WHISPERS OF TRUTH

“If she thinks love will save her in this house,” Damian muttered coldly, “she’s more foolish than I thought.”

Damian's reflection stared back at him through the dark glass of his office window. The sun had barely risen, yet his anger had already found a reason to burn. He straightened his cuffs, his jaw tightening with irritation.

Lena.

Her name alone made his blood boil not because he wanted her gone, but because she had become Darius’s peace, and peace was something Damian despised his brother having.

He turned sharply and stormed out of the room.

….

Lena stirred slowly. Her head ached lightly, and her body felt heavy, as though the night had drained her strength. Warmth surrounded her strong, steady warmth. When she opened her eyes, her heart skipped.

Darius was beside her.

His arm rested protectively over her waist, his breath calm and slow. For a moment, she didn’t move. She didn’t want to. The calmness in his sleeping face felt unreal in a house that breathed only control and tension.

But as soon as Darius sensed her movement, his eyes flickered open.

Their gazes met for barely two seconds before he quickly pulled his arm back and sat up. His expression tightened.

“Good morning,” she whispered quietly, almost afraid to break the silence.

He didn’t reply. Instead, he stood and walked straight to the bathroom without a word.

The sound of running water filled the room.

Lena’s chest tightened. It wasn’t anger she saw in his eyes it was guilt. But guilt for what?

She wrapped the blanket around herself, staring blankly at the closed bathroom door. “Why does it feel like he’s hiding something from me?” she whispered.

…

“Lena!” Clara’s soft voice echoed as soon as Lena stepped into the hallway. “You look pale again.”

Lena forced a faint smile. “I’m fine. Just didn’t sleep much.”

Clara frowned. “You’re not fine. You’ve been quiet since yesterday.” She lowered her voice and guided Lena toward the small sitting room near the garden. “Was it Mr. Damian again?”

Lena looked down, twisting her fingers nervously. The memory of what happened yesterday flashed through her vision, “that was hell!!!!” She said to herself. She wasn't going to tell Clara about it so she lied

Clara’s brows furrowed she saw her trance and shr asked. “What was it?”

Lena hesitated. “A box. I didn’t open it. I was too scared.”

Clara’s face turned pale for a second. “You did the right thing. Don’t touch anything he leaves for you. Damian doesn’t do kind gestures.”

Lena nodded silently, her throat tightening. “Clara… do you ever feel like this house has secrets no one wants to talk about?”

Clara’s lips pressed into a thin line. “This house doesn’t have secrets, Lena.”

She looked away. “It has ghosts that never left.”

Lena froze. “Ghosts?”

Before Clara could reply, a voice interrupted sharply.

“Lena.”

Both women turned. Standing at the end of the hall was Mrs. Blackwood.

“Come with me,” Mrs. Blackwood ordered coldly.

Her tone held no warmth. The hall felt colder with her in it. Her hair was perfectly styled, her black dress neat and crisp just like her presence.

Lena followed quietly into the private tea room. The older woman didn’t offer her a seat.

“Do you know what kind of woman ruins peace between brothers?” Mrs. Blackwood asked suddenly.

Lena looked up, confused. “I don’t understand, ma’am.”

“Don’t pretend to be innocent.” Her voice cut through the air like a knife. “You walk around this house with those quiet eyes, making people believe you’re fragile. But you’ve brought nothing but division since you arrived.”

Lena blinked fast, her eyes burning. “I never meant to cause...”

“Silence!” Mrs. Blackwood’s tone rose slightly. “You think I don’t see how both my sons look at you? You think I don’t know how Damian watches you like a possession he already owns?”

Lena’s breath hitched.

Mrs. Blackwood leaned closer, her eyes sharp and cruel. “Let me warn you, girl. My husband built this empire with blood and power, and I will not watch it fall because of a woman who doesn’t belong here.”

The words cut deep.

Lena swallowed hard, her voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“Then prove it,” Mrs. Blackwood said coldly, turning away. “Stay out of their path. And if you must survive here…” she paused, glaring over her shoulder, “…learn to obey without question.”

The sound of her heels faded down the corridor, leaving Lena trembling alone.

…

At Damian's office, he was having a glass of wine in jubilation for yesterday's victory.

He was happy he hurt darius. Just then macus exclaimed, drawing back his attention.

“Velvet Crown’s numbers keep climbing,” Marcus said with hesitation, his tablet in hand. “It’s overtaking the car business again, sir.”

Damian’s eyes darkened. “My father left him that business because he had a passion for pretty clothes and perfumes. But it was my power that built this family’s name.”

Marcus adjusted his tie nervously. “Should I look into ways to slow down Velvet Crown’s exports?”

Damian gave a low, dangerous chuckle. “No, Marcus. I’ll destroy it another way.”

Marcus tilted his head. “How, sir?”

Damian smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Darius has one weakness…her.”

“You mean Lena?”

“Of course.” His voice dripped with venom. “I have seen how broken Darius was for her,” he said with a smirk.

“I'll use her till he uses velvet crown as her ransome” he smiled

Marcus hesitated. “And if she resists?”

Damian’s eyes flashed. “Then she’ll learn what resistance costs in my world.”

The silence that followed was thick with malice.

Outside, thunder rumbled faintly like the sky itself recoiled from his words.

…

At the Velvet Crown headquarters, the atmosphere was the opposite calm, elegant, yet filled with quiet determination.

Ethan, Darius’s loyal assistant, entered with a soft knock. “Sir, the new skincare line just went viral overnight. The numbers are unbelievable.”

Darius barely looked up from his paperwork. “That’s good. Keep production steady. No shortcuts.”

“Yes, sir.” Ethan hesitated. “You don’t seem happy about the success.”

Darius sighed quietly. “Success doesn’t mean peace, Ethan.”

The young man frowned. “Is it because of your brother again?”

Darius’s pen stilled. For a long moment, he said nothing. Finally, he looked up with tired eyes. “There’s always a cost to being born into this family.”

Ethan lowered his voice. “Do you think Mr. Damian will try to take over again?”

Darius gave a faint smile. “He’s already trying. But this time…” He leaned back, staring out the window at the morning light. “…I won’t give him what he wants so easily.”

…

The night air was cold again. Lena sat by her window, staring at the stars.

The mansion was quiet, but her heart wasn’t.

Her mind replayed the grandmother’s words, Clara’s warning, and Mrs. Blackwood’s hatred. Every piece pointed to one truth something dark hid behind this family’s wealth and silence.

She clenched her fists. “I may be powerless now,” she whispered to herself, “but not forever.”

Her eyes burned with a new kind of fire.

“I’ll uncover the truth,” she said softly. “About Damian. About Darius. About their father. And when I do…”

The wind outside howled gently, almost echoing her words.

But somewhere down the hall, unseen in the dark, someone else had heard her whisper.

Her voice trembled, but the determination in it was sharp.

“…I’ll break free from this cage they call a marriage.”