Chapter Three: The House of Lies

It started with a laugh.

Not recent. Not even real. Just something caught between a dream and a memory. But it echoed in Elias’s ears like it had just happened.

He jerked upright in bed, breath shaky, shirt damp with sweat. The room was still, too still. No one else there. No voices. Just that cold, quiet emptiness of a penthouse that didn’t feel anything like home.

His pulse wasn’t racing, but something felt… off. Like his body remembered something his mind couldn’t.

He didn’t even know when he’d fallen asleep. Couldn’t say what day it was. But that laugh low, warm, easy it lingered.

It had been a man’s voice.

Somehow, he just knew.

Lucas.

He didn’t know how or why, but the name sat in his chest like something that used to belong there.

Down the hall, Lucas lay awake, staring at the ceiling like it had answers.

Neither of them had really slept.

Six months. That was the deal. Public affection. Smiles that didn’t mean anything. No shared bed. No messy feelings. All of it laid out like a business contract.

But over dinner, Elias had looked at him differently. Like he was trying to reach for something blurry in the dark. Like part of him wanted to remember or maybe didn’t know if he could handle what he’d find.

And it killed Lucas that he noticed.

It killed him even more that he still cared.

His phone buzzed beside him.

Jesse:

How’s married life with your sexy zombie?

Lucas huffed. Shook his head and typed back.

L:

Emotionally draining. 11/10 don’t recommend.

The next morning was gray. Sky heavy. Air thick with silence.

Lucas stepped into the living room and found Elias already dressed, holding two mugs.

“I figured you still take it black,” Elias said, offering one.

Lucas blinked, a little thrown. “Yeah. I do.”

Elias smiled small, careful. “One thing I didn’t screw up, I guess.”

They sat across from each other, not touching, both gripping their mugs like they needed something to hold onto.

“I had a dream,” Elias said after a pause. “Think it was about you.”

Lucas didn’t say anything, just raised an eyebrow.

“You laughed,” Elias went on. “Called me El. And I felt... safe.”

Lucas’s hands tensed around the cup.

“You used to call me that,” Elias said, like he was testing the words.

Lucas nodded slowly. “You hated when anyone else did. But when I said it… you said it made you feel like yourself.”

Elias stared into his coffee. “I don’t feel like myself now. I feel like I stepped into someone else’s story halfway through, and no one left the script.”

Lucas’s voice was low. “You mean the part where you disappeared?”

“I didn’t choose that,” Elias said, not looking at him.

“I know,” Lucas replied. “But you being gone... it still tore everything apart.”

Elias nodded, jaw tight. “I want to remember.”

Lucas sighed. “You don’t get to force it. If it comes back, it comes. If it doesn’t... we deal.”

“And what if I remember something I wish I didn’t?”

Lucas looked right at him. “Then at least we’ll both know if what we had was real or just something we made ourselves believe.”

That afternoon, they headed to a charity luncheon at the Ward estate.

Lucas had only been there once. It hadn’t changed. Too polished. Too perfect. It didn’t feel like anyone actually lived there  just walked around pretending.

The second they stepped out of the car, cameras went wild. Flashes. Questions. Chaos.

Lucas slid his hand into Elias’s without thinking. Fingers curled together like they used to.

Granger had said, “Smile like you’re still in love.”

Lucas didn’t have to fake it. That was the worst part.

Inside, Dorian waited  same sharp grin, same polished cruelty.

“Well, well,” he said, pulling Elias into a stiff hug. “The lost Ward boy and his devoted little husband.”

Lucas forced a smile. “Pleasure’s all mine.”

Dorian turned, smirking. “Memory still Swiss cheese, brother?”

“Still a work in progress,” Elias said. “Lucas has been helping.”

“I’m sure he has,” Dorian replied, eyes slicing toward Lucas like knives.

Lucas leaned close, voice low. “Why do I get the feeling your brother wants me dead?”

“Because,” Elias said softly, “he probably does.”

The rest of the event blurred. Handshakes, fake laughs, wine neither of them touched.

Eventually, Lucas slipped away.

He found the study by accident. Dark, tucked behind a hall no one was using. Quiet.

Books everywhere. A piano in the corner. Dust floating in the light like it belonged there.

Lucas stepped inside and shut the door behind him.

His hand skimmed the top of the piano  smooth, cool. He remembered Elias once played for him here, tipsy and off-key at two in the morning. Lucas had laughed so hard he’d cried.

“You always were sentimental.”

The voice made him turn.

Dorian stood in the doorway, glass of scotch in one hand, eyes unreadable.

“I was just”

“Reliving the good ol’ days?” Dorian stepped in. “Charming.”

Lucas straightened. “This isn’t some fantasy. I didn’t come back here for a storybook ending.”

“Oh, please,” Dorian scoffed. “You think I believe this whole miracle reunion act? He doesn’t even remember your birthday.”

“I’m not doing this for you,” Lucas snapped. “I never stopped loving him. That’s not your business.”

“Then you’re either brave or stupid,” Dorian said coolly. “Maybe both. But trust me, when his memory returns and it will you won’t like what comes with it.”

Lucas stared him down. “Maybe. But I’d rather fight for what we had than walk away wondering.”

Dorian’s gaze sharpened. “You don’t get to win. Not in this house. Not in this family.”

Lucas didn’t blink. “We’ll see.”

That night, back at the penthouse, Lucas sat at the counter, stirring his tea. The world felt too loud, even in the quiet.

Elias walked in, moving slow, cautious. “Something happened today?”

Lucas didn’t look up.

“Lucas?”

Finally, he spoke. “Your brother made it clear I’m not part of this world.”

Elias sighed. “That’s how he is.”

Lucas gave a tired smile. “I noticed.”

There was a pause.

“Can I ask something?” Elias said.

Lucas gave a nod.

“Why’d we get married in secret?”

Lucas looked away. “Because your dad had just died. Your family would’ve cut you off. And you were scared. But I loved you. So I said yes anyway.”

“Would I have chosen them over you?”

Lucas hesitated. “You almost did.”

Elias didn’t respond right away. “Do you regret it?”

Lucas shook his head. “No. I regret a lot of things. But not that.”

Elias stepped a little closer. “Then maybe this is a second chance.”

Lucas looked at him, heart in pieces. “Or maybe this whole thing is built on lies. And we’re just waiting for it all to crack.”

Elias didn’t say a word.

But that night, he dreamed again. The same laugh. Same voice. Same warm feeling in his chest.

Only this time, it ended with a kiss.

And when he woke up, he could still feel it soft, familiar, just enough to make him believe it might’ve been real.