All Chapters of Fated In Darkness: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

CarsonI stood the moment he walked in. My father’s presence always commanded respect, and I wasn’t about to break tradition. Grant and Willis greeted him formally, then quickly excused themselves, sensing the shift in the air.As soon as the door shut behind them, my father’s expression darkened.“Do you mind telling me why Adrian Balshov is asking for an apology?” he snapped, wasting no time with pleasantries.I exhaled through my nose, cursing silently. Of course this would be the first thing he brought up.“I didn’t get there in time,” I admitted. “It was a questioning gone wrong.”He nodded slowly, but it wasn’t approval—it was disappointment settling in.“He isn’t even part of the Strigoi clan,” he said. “So why take the fight to his doorstep? Why drag him into it?”“It was a mistake,” I said, standing my ground. “And I plan to apologise to him personally to make it right—”“You will do no such thing,” he growled, cutting me off.I tensed but stayed silent.“I’m tired of those th

Natalie I didn’t need to stop by my apartment—everything was already in place. My weekend bag was packed. I'd arranged everything with the quiet hope that Adrian would pick me up from my mother’s house tomorrow, just like he’d promised. When I got home, the sky was already beginning to shift into dusk. Two hours left before the ball. My mother greeted me with her usual calm, and without needing to ask, she helped me get ready—fixing my hair, touching up my makeup. I hadn’t planned to make a statement tonight, but with the chance Adrian might be there, I couldn’t help myself. Even if I wouldn’t say it out loud—I wanted to look good. Not just because of him, but maybe… because of what he made me feel. My gown was cream, soft as breath and stitched with tiny pearls that caught the light when I moved. It flowed around me, elegant and silent, with a slit running high up my right thigh—subtle, but bold. It showed more skin than a short dress ever could, and I wasn’t used to that. My ha

Natalie“Be on your best behavior,” Uncle Mike said under his breath, releasing my arm like I was a marionette he no longer needed to control.Without another word, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the crowd with the ease of someone who belonged here—who thrived in these quiet, manipulative circles.I stayed where I was, watching the people who lingered in the hall. They weren’t students. Their eyes were too calculating, their smiles too strategic. Prospective families, maybe.Scoping out Cainebrielle, weighing its prestige against their ambition. This—this glittering room full of artifice and half-truths—was where futures were brokered.I couldn’t help but wonder if Uncle Mike had once stood in a place like this for me. Had he shaken hands with the right devils? Made promises I didn’t know I’d be paying for?But it wasn’t Mr. Graham’s bitterness that haunted me—it was that one sentence. “Wished my great-grandfather…” Then silence. Cut off deliberately. Regret tangled in hi

Natalie “Lord Dimitri Orlov, Lady Martina Nikolson, Sir Lancly Warlock.” The announcement rang out like the toll of a bell, deep and ceremonial. My stomach tightened instinctively. And there he was. Dimitri Orlov. The same hauntingly elegant figure who had glided through the Cainebrielle Ball like some ancient noble stepped out of a painting. Flanking him were two others—a woman with icy composure and a man with a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes. All three of them were beautiful. But not in a comforting way. They had the kind of beauty that made people uneasy. Pale, ethereal, almost fragile-looking, like they’d been carved from marble and never intended to bleed. Their skin was so pasty it bordered on unnatural—like sunlight hadn’t touched them in years. It made you wonder: Where do they live? How do they live? Caves? Castles wrapped in shadow? Subterranean estates? If I were close to them—which I wasn’t—I’d tell them to book a vacation somewhere tropical. Let the sun

Natalie“You’re ready to settle down?” Lancly asked, his tone laced with disbelief and amusement, like the very idea was some kind of inside joke.Dimitri didn’t blink. “Why shouldn’t I be?” he said, voice smooth, deliberate. “Especially when presented with such beauty.”His eyes stayed locked on me. Possessive. Calculating.I glanced quickly at Uncle Mike, searching his face for something—denial, resistance, anything. But he wouldn’t even look at me.Was this it?Was this the man he intended to trade me to?The infamous “circle” my family supposedly moved in. The one I was never meant to question. I always assumed it meant political leverage or academic prestige.Not aristocrats with teeth in their smiles and old blood in their veins.We weren’t like them. We never had been.I opened my mouth to speak. “I’m already—”Uncle Mike’s hand gripped my wrist under the table, sharp and sudden.“Your mother would want you to behave,” he said quietly, with venom in every word.My stomach twist