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Evelyn's POV

The past two weeks had been hell for me, raw living hell.

Yes, Damien had married Genevieve. In fact, my father in-law, didn't even bat an eyelid when he discovered that Genevieve had taken in for Damien. Instead of maybe, I don't know.... defending my honour, or being the bigger person. He demanded Damien take the family's heirloom from my finger and attach it on Genevieve's instead.

When I fought and argued?

He requested Damien send me to another mansion they owned.

And so, my hopelessness was doubled by three times when I heard the door to the mansion get yanked open. Someone had broken into this place and I was the only one here.

Fear gripped me like a bodysuit as the knife in my hands shook, my phone's battery was dead, my charger unsafe to use due to the sparking wires, the tablet smashed against the ground from my earlier breakdown.

Evelyn....is this how you are going to die?

Murdered on the cold damp ground that lacked a heating pad?.

Footsteps grew louder.

"Two seconds, I know someone is in here and I give you two seconds to tell me why you are inhabiting my home."

The voice was male, hoarse, rough... Didn't sound like a burglar.

"What are you talking about?" I unconsciously squeaked from the side of the table I was hiding under. Regretting it instantly because the footsteps retreated and a few seconds later, I came out. Assuming it was safe now.

“Phew—Ahh”.

A hand shot out and grabbed my hair. A blade simultaneously pressed against the side of my neck. My breath hooked in my throat. My eyes flew wide open, body stiff.

“Who are you,” the voice growled, “and what the hell are you doing in my house?”

Darkness cloaked the room thick as tar. I couldn’t see his face, I could only feel the steel grazing my skin and the raging pounding of my heartbeat.

“Y-your house?” I stammered, fighting the tremor in my voice. “This is my house. I live here.”

“Impossible.” His grip in my hair tightened. “How long?”

“W-what?”

“I said, how long have you been here?”

I swallowed hard. “Three days.”

He scoffed.

“Three days… in my house?”

“It’s not your house,” I shot back, my voice wobbling despite myself. “It’s—it’s the house my hus—” I stumbled over the word, choking on the memory. “My husband gave me.”

A sharp humourless laugh escaped his lips.

“Your husband. What an amusing lie.”

Suddenly, the torch clicked on, flashing on my face.

He paused for a moment.

“You… wait, are you Evelyn Banner?”

My brows knitted. “How do you know my name?”

The torch's light shifted, he tilted it to his own face, turning me around. That was when my stomach dropped. My eyes widened in shock. Those eyes, deep, black, like bottomless pits, were unmistakable.

His hair was slicked back, impeccably, in height, he was way taller than I remembered.

Like something out of a fantasy book.

“God,” I whispered, “you’re—”

“Zeke,” he finished for me, lips twisting into a humorless smile. “Zeke Blackwood. Damien’s older brother.”

“You’re slow,” Zeke said, oozing expensive cologne and masculinity like he always had. The blade grazed my neck one last time before he pulled it away. “What if I didn’t have the patience and stabbed you instead?”

I let out a shaky laugh I didn’t even mean to. “Thank God that didn’t happen.”

He stepped back, arms crossing over his chest as he studied me with those abyss-black eyes. “It’s been a while.”

“Years,” I breathed. “The last time I saw you was before….our adult years.”

My throat tightened as memories surfaced. I remembered Zeke from childhood, he was reckless, troubled, the boy always in trouble with the neighbors, with teachers, with life itself. While Damien had been the golden one, Zeke had worn the label of black sheep proudly and defiantly.

“You grew up,” I said quietly.

“And you married my brother,” he countered, tone cutting. “Without me even showing my face. Not even at the wedding.”

“You didn’t come,” I whispered. “Damien said it wasn't necessary for you to.”

He smirked. “Why would I? Damien never needed me. Neither did you.”

I looked down, ashamed. “And now you're doing extremely well. Prominent actor and famed tycoon, yes?”

His brow arched. “So you do read about me?”

I shook my head. “Honestly, I didn’t know till I stumbled on some blogs. Damien never mentioned you.”

At the name, Zeke’s expression turned sour. “Damien…” He let the name drag out.

“Do you know he married Genevieve, my sister?”

His head snapped up. “What?”

After explaining everything to him in a blur, he shook his head.

"Don't go quiet, tell me more. I'd like fresh entertainment."

I rolled my eyes, forcing my tears back. My throat burned. “I don't want to talk more about it, it doesn't matter.”

“Oh, it matters.” Zeke leaned closer, his eyes narrowing. “Because this—” he gestured around the mansion “is mine. My apartment, my property. I came to town for business, and suddenly, you’re squatting in my space.”

“I didn’t choose to stay here,” I snapped. “They threw me here. They won’t let me go back, Zeke."

“So why stay here and sob," he rolled his shoulders. "why not fight?”

I let out a bitter laugh. “Fight? I tried. I begged. I even.....” the words stuck in my throat “I even considered settling for polygamy. I told your father that I would try to accept Genevieve as his second wife temporarily if it meant I could still….still stay.”

Zeke’s face twisted in disgust. “And?”

“And your father laughed, he said even that wasn’t enough. Genevieve wanted sole wife status, nothing less. So Damien agreed, and I got discarded.”

For a heartbeat, silence stretched between us. Then Zeke chuckled.

“So you still think you have a chance to crawl back to Damien? Even after he put a baby inside your sister?”

My chest tightened.

Zeke leaned down until his face hovered near mine, “Can you really live with that? With Genevieve’s child being a permanent chain in Damien’s life? With her forever in his bed, in his bloodline, in his legacy?”

I couldn’t answer.

My lips parted, but nothing came out.

Zeke smirked, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. “That’s what I thought.”

He stepped back, pacing slowly, like a predator circling prey. “Funny, though… When we were younger, I always wondered what you saw in Damien. You remember? I courted you once.”

“You turned me down,” Zeke continued. “You said Damien was the calm one. The composed one. The sweet one.” His lip curled. “You said I was a red flag. And Damien? A green one.”

He leaned in close again, dark eyes locking on mine, voice dropping into a dangerous whisper.

“How’s that green flag working out for you now, Evelyn?”