't smell like polished marble and legacy. So I pulled on a jacket and walked down the private path behind the gardens, one that led to a rocky overlook few people knew existed.

I was halfway down when I saw him.

Luca.

Sitting on the edge of the cliff like he'd been waiting hours. Maybe days.

"Thought I'd have to climb the walls to get a moment alone with you," he said without looking up.

"You shouldn't be here."

He turned toward me, wind tossing his dark hair. "You say that a lot."

"Because it's true."

He smiled bitterly. "Then lie to me, Elena. Just for once. Tell me you're okay. That you're not being pulled under."

I sat beside him, arms wrapped around my knees. "I don't know what I am anymore."

He didn't speak for a while. Just let the wind fill the silence.

Finally, he said, "I met someone from Damien's past."

I stiffened.

"Her name's Alina. Used to work as a housemaid in one of his father's old properties outside Florence. She said there were rumors about what happened to Tatiana. That she didn't run. That she found something."

"What kind of something?"

"She didn't say. Just that it scared her. And then she vanished."

I stared at the sea. "So why are you telling me this?"

"Because you're in the middle of a story that started long before you walked into it. And I don't want you to be the next woman who disappears."

I looked at him. "You're still in love with me."

He didn't flinch. "Yeah. I am."

"And what do you want me to do about that?"

"Nothing," he said quietly. "Just don't let him make you forget who you are."

---

Back Inside

The mansion felt different when I returned.

Quieter. Colder.

I headed up the stairs, toward the master wing, but something in the hallway made me pause. A door I hadn't noticed before. Half-open. Just enough to invite curiosity.

I looked around. No guards. No cameras.

Inside was a study.

Damien's.

Books lined the walls, meticulously organized. A decanter of whiskey sat beside an old globe bar. But what caught my attention was the file drawer slightly ajar.

I approached, heart pounding.

Inside were folders. Dozens. Each labeled in elegant, controlled handwriting.

Tatiana.

Elena.

Volkov Holdings.

Ricci Contracts.

Luca De Luca.

I reached for my own file first.

Photos. Surveillance shots. Reports. Notes on my habits, my fears, my likes. A section labeled: "Weaknesses."

My hands trembled as I shoved it back and opened the one labeled Tatiana.

The first photo stopped me cold.

It was her.

Tatiana. But not soft and smiling.

Bruised.

Then another-taken from afar. Her entering a clinic. Then one of her crying, sitting beside a grave.

No date. No name.

I didn't hear the door until it shut behind me.

"Looking for something?"

Damien's voice was low. Calm.

Too calm.

I turned slowly. "Why do you have a file on me?"

His eyes darkened. "Because I don't leave things to chance."

"You were watching me before we ever met."

"Yes."

"Why?"

He stepped closer. "Because your father owed me more than he could ever repay. And offering you up like a token was his way of breaking even."

My heart dropped. "So this was all... transactional?"

"At first," he said. "But not anymore."

I laughed, a bitter sound. "You don't even know me."

"I know what you're capable of," he said. "And that's more dangerous than love."

---

Alone Again

That night, I sat at the window, knees pulled to my chest, staring at a world that had never felt farther from mine.

Everyone wanted something from me.

Everyone had secrets.

And I was drowning in both.

But maybe... maybe I wasn't powerless.

Maybe it was time I started playing my own game.