The silence that followed was heavy.
Damian’s eyes softened barely, almost imperceptibly but he didn’t move.
For a moment, he looked like he wanted to say something, his jaw tightening and loosening as if fighting against the words that threatened to spill.
But in the end, he didn’t.
What could he possibly tell her?
That he had footage of Lily getting into someone’s car and had no idea who it was?
That he barely remembered her sister from the gala last year, and that he suspected his own cousin might be involved in her disappearance?
None of it mattered until he had proof.
Proof that Lily was alive.
Proof that this wasn’t all for nothing.
So instead, he did what he always did, he turned away.
Ava’s chest ached.
She blinked hard, forcing back the tears burning behind her eyes.
“Please,” she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath.
“You promised me I’d get answers.”
Damian paused, his back still turned to her.
“And you will,” he said quietly.
“But not tonight.”
With that, he walked down the long corridor, his shadow stretching across the marble floor until it vanished completely at the end of the hallway.
Ava stood there, trembling.
The air around her felt cold and heavy with the kind of silence that pressed against her lungs.
For the first time since she had arrived, she realized just how alone she truly was in this house and how deeply she had gotten tangled in Damian Cross’s world.
She reached up and wiped the tears from her face with shaky fingers.
She had almost broken down in front of him.
Almost.
But even if she had, it wouldn’t have made a difference.
Damian Cross didn’t care.
He cared about himself, his secrets, his control, his image.
That was all.
A bitter laugh escaped her.
Everyone said he was cold and selfish, that he used people’s problems to his advantage.
She had tried to tell herself they were wrong, that maybe there was something more beneath that calm, unshakable surface.
But now?
Now she wasn’t so sure.
Her thoughts spiraled.
Her pulse was racing, her chest tight.
She ran her fingers through her hair, tugging lightly as if that could stop her thoughts from spinning.
She had no one, no one on her side in this house.
Everyone listened to Damian.
Everyone obeyed him.
And she was just… there.
Stuck.
Waiting for answers that might never come.
Her gaze shifted down the dim hallway toward the forbidden wing, the West Wing, the one he had caught her snooping around in.
Something about that side of the house always pulled at her, like a shadow she couldn’t ignore.
He said not to go there.
But every instinct in her screamed that the answers she wanted, the truth about Lily were there.
She took a deep breath, steadying herself, her heart hammering in her chest.
“If he won’t tell me,” she whispered to herself, “I’ll find out on my own.”
The house was eerily quiet. Follow the newest chapters on g.com.
Her bare feet barely made a sound on the marble floor as she made her way toward the West Wing.
The air seemed colder there, almost like the walls themselves were holding their breath.
When she reached the first locked door, she hesitated.
It was one of those heavy oak doors that looked like it had been there for centuries.
She tried the handle locked.
Of course it was still locked.
Ava took out the hair pain from her hair, Her fingers trembled as she held it.
She wasn’t sure if she was shaking from fear or adrenaline.
Maybe both.
She slid the pin into the lock, it took her more than a minute but finally there was a click..
The door creaked open.
she pushed open the door and stepped inside slowly,
Ava turned on her phone’s flashlight to guiding her through the dark room, her heart racing in her chest because she knew she could be caught at any seconds, but she decided to push those thoughts to the back of her mind.
when would she get the chance to do this again..
The room was empty at least at first glance.
There were a few old boxes stacked in a corner, some draped furniture.
She checked every corner, even behind the curtains, her heart racing faster with each second.
Nothing.
She exhaled shakily, her frustration bubbling.
“There has to be something,” she whispered.
She opened one of the boxes.
Inside there were old files ledgers, property papers, and receipts.
Nothing useful.
The next room she tried was the same: locked, then opened, then empty.
She felt a chill crawl down her spine.
Every room she entered was the same lifeless, clean and almost staged.
As if someone had made sure there was nothing to find.
And the strangest part?
The air didn’t smell of dust or neglect.
There wasn’t a single speck of dust in the room like it had been recently cleaned and not weeks ago.
Her chest tightened.
Someone had been in these rooms recently.
Suddenly, a sound echoed behind her, a faint click, like a lock that was sliding into place.
She turned around, her flashlight trembling, but saw nothing.
The hallway stretched out in silence, dark and endless.
Her throat went dry.
“Hello?” she called out softly, but her voice came back to her in an eerie echo.
She shook her head.
“Get a grip, Ava,” she whispered to herself.
“You’re just imagining things.”
She turned back toward the sixth door on the hallway, the one close to the room that contained those paintings at the very end.
It was larger, darker, and unlike the others, it had an electronic keypad beside it.
Her heart pounded harder.
When did this happen!
the last time she came here just a few days ago it had the same lock as the rest of the doors.
She scoffed, were they really trying to hide something.
She tried pressing random numbers, but it beeped angrily each time.
Then she froze.
A faint sound like static came from above her.
There, tucked in the corner of the ceiling, was a small black security camera.
And for a split second, the tiny red light blinked.
Her heart sank.
He was watching.
She stepped back slowly, realization hitting her like a wave of cold water.
Damian had seen everything, her sneaking through the hallways, breaking in, trying doors she wasn’t supposed to touch.
and even though he hadn’t seen her yet, he would eventually see her.
Her breathing quickened.
“Oh God…”
She turned and walked away quuckly, Her footsteps echoed through the empty corridor as she made her way back toward her room, her pulse thrumming in her ears.
She didn’t stop until she reached her door and locked it behind her.
She leaned against it, gasping for air.
Her chest heaved, and for the first time that night, she felt the true weight of what she had done.
______________
______________
Across the house, in his study, Damian sat watching the monitors.
The screens glowed softly in the dark room, illuminating his sharp features.
He had seen everything.
From the moment she slipped into the West Wing to the second she ran back down the hallway.
On the monitor, the camera caught her standing by her door, her hands trembling, her breath uneven.
She looked… terrified.
But there was something else too, something he hadn’t expected.
Determination.
he had no idea she would go back there after that night, she was truly more persistent than he had imagined.
His lips twitched slightly.
Not quite a smile, but close.
She was braver than he thought.
Reckless, yes but not stupid.
There was something in her eyes when she searched those rooms, something raw and desperate.
He recognized that look because he’d seen it before in himself.
He leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on the screen.
“Curious thing,” he murmured to himself, almost amused.
He should’ve gone down there, should’ve stopped her the moment she touched that first door.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he let her look.
Let her feel the weight of not finding anything.
It was better that way.
A lesson.
Still, something about the way she looked up at that last locked door stayed in his mind longer than he wanted it to.
He turned off the screen.
The office fell back into darkness, the only sound the faint ticking of the clock on the wall.
And yet, even as he tried to push the thought away, he couldn’t stop picturing her standing in that hallway, her eyes wide and defiant, her pulse visible in her throat, her courage far too dangerous for her own good.
Damian exhaled slowly, almost to himself.
“You really don’t know what you’re getting into, Ava.”
But deep down, part of him knew he wouldn’t stop her next time either.