Truth and Death

Chapter 1: Truth and Death

The divorce papers trembled in Aveline’s hands as she stood outside Damien’s apartment door. Her heart pounded — not with fear, but with a wild, breathless hope she hadn’t felt in years.

Finally. I’m free.

Free from Lucian Blackwell — the cold, commanding man her family had forced her to marry. Free from his suffocating silences, his watchful eyes, his iron grip on every corner of her life. They called him ruthless in the business world, and they weren’t wrong. Living with him had been like existing in a gilded cage — beautiful, but slowly starving for air.

But now, clutching these papers like a lifeline, she could breathe again.

And Damien — sweet, passionate Damien — would be waiting. They could finally be together, the way they were always meant to be, before her family’s ambitions had ripped them apart.

She had sacrificed everything for this moment. Endured Lucian’s cold indifference. Betrayed her marriage vows. Stolen company secrets to help Damien’s struggling business — all because she loved him. Because he had promised her a future filled with the warmth she had been denied.

Her finger hovered over the doorbell, then paused. Why announce myself? She wanted to see the joy on his face when she burst in with the news.

The key turned smoothly in the lock.

Aveline stepped inside, her smile already forming. The apartment gleamed in the afternoon light — marble floors, floor-to-ceiling windows, expensive art on every wall. All of it funded by the information she had fed him from Lucian’s company files.

But the words died in her throat.

Two pairs of shoes sat by the entrance. Damien’s Italian loafers. And beside them —

Red-soled Louboutins.

Aveline’s stomach clenched, but she forced herself to breathe. A business associate. That’s all. Damien has meetings all the time.

Yes. That had to be it.

She moved through the living room, still clutching the divorce papers like a shield. The apartment was quiet except for —

Was that... voices?

Coming from the bedroom.

No. Not voices. Sounds.

Aveline’s heart began to pound for an entirely different reason now. Her mind raced with excuses, explanations, anything to deny what her gut already knew. She was married — well, had been until an hour ago — so she recognized those sounds. The breathless gasps. The rhythmic creaking.

No. Please, no.

But her feet carried her forward anyway, drawn by some masochistic need to know the truth.

The bedroom door stood slightly ajar.

And then she heard it.

"Oh God, Damien! Harder!"

The voice that rang out was achingly familiar. High-pitched. Breathless. Ecstatic.

Katie.

Her best friend. Katie.

The world tilted sideways. Aveline’s vision swam as she peered through the gap in the door.

There, on the bed she had fantasized about sharing with Damien, lay her best friend — completely naked, blonde hair splayed across the pillows. And above her, equally naked, was Damien, his body moving with a passion Aveline hadn’t seen in months.

"God, you feel so good," Damien groaned.

Katie laughed, a sound of pure satisfaction. "So what’s your plan for that stupid Aveline?"

Aveline’s blood turned to ice.

Damien didn’t even pause. "She’s too boring and foolish. Easy to manipulate. But I still have use for her — I need her to keep stealing information from that useless husband of hers. I don’t want her to divorce him yet. She’s more valuable as his wife."

The divorce papers slipped from Aveline’s numb fingers, fluttering to the floor.

Katie’s laughter pierced through the fog. "Can she even satisfy you like this? I bet she can’t. I bet she couldn’t even satisfy him. How could she ever think you actually loved her?"

Something inside Aveline snapped.

She burst through the door, her hands already fumbling for her phone. The two figures on the bed froze mid-motion, shock painted across their faces.

But Aveline was faster. Her fingers flew across her phone screen — snap, snap, snap — capturing image after damning image. Then she switched to video, her voice shaking but clear.

"Say that again," she demanded, holding up the recording phone. "Tell me again how stupid I am. How you’ve been using me. Go on — I’m recording everything!"

"Aveline —" Damien scrambled to cover himself, his face cycling through shock, panic, and finally — rage.

"You think you’re so clever?" Aveline’s voice cracked, but she kept the phone steady. "You think I’m stupid? Well, I have evidence now. Everything you just said. Everything you just did. And when I upload this, both your careers are finished!"

Katie clutched the bedsheet to her chest, her actress’s composure crumbling. "You wouldn’t dare —"

"Wouldn’t I?" Aveline’s laugh was bitter, broken. "Katie, you’re a rising star. One scandal and your acting career is over before it begins. And you, Damien —" She turned the camera on him. "A businessman who seduces married women to steal corporate secrets? Who do you think will invest in you after this?"

Damien’s expression darkened. In one fluid motion, he lunged across the room.

"Give me that phone!"

His hand cracked across Aveline’s face with enough force to snap her head sideways. Pain exploded across her cheek, stars bursting in her vision.

She stumbled backward, disoriented, her foot catching on the edge of the bed. Her body twisted as she fell — and the corner of the glass coffee table rushed up to meet her.

The impact was sickening. Glass shattered. Pain bloomed at the back of her skull, sharp and blinding.

Aveline crumpled to the floor, her phone skittering away. Through the haze of agony, she felt Damien snatch it up.

"Katie! Flush this. Now!" He tossed the phone toward the bed.

Katie caught it and ran toward the bathroom, her bare feet slapping against marble.

Aveline tried to push herself up, but her arms wouldn’t cooperate. Warm liquid trickled down the back of her neck. Blood. She was bleeding.

"Damien..." Her voice came out as a whisper. "How could you... I finally divorced him. For you. We can be together now. I can still help you. I’ll do anything —"

Damien crouched beside her, and for a moment, she saw something that looked almost like pity in his eyes.

Then he laughed.

It was a cruel, mocking sound that shattered whatever remained of her heart.

"You really are pathetic, aren’t you?" He grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. "Did you think I ever loved you? You were a means to an end, Aveline. A convenient idiot with access to Blackwell Industries’ secrets."

"But I —"

"You what? Loved me?" He released her roughly. "You’re nothing. You were always nothing. Just a spoiled brat who thought she was too good for her husband."

Tears burned in Aveline’s eyes. "I’ll expose you. I’ll tell everyone what you did —"

"Will you?" Damien’s smile was vicious. "And tell them what exactly? That you, a married woman, were having an affair? That you were stealing from your husband’s company to help your lover? Who do you think will be dragged through the mud first?"

Katie emerged from the bathroom, Aveline’s destroyed phone in hand. "It’s done. But Damien —" Her eyes widened as she pointed at Aveline’s wrist. "Her watch. It’s blinking!"

Aveline followed Katie’s gaze to the elegant smartwatch on her wrist. The one Lucian had insisted she wear at all times. The one she had forgotten to return after the divorce.

It was flashing red.

"Shit!" Damien’s face went pale. "That’s a tracker, isn’t it? One of those emergency alert systems?"

In the distance, sirens began to wail.

Katie grabbed Damien’s arm. "We have to go. Now!"

"Wait —" Aveline tried to reach for her watch, her fingers finally responding. If she could just activate the call function —

There. Her trembling fingers pressed the emergency button.

The watch screen lit up: CONNECTING TO LUCIAN BLACKWELL

"Where are you?" Lucian’s voice crackled through the tiny speaker, sharp with an urgency she had never heard from him before. "Aveline, where the hell are you?"

"L-Lucian —" Her voice was barely audible. "Help —"

"I’m tracking you now. Hold on, do you hear me? Hold on!"

But Damien and Katie were already scrambling into their clothes. Katie grabbed something from the bedside table — a lighter, a bottle of alcohol.

"No witnesses," Damien said coldly.

The smell of accelerant filled the air. Flames erupted across the bedroom curtains with terrifying speed.

"You’re insane!" Aveline tried to scream, but smoke was already filling her lungs.

They didn’t even look back as they ran.

The fire spread faster than Aveline could have imagined. Heat pressed against her skin, smoke choking her lungs. She tried to crawl, but her body wouldn’t obey. The head wound had weakened her too much.

This is how I die, she thought with bitter clarity. Alone. Betrayed. Stupid.

All the choices that had led her here flashed through her mind. Hating Lucian without really knowing him. Trusting Damien’s pretty words. Betraying her marriage for a fantasy.

If she had another chance... if she could do it all over again...

Her vision darkened at the edges. Through the roaring flames and her fading consciousness, she heard footsteps pounding up the stairs. A door crashing open.

"AVELINE!"

Lucian’s voice. Desperate. Raw.

Strong arms lifted her, cradling her against a chest she had pushed away a thousand times.

"Stay with me," Lucian commanded, his voice breaking in a way she had never heard before. "Don’t you dare die. Do you hear me? I won’t let you die. I don’t care if I have to defy fate itself — you’re not leaving. Not like this."

But darkness was claiming her, dragging her down into an abyss of regret and pain.

Her last coherent thought was a prayer, a desperate wish:

If I could go back... if I could do it all differently... I would. I swear I would.

Then there was nothing.

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