Episode 7: The First Lie
357 Words
Morning crept into the penthouse like a thief—silent and golden. Rhea sat on the edge of a velvet chaise, still in her dress from the night before. The ring on her finger felt heavier in daylight.
She hadn’t slept.
Across the room, the door opened. Damien walked in, crisp in a navy suit like the night hadn’t touched him at all.
“Sleep well, Mrs. Moreaux?” he asked, voice smooth as ever.
Rhea stood, spine straight. “I want to see Julian. You promised.”
“I said you would,” he replied. “But not until I say so.”
Her nails dug into her palms. “I did what you asked. I married you.”
He stepped closer. “You wore the ring. You played the role. But marriage is more than a ceremony, Rhea.”
“Then what is it?”
“Trust,” he said. “Obedience.”
She bristled. “I’m not your pet.”
“No,” he said, pausing. “You’re my wife. There’s a difference.”
He handed her a black card—metal, not plastic.
“Buy something appropriate for lunch with the press. You’re no longer invisible. You’re a Moreaux now.”
Her fingers curled around the card, cold and sharp. “Can I leave the building?”
Damien stared at her. “You can walk the streets of London. But know this—your brother’s location moves with your loyalty. Displease me, and he disappears again.”
Her throat tightened, but she nodded.
Hours later, dressed in a cream coat and sunglasses, Rhea stepped out of the black town car. Her heels clicked against the pavement as she entered the designer store, her chin lifted, her mask firmly in place.
She smiled. She lied. She played the part.
But as she tried on a designer blouse in the fitting room, she pulled out the burner phone she had hidden in her coat lining.
A stolen number. A single message.
“Julian Castellanos. Any sign of life?”
Her fingers hovered over the send button. This was dangerous. Reckless. Forbidden.
She hit send anyway.
- Writer
