Chapter Four

    The Blackwood mansion was eerily quiet in the morning.

    

    

     Almost too quiet.

    

    

     Elara had barely slept. Fragments of the night's memories haunted her, scenes she desperately wished she could forget. By the time the first light seeped through the towering windows, she had already given up on trying to sleep.

    

    

     She wrapped a light cardigan around her shoulders and quietly left her room.

    

    

     Maybe a cup of tea would soothe her nerves.

    

    

     The mansion's hallways stretched endlessly, marble floors shimmering in the pale morning light. Even her footsteps sounded strange, as if they belonged to someone else.

    

    

     As she approached the kitchen, muffled voices drifted through the slightly open door.

    

    

     Staff.

    

    

     They hadn't noticed her.

    

    

     Elara slowed her pace.

    

    

     "I still don't understand it," a maid whispered.

    

    

     Another responded softly, "None of us do."

    

    

     A brief pause stretched between them.

    

    

     "Mr. Blackwood could have married anyone."

    

    

     "Exactly."

    

    

     "He's always surrounded by beautiful women."

    

    

     A conspiratorial whisper followed.

    

    

     "And he ends up with… her."

    

    

     Laughter echoed softly.

    

    

     Elara hesitated, just before the doorway.

    

    

     "She's not exactly what you'd expect beside someone like him," the first maid said.

    

    

     "Not exactly?" someone scoffed softly. "She's twice the size of the women he usually dates."

    

    

     More laughter.

    

    

     Elara's fingers clenched around her cardigan sleeve.

    

    

     "I saw Miss Elena here last night," another maid added.

    

    

     "Of course she came."

    

    

     "She's always been close to Mr. Blackwood."

    

    

     "And honestly," a voice said almost thoughtfully, "she fits his world much better."

    

    

     "Elegant."

    

     "Beautiful."

    

     "Exactly the kind of woman people expect him to marry."

    

    

     A pause followed.

    

    

     Then a quiet voice said—

    

    

     "Not someone like Mrs. Blackwood."

    

    

     The words hit her like small stones in her chest.

    

    

     For a moment, she debated walking inside anyway.

    

    

     Pretending she hadn't heard.

    

    

     But her feet refused to move.

    

    

     Instead, she turned silently and walked away, unnoticed.

    

    

     Her phone buzzed a few minutes later.

    

    

     Elara sat on the edge of the bed, eyes fixed on the unfamiliar number blinking on the screen.

    

    

     She hesitated, then answered.

    

    

     "Hello?"

    

    

     A deep, commanding voice responded.

    

    

     "Elara."

    

    

     She recognized it instantly.

    

    

     "Mr. Blackwood?"

    

    

     Edward Blackwood chuckled softly.

    

    

     "You can call me Grandfather now."

    

    

     Elara felt a flush of embarrassment.

    

    

     "Right... I'm sorry."

    

    

     "Just checking on you," he said.

    

    

     Her surprise was evident.

    

    

     "Check on me?"

    

    

     "Yes."

    

    

     His tone was calm, deliberate.

    

    

     "The last twenty-four hours haven't been easy."

    

    

     Elara struggled to find an honest response without sounding ungrateful.

    

    

     "I'm managing," she replied carefully.

    

    

     He paused.

    

    

     "Aaron can be… difficult."

    

    

     She looked at the carpet.

    

    

     That was one way to put it.

    

    

     "He was raised to believe that business and control matter most," Edward explained. "Emotions weren't encouraged."

    

    

     She listened quietly.

    

    

     "I know this marriage was sudden," he added, "but I need you to be patient with him."

    

    

     Patience.

    

    

     The word echoed softly in her mind. After last night, it felt like a tall order.

    

    

     Yet she responded politely.

    

    

     "I'll try."

    

    

     "Good."

    

    

     A faint rustling sounded from his side of the line.

    

    

     "I've arranged something for you," he said.

    

    

     "For me?"

    

    

     "Yes."

    

    

     A hint of amusement slipped into his voice.

    

    

     "Your driver will arrive shortly."

    

    

     Elara frowned.

    

    

     "Why?"

    

    

     "To bring you something."

    

    

     "What kind of something?"

    

    

     "You'll see."

    

    

     Twenty minutes later, the doorbell chimed. A staff member handed her a small velvet envelope.

    

    

     Inside was a sleek black card.

    

    

     Her eyes widened—she recognized its significance.

    

    

     An unlimited credit card.

    

    

     Her phone buzzed again.

    

    

     "Elara?" Edward's voice called.

    

    

     "I just received the card," she responded.

    

    

     "Good."

    

    

     "I can't accept this," she said instantly,eling.

    

    

     "It's simply a credit card."

    

    

     "A very expensive one."

    

    

     "You're my granddaughter-in-law now," he said calmly.

    

    

     "And that makes you family."

    

    

     Elara shook her head even though he couldn't see.

    

    

     "I don't need anything."

    

    

     "That's not the point."

    

    

     She hesitated.

    

    

     "I'm not comfortable spending that much money."

    

    

     "You'll learn."

    

    

     "Mr. Blackwood—"

    

    

     "Elara," he said more firmly, "take it."

    

    

     She exhaled softly.

    

    

     "But why?"

    

    

     Edward paused.

    

    

     "Because the house can be lonely."

    

    

     The honesty in his voice surprised her.

    

    

     "Go out today," he continued. "Buy what you want. Explore the city. Do something outside that mansion."

    

    

     Elara looked again at the card.

    

    

     "I still feel strange about it."

    

    

     "That feeling will pass."

    

    

     She hesitated again.

    

    

     "Please," he added gently, "consider it a small welcome gift."

    

    

     Finally, she nodded.

    

    

     "Alright."

    

    

     "Good."

    

    

     She slipped the card back into the envelope.

    

    

     Before hanging up, Edward spoke again.

    

    

     "Elara."

    

    

     "Yes?"

    

    

     "You deserve to be there."

    

    

     Those words caught her off guard.

    

    

     No one in the mansion had ever said anything like that.

    

    

     She swallowed softly.

    

    

     "Thank you."

    

    

     After the call, she sat quietly on the bed's edge, the black card heavy in her hands—not because of its monetary value,

    

    

     but because it felt like her first act of genuine kindness since entering the Blackwood world.

    

    

     She exhaled slowly.

    

    

     Perhaps stepping outside the mansion for a few hours wouldn't hurt.

    

    

     A little distance might clear her mind.

    

    

     What she didn't yet realize… was that venturing outside the Blackwood estate would reveal her to a new kind of cruelty