Chapter Fifteen: The weight of silence

The storm had passed, but the silence that followed was worse. It was the kind that hummed through your bones and left you listening to every breath you took, wondering what was real anymore.

Ariella hadn’t slept. The sky was just beginning to turn gray when she pushed herself off the floor. Her eyes burned, her body heavy from crying, but her mind wouldn’t stop spinning. Every word Elise said, every look Lucien gave her—it kept replaying like a wound she couldn’t stop touching.

She walked to the mirror and almost didn’t recognize the woman staring back. Pale skin. Red eyes. Hair tangled from the night. There was something haunted about her reflection, something she didn’t want to admit was her.

She opened her drawer, her fingers brushing against the silver cross her father had given her years ago. It used to make her feel safe. Now it just made her feel lost.

A sudden creak echoed from the hallway. Her heart jumped. For a moment she thought it was Lucien—but when she opened the door, the hall was empty. Only a faint trace of his cologne lingered, like he’d just been there.

She stepped out slowly, her bare feet cold against the marble. Every corner of the house felt unfamiliar now. The same walls that once trapped her now carried the whispers of things she could no longer ignore.

When she reached the main hall, she saw Lucien’s jacket draped over the couch. The sight of it made her chest tighten. She walked closer, running her fingers over the fabric, remembering how his arms felt when they held her—strong but trembling, as if he was always afraid of breaking her.

She swallowed hard. “You don’t get to disappear again,” she whispered to no one.

Behind her, a voice said quietly, “I didn’t.”

She spun around. Lucien stood in the doorway, his hair messy, his eyes hollow. There was no arrogance in him anymore—just exhaustion.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Ariella said, her voice low.

“I know,” he replied. “But I couldn’t leave things like that.”

She crossed her arms, trying to steady her voice. “What do you want me to say, Lucien? That I understand? Because I don’t. I don’t understand any of it.”

He took a step closer. “Then let me explain.”

“Explain?” She let out a shaky laugh. “You had every chance to tell me the truth, and you didn’t. You let me believe a lie. You let me fall for you.”

Lucien’s face tightened. “I was trying to protect you.”

“From what?” she snapped. “The truth or yourself?”

Silence fell between them. The kind that carried too many memories, too many regrets.

Finally, Lucien spoke again, his voice breaking. “There’s more you need to know about that night. About your father… and Elise’s husband.”

Ariella’s breath caught. “What do you mean?”

He hesitated. His jaw clenched like he was fighting himself. “Your father didn’t kill him, Ariella. Elise did.”

Her heart stilled.

“What?”

Lucien stepped forward, his voice quiet but firm. “She pulled the trigger. But your father took the blame to protect her—and you.”

Ariella stared at him, her lips parting, but no words came. Her knees went weak as the truth crashed into her like a wave.

All this time… she’d been mourning a lie.

“She’s been using both of us,” Lucien continued. “And now she’s making sure you never find out what really happened. That’s why she’s still here.”

Tears blurred her vision. “You’re lying—”

“I swear it,” he cut in. “I saw it. I’ve lived with it every day since. That’s why I married into this mess, Ariella. To uncover what really happened—to make her pay.”

Ariella shook her head slowly, her breath uneven. “Then why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you loved her,” he said simply. “And I didn’t want to be the one to break you.”

For a long, heavy moment, she said nothing. Just stared at him, her heart breaking in a new way.

Then, quietly, she whispered, “You already did.”

Lucien’s eyes closed, pain flickering across his face. “I know.”

The silence between them stretched until it felt unbearable. Then Ariella turned away, her voice shaking but strong.

“If Elise did this,” she said, “then I’ll find proof. I’m done letting everyone else write the truth for me.”

Lucien watched her, something unreadable in his gaze. “Then we start together.”

She looked back at him, and for the first time, she didn’t see the man who destroyed her world. She saw the one who could help her rebuild it.

But deep down, she knew nothing about this was over.

The real war had just begun.

---Sometimes, the people we trust the most are the ones who hide the sharpest truths. 💔

What would you do if everything you believed about your family was a lie?

Tell me your thoughts in the comments—I read every single one.

— Q. Monroe