Chapter 4. Secrets and Shadows

Ariella's POV.

Damon left before sunrise. His departure was abrupt. He left for business in Geneva, he said. No goodbyes beyond the cold brush of his hand against mine. “Stay… presentable,” he murmured, voice flat but edged with command.

I wasn’t sure if the instruction applied to appearances or obedience.

Within hours, his closest staffer, Marcus, arrived with vigilance. “Breakfast is ready, Ariella,” he said, but his eyes lingered longer than necessary. He was tasked to watch, to report. I noticed the way he subtly hovered, not intrusive yet unmistakably observing.

But something felt off. Little details, a misplaced glass, a chair slightly too close, told me Marcus wasn’t the only one. Damon always had layers. I could feel the invisible hand of someone else, someone watching me beyond Marcus’s awareness.

The burner phone buzzed. It was a message, inviting me to a meeting. It has a location and time, but no name of the sender.

I and left the house with the phone hidden in my clutch under the guise of a lunch appointment. The streets of the city were familiar, yet I walked with heightened caution. Every reflection, every shadow made me pause.

The café I was directed to was tucked between two tall buildings, almost invisible. The guy who was invited was already there waiting. When I got in there, I noticed him seated. He wore a dark coat drawn tight, head lowered. He was scanning the entrance with predatory precision.

“You came,” he said simply, voice low, carrying both relief and warning.

“I need information,” I said, sliding into the chair across from him. “Not riddles.”

He smiled faintly. “He said to me directly and openly. ''That’s why you’re in this position.” He tapped a folder against his thigh. “Everything you need to understand your life here is inside.”

I opened it and saw receipts, signed contracts, and financial statements. All the documents point to the fact that Damon used them to betray my father. Damon hadn’t just controlled my father’s debts; he’d orchestrated them, manipulated them to make my family vulnerable. My chest tightened.

With what Jace told me and what I saw in the documents, I became convinced beyond a reasonable doubt that Damon is a devil. I stared blankly and almost sobbed.

“They were never helping you,” the informant said. “Every act, every hand extended, every mercy shown, it was calculated. You were the prize.”

I glanced at him. “And you? Why risk yourself?”

“Because someone has to remind you the cage has no key,” he said. “And because there’s more than just Damon in this game. You’re being watched. Marcus reports, yes, but there’s another. One Damon does not acknowledge to anyone. I’ve seen the signs. Subtle, almost theatrical. He likes to see you react. To test boundaries.”

My fingers tightened on the folder. “So even when he’s gone…”

“Even then,” he said. “He’s never truly gone. And if he senses weakness, he’ll strike.”

I swallowed. “And you expect me to do… what? Walk through this minefield blind?”

“Not blind,” he corrected, leaning closer. “Be informed, calculated, and maybe… protected by shadows you don’t know exist.”

I stood breathless for seconds, shivering. The exposition about my so-called husband didn't just weaken me but also suffocate me.

The informant showed me a painting on the wall. It was a painting of a woman clawing at golden bars, her face twisted with desperation. '' Do you understand the meaning of this? He asked in a clear voice

I didn’t. I replied, sobbing.

“It’s what he wants you to become, without realizing it. ''You are trapped and you must do as he said. Every smile rehearsed and every step measured. That is your reality, and that is his design.”

My throat closed. “And you’re here… because?”

“Because I’m the leverage he doesn’t see. And because the man you married has blind spots, Ariella.”

I felt the stir of something dangerous, a spark of hope, tinged with fear. I closed the folder, breathing unevenly. “And the man you keep hinting at, the one shadowing me? You’re sure it isn’t Marcus?”

He shook his head. “No. Marcus is loyal, predictable. The other watches silently, leaving crumbs. He’s Damon’s extension, but even Damon doesn’t know the extent of his influence.”

My pulse quickened. “And I’m supposed to…?”

“Survive,” he said, eyes cold but precise. “And maybe fight, when the time comes.”

My heart pounded, and I clenched my teeth; my eyes scanned around. I greeted, and I left before he could add more. He held the folder heavy in my trembling hands.

My thoughts swirled with lots of things. I became afraid of everything, even the unseen. The streets of the city felt narrower as I was going home. Every glance from a passerby made me tense.

Back home, Marcus appeared at the door, casual but sharp-eyed. “Lunch, Ariella. You’ll want to rest before the gala tonight.”

I sighed and retorted. “I’m not hungry,”

He lifted his gaze, subtle, measuring, and snorted. “You look… distracted. Everything all right?”

“Yes,” I lied, voice steady. “Just tired.”

He didn’t press. But I knew he would report every word, every hesitation.

Hours later, at the gala, Damon arrived later than expected. His entrance drew every eye, as intended. He walked more like a god towards me. He grabbed me by my back nonchalantly.

Throughout the evening, his presence reminded all of what the informant told me. I tried to give a sign to Marcus, but he didn't acknowledge it. He was under intense watch by Damon. Damon’s strategy was perfect; he controlled the room, the staff, and even the unseen agent.

And yet, I had the folder. I had knowledge. Again, the informant’s words echoed in my ears. I excused myself to the balcony. I thought about all the traps Damon had set. I saw the signals that Marcus was up to something. My phone rang; it was from an unknown number. Another message on the screen. “Know the board, know the pieces, know yourself. The rest is up to you.”

I didn’t respond immediately. I didn’t need to. The tension of being watched, being protected, being threatened, all was heavy on me, but I also knew something important: for the first time since the wedding, I held a weapon Damon didn’t know about. And I intended to use it.