Chapter Six: A stranger in my own skin

---

The house was quiet. Too quiet.

Ariella sat at the edge of her bed, her fingers trembling as she stared down at the wedding ring on her finger. It felt like a shackle. Gold, beautiful, suffocating.

She hadn’t seen Lucien since the stormy dinner. He hadn’t come to her room. Hadn’t sent for her. And the silence—it was louder than any shouting could ever be.

She wanted to believe she hated him.

But the way he’d looked at her, like he could tear the world apart for her and still leave her bleeding... It haunted her.

A soft knock tapped against her door.

Before she could answer, it creaked open and Elise stepped inside, uninvited as always. Dressed in a sleek maroon robe, the woman looked like royalty who owned every corridor in this mansion—and everyone in it.

“Good morning, dear,” Elise said with that same syrupy voice that Ariella had come to dread. “You didn’t come down for breakfast.”

“I wasn’t hungry,” Ariella replied flatly.

“Still sulking?” Elise asked, moving to the vanity and brushing invisible dust off it. “Marriage isn’t a fairytale. You’ll learn.”

“I didn’t marry for love,” Ariella said without looking at her. “We both know that.”

Elise’s smile sharpened. “No. You married for blood.”

The words hit like cold water.

Elise turned toward her, folding her arms. “Do you know what your father did, Ariella?”

Ariella’s head snapped up. “He made mistakes. He owed Lucien money. That’s all.”

Elise chuckled. “That’s what they told you?”

“What do you mean?” Her voice cracked.

Elise walked over slowly, each step like a clock ticking down. “Lucien didn’t just marry you for some debt. He could’ve erased your father’s name from the earth and walked away clean. He chose to keep you.”

Ariella stood, her pulse thundering. “Why?”

“Because your father betrayed more than Lucien. He betrayed someone very powerful. And now Lucien is protecting you from them.”

“Who?” Ariella whispered.

Elise only smiled and brushed a lock of Ariella’s hair behind her ear. “Ask him. If you dare.”

With that, she turned and left, the door closing with a soft but final click.

Ariella stood there, heart racing. Was Elise just toying with her again? Or was there a deeper storm brewing beneath the surface?

She couldn’t sit in the shadows anymore.

She changed out of her silk nightgown, pulled on a sweater and jeans, and marched down the hallway. Every part of her screamed to stay silent, to not poke the beast. But she was done being afraid of the truth.

She found Lucien in his private study, where the walls were lined with ancient books and the air smelled of cedar and secrets.

He looked up as she entered, his eyes unreadable. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“We’re married,” she said, her voice steadier than she expected. “If I’m not allowed to be here, then where am I allowed to be?”

Lucien closed the file he’d been reading. “What do you want, Ariella?”

“The truth.”

He tilted his head. “About what?”

“My father. The debt. Elise. Everything.”

Lucien’s jaw tensed, and for a moment, she saw it—the storm behind his calm mask. “You think you're ready for that?”

“I think I deserve it.”

He stood and walked toward her slowly. She didn’t move.

“When I said not to ask about the night your father died,” Lucien said quietly, “I meant it.”

Ariella held his gaze. “Then why am I here, Lucien? Why did you marry me if all you wanted was silence?”

His hand brushed her cheek. “Because you were the last thing he loved. And the only thing I couldn’t destroy.”

Her breath caught in her throat.

Lucien stepped back. “You’re not ready. Not yet.”

She didn’t argue. Not because he was right, but because she saw something crack in his expression—regret.

Ariella turned and walked out, but not before glancing back one last time.

Maybe the man she feared wasn’t the one she should fear most.

Maybe the enemy wasn’t Lucien.

Maybe it was someone inside this very house.

Someone who smiled too much. Someone who knew too much.

Someone like Elise.

Ariella’s steps slowed as she walked back through the dim hallway, her thoughts unraveling like thread pulled too tight. Elise had a way of saying things that got under her skin—half-truths twisted into threats. But this time… it felt different.

Deliberate.

Personal.

She reached the top of the grand staircase and paused. Down below, Elise stood by the tall windows, speaking in hushed tones on her phone. Her back was turned, but Ariella could see the tension in her posture—the way her fingers clenched the phone tighter than necessary.

Then Elise said something that made Ariella’s blood run cold.

“—She’s starting to ask questions. I told you, we should’ve handled her sooner.”

Ariella froze, one hand still on the banister.

There was a pause. Whoever was on the other end said something that made Elise let out a quiet, irritated laugh.

“No. Lucien’s too close now. It’s not going to be easy. But we’ll find another way.”

The call ended.

Ariella backed away quietly, heart pounding so hard she thought Elise might hear it through the walls. She ducked into the nearest hallway and leaned against the wall, trying to catch her breath.

Handled her sooner?

Who was we?

And why did Lucien being “too close” suddenly make her feel like he might actually be her only lifeline in this twisted house?

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. One notification.

A text message.

Unknown Number:

“You’re not safe there. Don’t trust the woman in red.”

Ariella’s hands shook.

She turned off the screen and looked down the corridor toward her bedroom. Suddenly, the mansion felt less like a home and more like a trap.

Not just a prison of marriage—but a battlefield of secrets.

She didn’t know who to trust.

Lucien might be dangerous.

But Elise… Elise was something else entirely.

Ariella squared her shoulders and whispered to herself, “I need to find the truth. Before the truth finds me first.”

And with that, she walked back into the dark.

---