Chapter 5

The night was quieter than it had any right to be.

Too quiet.

I lay awake, the resolve I had whispered to myself before the mirror still burning faintly in my chest. But resolve was a fragile thing in the silence of a mansion that wasn’t mine, with a husband who wanted nothing to do with me.

I had told myself I would endure, that I would outlast. Yet as the hours dragged on and the walls seemed to close in tighter, I began to wonder if resolve alone was enough to survive a man like Kenneth Diego.

When the clock struck midnight, I slipped from the bed and walked toward the balcony. The night air was cool, brushing my face like a secret. From up here, the city glittered faintly in the distance, but the house itself seemed shrouded in shadow. I gripped the railing, breathing in the silence.

I wasn’t afraid of silence. I had lived in it before, in my father’s house, in the years after the tragedy that had scarred me. But this silence was different. This one felt… alive. Watchful.

And then, faintly, I heard it again.

A door slamming somewhere deep in the house.

My chest tightened. Déjà vu. Another restless night, another ghost wandering the halls. I hesitated, telling myself not to follow this time, not to get tangled in whatever demons haunted him. But my feet betrayed me, carrying me back into the corridor before reason could stop me.

The mansion was hushed, the lamps casting thin golden pools along the marble floor. My bare feet made no sound as I padded down the hallway, toward the same study I had stumbled upon the night before.

This time, the door wasn’t ajar. It was wide open, the light spilling into the dark like an invitation.

Kenneth stood there again.

But not alone.

A man sat across from him, a stranger in a dark suit, his presence radiating power and danger. His back was to me, but I could see Kenneth’s face.

And it wasn’t cold. It wasn’t distant.

It was hard. Ferocious.

I froze, hidden in the shadows, my breath caught in my throat.

“…this marriage needs to hold,” the stranger said, his voice low, commanding. “Do you understand me, Diego? If you falter now, if she slips, everything collapses.”

Kenneth leaned forward, his fists clenched against the desk. “I didn’t ask for this.”

“You didn’t have to. You owe it.”

Silence followed, heavy and electric.

Kenneth’s jaw tightened, and for the first time, I saw the cracks in his armor, not weakness, but fury. Pure, blistering fury.

The man rose from his chair, straightening his suit with calm precision. “Keep her in line. The world doesn’t need to see a happy marriage. They just need to see a controlled one.”

Controlled.

The word sliced through me.

The stranger moved toward the door, and I darted back, pressing myself into the shadows just as he stepped into the hall. His polished shoes clicked against the marble, fading into the distance until silence returned.

I turned back to the study.

Kenneth hadn’t moved. He was still there, standing rigidly behind the desk, his shoulders heaving with the force of his breaths. His hand slammed suddenly against the wood, the sound echoing like thunder.

I flinched.

And then his head lifted. His eyes, dark, wild, unguarded, met mine.

I hadn’t realized I’d been caught.

We stood frozen, the space between us alive with a tension I couldn’t name. His lips parted, as though he might say something. But the words never came.

Instead, he stepped around the desk, walking toward me with long, deliberate strides.

I should have run. I should have retreated to the safety of my room, locked the door, and pretended none of this existed. But my feet refused to move.

He stopped just inches away, so close I could see the faint shadow of stubble across his jaw, the hollowness in his eyes.

“What did you hear?” His voice was low, dangerous, like a blade pressed against my throat.

I swallowed hard. “Enough.”

His jaw worked, his silence heavier than words. Then he stepped even closer, his breath brushing my face.

“You don’t belong in this world, Melinda,” he said. “And if you don’t learn to keep your head down, it will eat you alive.”

I forced myself to meet his gaze, my voice trembling but steady enough. “Maybe I don’t belong here. But I’m already here. And you can’t pretend I don’t exist.”

Something flickered in his eyes at that, pain, maybe. Or rage. I couldn’t tell.

Before I could blink, his hand shot up, gripping the doorframe just above my head, trapping me between him and the wall. My breath caught, the closeness overwhelming. His scent, sharp, clean, tinged with whiskey, wrapped around me like smoke.

He lowered his head until his lips brushed my ear. “Stay. Out. Of. My. Business.”

Then he pushed away, his footsteps retreating back into the study.

The door slammed shut, rattling the frame.

I stood there, shaking, my heart pounding so violently I thought it might burst.

I should have been terrified. And I was. But there was something else burning beneath the fear.

Curiosity.

Because whatever Kenneth Diego was hiding, whatever debt or secret tethered him to men like that stranger, it wasn’t just his cage.

It was mine too.

And I had no intention of being caged forever.

By morning, the echoes of the night still haunted me. But something inside me had shifted. I wasn’t just enduring anymore. I was searching. Watching. Waiting for the cracks to widen.

Breakfast was the same ritual as always—the tray, the silence, the emptiness. But when Kenneth appeared in the doorway, already dressed, his tie perfect, his expression unreadable, I caught his eyes for the briefest moment.

And this time, I didn’t look away first.

His gaze lingered, sharp, assessing. And then he left without a word.

But I had seen it.

The flicker. The hesitation.

The man was hiding something.

And sooner or later, I would find out what.

Even if it destroyed me.

That night, just as I began to drift into restless sleep, a soft creak pulled me awake.

The door to my room opened slowly, silently.

And in the sliver of darkness, a shadow slipped inside.

It wasn’t Kenneth.