Chapter Six: First Crack

Amara didn’t reply to the message.

She stared at her phone until the screen dimmed, the words burning themselves into her thoughts. You don’t belong with him. The warning felt less like a threat and more like a test—one she refused to fail.

By morning, she had made a decision.

If this marriage was going to break her, it wouldn’t be because she stayed silent.

She rose early, dressed simply, and stepped into the kitchen where sunlight spilled across polished counters. Lucas Harrington was already there, standing by the window with a cup of coffee, his posture rigid, his attention fixed on the city below.

“You’re up early,” he said without turning.

“So are you,” Amara replied.

He glanced at her then, assessing. “Did you sleep?”

“Enough.”

Lucas nodded once, as if that was all the concern he could afford. “We have a dinner tonight. Investors. You’ll need to attend.”

Amara set her phone on the counter. “Before that, we need to talk.”

Lucas’s gaze dropped to the phone, then lifted back to her face. “About what?”

“I received a message last night,” she said calmly. “From Selene.”

A flicker of irritation crossed his eyes. “She shouldn’t have contacted you.”

“She did,” Amara said. “And I won’t pretend it didn’t happen.”

Lucas set his cup down with deliberate care. “What did she say?”

“That I don’t belong with you,” Amara replied. “That I should walk away before I get hurt.”

Silence followed.

Lucas’s jaw tightened. “You can ignore her.”

“I won’t,” Amara said. “Not when she feels comfortable enough to threaten me.”

“That wasn’t a threat,” he said.

“Then what was it?” she asked. “Concern?”

Lucas looked away.

Amara took a breath. “I didn’t enter this marriage to compete with your past. I agreed to a contract, not a war.”

Lucas turned back to her, eyes sharp. “You knew my history wasn’t clean.”

“I knew you were hurt,” she replied. “I didn’t know you’d allow that hurt to bleed into my life.”

The words landed harder than she expected.

Lucas straightened. “Careful.”

“I am being careful,” Amara said quietly. “That’s why I’m speaking now.”

He studied her for a long moment, something unreadable shifting in his gaze. “Selene won’t interfere again.”

“You said that before.”

“And I’ll say it again,” Lucas replied. “Because it’s true.”

Amara nodded slowly. “Then prove it.”

That night, the dinner was held in a private room overlooking the river. Soft music played, glasses clinked, and polite conversation flowed easily. Amara sat beside Lucas, her posture composed, her smile practiced.

She played her role flawlessly.

Lucas noticed.

He noticed the way she listened more than she spoke, how she responded with calm confidence when addressed, how she never once looked uncertain. She wasn’t weak. She wasn’t a liability.

Halfway through the evening, Selene arrived.

Uninvited.

Her entrance was subtle, but deliberate. She greeted the investors with familiarity, laughter light and effortless. When her gaze landed on Lucas, something unspoken passed between them.

Then she turned to Amara.

“I hope I’m not intruding,” Selene said sweetly.

Amara smiled. “Of course not.”

Lucas stiffened. “Selene, this isn’t appropriate.”

“I disagree,” Selene replied calmly. “We’re all professionals here.”

She took a seat across from them.

Throughout the rest of the dinner, Selene’s attention remained fixed on Lucas. Every shared memory, every inside reference was a reminder of history Amara could never touch.

Until Amara spoke.

“I didn’t realize you were involved in the Harrington expansion,” she said lightly.

Selene paused. “I’m not.”

“Then I’m curious,” Amara continued. “Why you’re here.”

The table went quiet.

Lucas’s gaze snapped to Amara.

Selene’s smile thinned. “I was invited.”

“By whom?” Amara asked.

Another pause.

Lucas exhaled sharply. “Enough.”

But it was already too late.

Selene leaned forward. “You should be careful, Amara. You don’t understand how this world works.”

Amara met her gaze steadily. “Then perhaps it’s time someone explained it to me.”

Lucas stood abruptly. “We’re leaving.”

The drive home was tense, silent, heavy.

Once inside the apartment, Lucas turned to her, anger flashing in his eyes. “You crossed a line tonight.”

“I defended myself,” Amara replied. “Just like you told me to.”

“That wasn’t defense,” he said. “That was provocation.”

Amara took a step closer. “Then maybe you shouldn’t have brought your past into our present.”

The words hung between them, sharp and dangerous.

Lucas stared at her, something cracking beneath his composure.

“Don’t test me, Amara,” he said quietly.

She didn’t look away. “Then don’t underestimate me.”

For the first time since their marriage, Lucas Harrington didn’t have an answer.

And that terrified him.