Lucia barely slept. The message from Elise sat on her phone like a wound that wouldn't close. She had read it so many times that she could see the words even with her eyes shut.
You don't know the full story. Meet me tomorrow. Alone.
The sunlight creeping through her curtains felt too bright for a day that had started with a threat. She sat at the edge of the bed, staring at the floor, trying to breathe through the heavy knot in her chest. Everything about this house felt too quiet. She hated quiet. Quiet meant control. Quiet meant someone else was pulling the strings.
A knock came at the door.
"Lucia," her mother called softly. "Breakfast. Now."
She dragged herself up, put on a cream dress, and brushed her hair. Her fingers shook a little, but her face didn't show it. She walked out of the room, already wearing the mask they had trained her to wear.
The dining room was crowded again. Reporters, lawyers, men in suits with voices that filled the air like smoke. Bianca sat at the head of the table with her polished smile. Damien sat across from Lucia, neat and cold, like last night never happened.
Lucia met his eyes for a moment. He looked at her with the same unreadable calm, and it made something inside her tighten.
"Today matters," Bianca whispered as she took Lucia's hand under the table. Her voice was gentle, but her grip was not. "Smile."
Lucia did. She smiled for the cameras. For the lawyers. For everyone who thought this was a love story.
But inside, she burned.
When the reporters finally left, the room emptied fast. Bianca kissed Lucia on the cheek before leaving, too, pretending everything was perfect. That was how Bianca always won. She never yelled. She cut with quiet.
Lucia stood from her seat and walked straight to Damien. She didn't want another night of pretending.
"Why are you doing this?" she asked.
He looked at her without blinking. "Doing what?"
"This performance. This mask. All of it. You make it look so easy."
"It's called survival."
She let out a sharp laugh. "No. It's a lie. And you're good at it."
He stayed silent. It was worse than denial.
"Tell me the truth," she said.
"You don't want to know."
"Yes, I do."
Damien's jaw shifted. His silence had weight. It wasn't fear. It was someone who had already chosen the lie.
Lucia shook her head slowly. "You want me blind. Just like them."
"Lucia"
"Don't say my name like it matters," she cut in.
Something in his expression cracked, just for a second. Not enough to trust him, but enough to know there was more behind the mask.
"You think I have a choice?" he said. His voice was low now. "I don't."
"And neither do I. That's the problem."
Her throat felt tight, but she didn't let it show. She stepped back and walked away before he could say another word.
He stayed there, hands clenched at his sides. He didn't follow her. He never did.
Later that afternoon, Lucia stood by her window, looking out at the sea. The message from Elise was still there. It wasn't a threat anymore. It was a promise.
"I'll find out," she whispered to herself. "With or without you."
The wind picked up outside. The storm was coming. And this time, she wasn't running from it.
Monaco, Afternoon
The sun was high, but Lucia felt cold.
She left the house through the back, wearing black glasses and a plain coat. She had grown up in a world where secrets never traveled in daylight, but today she didn't care.
The café sat at the edge of the harbor, tucked between two old stone buildings. It was quiet, almost too quiet. Boats rocked softly on the water. The wind smelled like salt and danger.
Elise was already there. She sat near the window, dressed in black, her hair loose. She didn't look nervous. She looked like someone who had seen storms and learned to enjoy the rain.
Lucia stepped inside and walked straight to her. They didn't shake hands. Elise only tilted her head slightly. "I wasn't sure you'd come."
"I shouldn't have," Lucia replied. "But I need answers."
"Then sit." Elise's smile was calm, but it carried something sharp beneath it.
Lucia sat down across from her. The air between them felt like a live wire.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The sound of waves outside filled the silence. Elise sipped her coffee, slow and steady, like she had all the time in the world.
"You're marrying him," Elise said finally.
Lucia didn't flinch. "So, it seems."
"Do you love him?"
Lucia looked her straight in the eyes. "Do you?"
A small smile tugged at Elise's lips. "I did once. Until his family decided I wasn't good enough."
Lucia's breath caught for half a second. She hated that the answer stung. "Why tell me this?"
"Because no one warned me when I stepped into their world," Elise said softly. "They smile. They promise safety. But once they close the doors, you stop existing as a person. You become an investment."
Her voice didn't shake, but her eyes did.
Lucia folded her arms on the table. "I know who they are. I grew up in the same kind of family."
"Knowing isn't the same as surviving it," Elise said.
Lucia hated how true that sounded.
Elise leaned forward. "Damien isn't your enemy. But he isn't your savior either. He'll protect the empire before he protects you."
Lucia stared at her. "Why are you warning me?"
"Because I still know him," Elise whispered. "And because I know what happened that night."
Lucia's stomach turned. "What night?"
"The night everything changed. The night someone died."
The words hit like cold water. Elise reached into her bag and placed a photo on the table, face down. Lucia stared at it without moving. She didn't want to touch it, but she had to. Her fingers brushed the edges. When she turned it over, the air left her lungs.
A crime scene. Blood. A young man lying near the sea wall. A familiar sign on the corner of the photo, the Vexley estate.
Lucia's heartbeat thudded against her chest.
"Damien was there," Elise said quietly. "And so was his father."
Lucia looked up sharply. "Why are you telling me this now?"
"Because soon it won't be a whisper," Elise said. "It will be a headline."
Lucia stood from her chair, chest tight. "You're trying to destroy him."
"I don't have to," Elise said. "The truth will do that on its own."
Lucia turned to leave, but Elise's voice followed her like a shadow.
"You still have time to run," she said. "I didn't."
Lucia walked out of the café fast. The sun outside felt wrong. Her hands were still holding the photo even though she wanted to throw it into the sea. The image wouldn't leave her mind. It crawled into her chest and refused to leave.
She reached the street and stopped. The city kept moving like nothing had changed, but for Lucia, everything had.
Damien had lied. Not just about Elise. About something darker.
She gripped the photo tighter. Her world had just cracked open.
And she was not the kind of woman who ignored cracks.