CHAPTER 8 — The First Lie
1075 Words
Footsteps thundered down the hall.
Fast. Sharp. Angry.
Gina.
Ariella felt her stomach clench. Damien subtly shifted half a step in front of her, while Elias took position by the broken window — a silent threat to anyone who might attempt to enter again.
The drawing room door flew open.
Gina swept inside in her silk robe, her hair still perfectly arranged despite the chaos. Her eyes landed first on Ophelia — on her rumpled dress, tear-stained face, and shaking hands.
Then on the shattered glass.
Then on Damien’s posture beside Ariella.
Her expression soured instantly.
“Oh, Ophelia!” Gina rushed dramatically toward her daughter. “Sweetheart, what happened? Who did this to you?”
Ophelia opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Her throat worked, her breath hitched, her fear too fresh to shape into words.
Gina turned sharply to Damien.
“What kind of doctor allows this madness to happen under his watch?”
Damien’s jaw tightened, but his voice remained controlled. “With respect, Mrs. Hart, this happened because someone breached your home’s security. We’re still determining how.”
Gina scoffed. “Security? We are the most secured estate in this region. People don’t just walk through windows.”
Elias’ cold voice cut through the room.
“He didn’t walk. He climbed. And he left deliberately. Only after he realized he had the wrong target.”
A trace of satisfaction flickered in Gina’s expression — small but unmistakable.
“Wrong target…” she repeated slowly. Her gaze drifted to Ariella like a blade. “And who, exactly, would the right target be?”
Ariella stiffened.
Damien stepped fully between them now — a move Gina did not appreciate.
“Mrs. Hart,” he said sharply, “this is not a conversation you’re cleared for. This is a matter for Mr. Hart, the security team, and Ariella.”
Gina’s eyebrows rose, venomously polite.
“Ariella,” she echoed. “Of course.”
Then she turned to her husband — who had just arrived.
Michael Hart stood in the doorway, breathless from running, confusion and terror flickering in his eyes. He took in the shattered window, Ophelia trembling in Gina’s arms, Damien blocking Ariella, Elias surveying the room.
“What happened here?” he asked, voice raw.
“Someone attacked Ophelia,” Gina rushed to say. “Our poor baby could’ve been kidn*pped— or worse! And apparently your daughter—”
“Gina.” Michael’s voice cracked like a whip. “Not now.”
Gina silenced instantly, her lips tightening.
Michael stepped forward toward Ophelia. “Sweetheart, are you hurt?”
Ophelia shook her head, but the tears didn’t stop. She clung to him, burying her face in his chest.
“I thought it was Ariella,” she whispered hoarsely. “I thought— I thought he came for her.”
Michael’s eyes snapped to Ariella, widening with a fear she had never seen in him.
“Ariella… are you alright?”
She opened her mouth.
But the truth stuck in her throat like a thorn.
Something about Michael’s gaze — the guilt swimming below the panic — struck her sharply.
He was hiding something.
Something big.
Something about her.
She swallowed.
“I’m fine,” she whispered.
Michael exhaled in relief. Then he turned to Damien.
“What did he want?” he asked quietly.
Damien and Elias exchanged the briefest look — the kind of silent communication that only comes from years of shared secrets.
“We don’t know yet,” Damien lied smoothly.
Ariella’s breath caught.
He lied for her.
To protect her.
Michael swallowed hard. “Strengthen the perimeter. Double the guards. I want armed patrols on the grounds until further notice. No one enters or exits without my authorization.”
“Yes, sir,” Elias said.
But Gina wasn’t done.
“I want extra guards outside Ophelia’s door,” she said firmly. “She was the one attacked. She needs protection.”
Michael hesitated — just for a second — and that hesitation told Ariella a devastating truth:
He knew the attacker wasn’t after Ophelia.
He knew exactly who the real target was.
“Fine,” he said, clearing his throat. “Extra guards for Ophelia.”
Then—
His gaze shifted to Ariella.
“And triple that for Ariella.”
Gina stiffened, but didn’t protest.
Not openly.
Michael approached Ariella, placing his hands gently on her arms.
“Ariella,” he said softly, “I need you to stay close to Damien and Elias for the next few days. No wandering alone. No walks outside. No unnecessary outings.”
Ariella stared at him. “Dad… you know something. Don’t you?”
His breath caught.
Damien tensed.
Elias turned away.
Michael shut his eyes briefly — then forced a shaky smile.
“I know that someone tried to break into our home tonight. That is all that matters.”
Lie.
She felt it. Damien felt it. Even Elias’s jaw tightened.
Gina suddenly wrapped an arm around Ophelia dramatically.
“We’re leaving this horrible room. Come, darling.”
Michael guided them out, giving Damien a nod that held layers of unspoken meaning.
The room slowly emptied.
The broken window still breathed cold air.
The silence that followed felt dangerous.
Ariella stood frozen until Damien gently touched her elbow.
“You lied,” she whispered, finally finding her voice.
Damien looked at her steadily. “To protect you.”
“And my father?” she asked, voice cracking. “He’s lying too.”
Elias shut the door quietly behind them, locking the broken room off from the rest of the house.
“Yes,” Elias said. “He is.”
Ariella felt tears prick her eyes again. “I don’t understand any of this.”
Damien stepped closer, lowering his voice so only she could hear.
“And you won’t,” he said softly, “until we find out what your father has been hiding from all of us.”
Ariella inhaled shakily, trying to steady her racing heart.
“Damien…”
“Yes?”
“What happens now?”
Damien exchanged one final, grim look with Elias before answering.
“Now,” he said, “we watch every door and every window. We don’t leave you alone for a second.”
Elias nodded. “And we wait.”
“For what?” Ariella whispered.
Damien’s eyes darkened.
“For him to make his next move.”
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- Writer
