The silence between us hardened.
Lucien stood at the end of the corridor like a shadow carved into a man—phone still in his hand, jaw locked, eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made my skin prickle.
I didn't move.
If I did, something would break.
"You shouldn't be here," he said finally.
His voice was calm again. Too calm. Like he'd shoved whatever reaction he'd had back into whatever locked room he kept his emotions in.
"I live here," I replied, my voice steadier than I felt. "Remember?"
A muscle ticked in his jaw.
"That doesn't give you permission to wander," he said. "Especially at night."
I laughed softly, the sound brittle. "Funny. I was just about to say the same thing about eavesdropping on my life."
His eyes darkened.
"You heard something you weren't meant to," he said.
I took a step forward before I could stop myself. "You said my mother's name."
His expression didn't change - but the air did. Thickened. Pressed.
"That conversation didn't concern you," he replied.
"She was my mother," I snapped. "Everything about her concerns me."
For the first time, irritation cracked through his composure.
"You don't understand what you're dealing with," Lucien said. "You think knowledge equals power. It doesn't. Sometimes it just gets people killed."
Fear flickered through me - but anger burned brighter.
"Stop doing that," I said. "Stop talking like you're the only one who knows how dangerous the world is. I grew up in it. I watched it swallow people whole."
He studied me for a long moment, something sharp and searching in his gaze.
"Yes," he said quietly. "You did."
The way he said it - like it confirmed something - made my stomach twist.
"Then explain," I demanded. "Explain why I'm here. Explain what you're hiding."
Lucien stepped closer. Not invading my space. Not touching me.
Just close enough.
"You want rules?" he asked.
I frowned. "What?"
"This house runs on rules," he continued. "They keep you alive. Since you seem determined to test boundaries, we'll start now."
My pulse quickened. "I'm not your employee."
"No," he agreed. "You're not."
That pause.
That look.
It made my breath hitch.
"But while you live under my roof," he went on, "you will follow my rules."
I folded my arms. "And if I don't?"
"Then this arrangement ends," he said. "And so does my protection."
There it was again.
Protection like a leash.
"Fine," I said. "Let's hear them."
Lucien's gaze flicked briefly to my crossed arms, then back to my face.
"Rule one," he said. "You don't leave the estate without my knowledge."
"I'm not a prisoner."
"Rule two," he continued smoothly, ignoring me. "You don't speak to the press. To strangers. To anyone asking questions about you, your past, or me."
"So… isolation," I said.
"Survival," he corrected.
"Rule three," he added, "you don't investigate."
My heart stuttered. "Investigate what?"
"Anything," he said flatly. "Especially your mother."
The word landed like ice water.
I laughed, sharp and disbelieving. "You can't seriously think you get to tell me not to..."
"I can," he interrupted, his voice dropping. "And I am."
"Why?" I whispered.
His eyes held mine. Dark. Unyielding.
"Because if you dig," he said, "you won't like what you find."
A chill crept up my spine.
"And rule four?" I asked quietly.
Lucien hesitated.
Just for a second.
"You don't fall in love with me."
The words hit harder than they had any right to.
I stared at him, stunned. Then a laugh escaped me - real this time, breathless and incredulous.
"Trust me," I said. "That won't be a problem."
Something unreadable flickered in his eyes.
"We'll see," he said.
He stepped back, the moment snapping like a pulled wire.
"Go back to your room," Lucien added. "It's late."
I turned away, my mind racing, my chest tight.
"Elara."
I stopped.
"Break any of these rules," he said in a low voice, "and I won't be able to protect you from the consequences."
I didn't turn around. "From who?"
He didn't answer.
Sleep didn't come.
I lay in the unfamiliar bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying every word, every look. My mother's face rose unbidden in my mind - soft smile, tired eyes, the way she used to hum when she thought no one was listening.
If you dig, you won't like what you find.
The thought gnawed at me.
Around two in the morning, I gave up and sat up, wrapping my arms around my knees. The house was silent again, but it no longer felt empty.
It felt watchful.
My phone buzzed suddenly in my hand.
I nearly dropped it.
One bar of signal flickered to life.
UNKNOWN NUMBER:You shouldn't be here.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
ME: Who is this?
The typing bubble appeared almost instantly.
UNKNOWN NUMBER:Someone who knows what happens to girls who get too close to the Blackwoods.
My fingers trembled as I typed.
ME: How did you get this number?
A pause.
Then...
UNKNOWN NUMBER:Ask Lucien what really happened to your mother.
My breath caught.
Before I could respond, the signal vanished. The screen went dark.
I stared at it, pulse roaring in my ears.
A knock sounded at my door.
I flinched. "Yes?"
The door opened without waiting for permission.
Lucien stepped inside.
He looked different - shirt unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves rolled up again, his control visibly strained. His gaze went straight to my face, then to my phone clenched in my hand.
"Who contacted you?" he asked.
My throat felt tight. "Someone who knows about my mother."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop.
Lucien closed the door behind him slowly.
"Give me the phone," he said.
"No."
His eyes snapped to mine. "Elara - "
"You don't get to take everything from me," I said, my voice shaking. "Not my questions. Not even my past."
He took a step closer.
"You are not ready for the answers," he said. "And whoever messaged you just crossed a line."
"Why are they afraid of you?" I demanded.
Lucien stopped.
For a moment, he looked… tired. Not cruel. Not cold.
Just burdened.
"Because," he said quietly, "people die when they underestimate what my family protects."
My chest tightened. "Protects… or hides?"
Silence stretched between us.
Then Lucien reached into his pocket and pulled out a slim black folder.
He set it on the bed.
"You want answers?" he said. "This is where it starts."
My heart pounded as I stared at the folder.
"What is it?" I whispered.
Lucien met my gaze.
"Your file," he said. "Everything we know about you."
A chill ran through me.
"And what you don't know yet," he added.
My fingers hovered over the folder.
Something told me that once I opened it -
There would be no going back.
And Lucien Blackwood was watching me like a man who already knew exactly how this would end.