Chapter 3
803 Words
Morning came quietly into the Dimitri estate.
Not warm.
Not soft.
Just light slipping through heavy curtains like it wasn’t fully invited.
Aiden Dimitri woke up slowly.
Not because he was rested.
But because his body had learned to function without it.
For a moment, he didn’t move.
The ceiling above him was unfamiliar in the way grief made everything feel slightly displaced.
Then he noticed the weight beside him.
Still.
Too close.
His eyes shifted.
And there she was.
Elena Vaughn.
Lying in his matrimonial bed like she belonged there.
Like the space had accepted her presence without permission.
Aiden sat up immediately.
The movement was sharp enough to break the silence.
“Elena.”
His voice was low.
Dangerously controlled.
She stirred slightly, opening her eyes as if she had been waiting for him to notice her.
“Aiden…” she murmured softly, pulling the sheet closer like she was embarrassed.
His jaw tightened.
“Get out.”
The words were instant.
Final.
No emotion attached to them—just certainty.
Elena blinked slowly.
Then sat up.
Not rushed.
Not panicked.
Just calm.
“I didn’t mean to fall asleep here,” she said gently.
Aiden didn’t respond.
He was already standing.
“Now,” he said.
A pause.
Elena looked at him for a moment longer than necessary.
Then she nodded.
“Alright.”
She got up slowly, gathering her things from the side of the bed.
Her movements were careful.
Deliberate.
Like she wanted to be remembered in the space even as she left it.
Aiden didn’t watch her.
He had already turned away.
---
The shower ran longer than necessary.
Not because he needed time.
But because it gave him silence without her voice inside it.
When he stepped out, the world felt slightly more tolerable.
Slightly.
He dressed without speaking to anyone.
The house moved around him quietly—maids adjusting curtains, cleaning surfaces, avoiding eye contact.
They had learned the rules of his silence.
Breakfast was already set when he entered the dining room.
And Elena was there.
Already seated.
Already composed.
Like nothing had happened upstairs.
Her hair was neatly arranged.
Her makeup subtle but intentional.
A version of herself carefully rebuilt for public space.
Aiden paused briefly at the door.
Then stepped in.
He sat without greeting her.
The maids began serving immediately.
No one spoke for a few seconds.
Only the sound of porcelain and quiet movement filled the space.
Elena was the first to break it.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” she said softly.
Aiden didn’t look at her.
He lifted his tea and took a slow sip.
“I shouldn’t have fallen asleep in your room,” she continued.
Silence.
Aiden set the cup down carefully.
“It shouldn’t happen again,” he said flatly.
Elena nodded immediately.
“Of course.”
A pause.
Then she smiled slightly.
“I just… didn’t want to leave you alone last night.”
Aiden finally looked at her.
Not warmly.
Not angrily.
Just empty.
“I don’t need company,” he said.
Elena held his gaze.
“Noted,” she replied softly.
The rest of the meal passed without conversation.
Aiden finished his tea, stood, and adjusted his cufflinks.
“Work,” he said simply.
He didn’t wait for a response.
He left the table.
Left the room.
Left the atmosphere behind him like it didn’t belong to him.
---
Elena remained seated after he left.
The maids moved quietly around her, clearing plates, avoiding her gaze.
One of them exchanged a glance with another.
It wasn’t subtle.
It didn’t need to be.
When the room emptied, Elena picked up a grape from the fruit bowl.
Rolled it between her fingers slowly.
A faint smile formed on her lips.
Not soft.
Not kind.
Certain.
“Aiden Dimitri,” she murmured to herself.
She placed the grape in her mouth and leaned back slightly.
“You are mine.”
A pause.
Her eyes narrowed slightly as she looked toward the empty seat he had just left.
“And mine alone.”
She picked another grape.
“I fell for you first,” she continued quietly. “Before anyone else had the right to even look at you.”
She smiled faintly.
“And no one…”
A slow bite.
“…will stand in my way.”
A pause.
Her expression didn’t change.
But something colder passed behind her eyes.
“If they do,” she whispered, “they’ll end like your wife.”
Silence.
She finished the last grape slowly.
Then stood.
Smoothened her dress.
And walked out of the dining room like she had never said anything at all.
---
Outside, the estate continued functioning like nothing had changed.
But inside it—
something had already started shifting.
Quietly.
Unnoticed.
And dangerously irreversible.
- Writer
