Chapter 8
875 Words
Inside a study filled with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, Julian sat in silence. His eyes were fixed on a thick black envelope sealed with gold wax, marked with the Xavier family crest, that had arrived on his desk that morning.
Damian Xavier had sent the invitation specifically for Sheina, asking her to attend the gallery’s grand opening.
Julian let out a long breath and rubbed his temples. He knew this day would come, but he didn’t expect it to come this soon.
He picked up the envelope and walked toward the back studio—a glass-walled room overlooking the garden.
There, Sheina stood still in front of a large blank canvas. She wasn’t painting. She simply stared at the raindrops blurring the city view beyond the glass.
Her sharp bob haircut made her look untouchable, but Julian knew she was restless inside.
“Sheina… he’s not giving up,” Julian said softly, breaking the silence.
Sheina turned, her eyes immediately falling on the envelope in his hand.
“What is that, Julian?”
“An invitation from Mr. Xavier.” Julian placed the black envelope on the small table beside her.
Sheina swallowed. Her fingers slowly clenched into fists.
“So… Father Miller’s statement didn’t stop him?”
“No. Mark did a very clean investigation, and Father Miller played his part perfectly. Your wedding photos with Thomas, your pregnancy medical records… everything was presented. But it didn’t shake him. Damian Xavier is not the kind of man who trusts logic when his instincts say otherwise.”
Julian stepped closer, standing beside the woman he had saved five years ago.
“He officially invited you as the guest of honor for the Xavier Gallery inauguration in Manhattan. Your solo exhibition will be the main event. And there’s an additional note… a private dinner invitation at the Xavier residence.”
The moment she heard “Xavier residence,” Sheina’s shoulders tensed.
That name was a curse.
It was the place where she was once treated like a beloved princess… and also the place where she was treated worse than nothing before being thrown out into the streets during a snowstorm.
“He wants me to step into that house again,” Sheina whispered. Her voice was cold, but there was a slight tremor she tried to hide.
“He wants to uncover your true identity, Sheina. He’s hoping your past memories will break you in that house. You shouldn’t go,” Julian warned.
“I can go in your place. I can come up with a thousand excuses—an exhibition in Paris, health issues, anything. We can disappear from his reach for a while. We could even move to Italy if we have to.” Julian held her shoulder, trying to give her strength.
Slowly, Sheina picked up the envelope. With one firm motion, she tore open the gold seal. She pulled out the letter and read Damian’s sharp, slanted, dominant handwriting line by line.
“I expect to see the woman who paints such deep suffering in the place where that suffering was born. Come to Manhattan, Sheina. Let’s see if New York is as cold as your paintings.”
A faint, bitter smile formed on her lips.
“He’s challenging me, Julian. He knows I’m afraid. And to a man like Damian, fear is like the smell of blood to a predator. If I don’t go, he’ll be even more certain that I’m running from him. He won’t stop. He’ll send people here, watch our every move. Even if we run to the end of the world, he’ll still find us. He’s capable of that.”
“But this is dangerous, Sheina. It’s not just Damian. Lady Beatrice still controls many things. And there’s Ellena… the woman who was supposed to marry him if you hadn’t come back. They won’t stay silent if someone who looks exactly like Camila Wilson walks into their territory,” Julian said firmly.
Sheina walked toward one of her paintings, gently touching the rough, dried texture.
“I’m not the fragile Camila anymore, Julian. The old Camila died under that bridge, buried under the snow and betrayed by the man she loved. If Damian wants to play with fire in his own house… then I’ll bring the gasoline.”
She turned to Julian, her gaze sharp and unshaken.
“We’re going to New York. But I won’t come as his obedient guest. I’ll come as his threat. Prepare Leo. He’s coming with us.”
Julian was stunned. His eyes widened.
“Bring Leo to the Xavier house? Sheina, that’s insane! That’s suicide. Damian will see that boy every second. He’ll see himself in Leo’s face!”
“That’s the point,” Sheina replied coldly. “Let him see it. Let him look at my son and suffer… even when the DNA results say they are strangers. I want him to feel the deepest kind of pain. To have the truth right in front of him… but be unable to reach it because of the doubt I created. I want him to go mad in his own uncertainty.”
Julian fell silent.
He finally realized… Sheina was no longer trying to hide.
She wanted revenge—quiet, precise, and painfully cruel.
- Writer
