Part Four: Shadows Behind the Glass
1236 Words
There was a room in the Varo estate no one talked about.
Not guarded. Not locked. But untouched.
Serena first noticed it on a rainy morning, wandering through the east wing alone. The hallway curved with precision, all polished obsidian floors and chrome accents. But then, it stopped — suddenly — at a door painted black.
Not the dramatic black of intimidation.
But soft, like velvet.
Forgotten.
She placed a hand on the doorknob.
Cold.
She didn’t open it.
Not that day.
She had other things to worry about.
The wedding was three weeks away, and Serena was drowning in silk fittings, fake bridal interviews, and a media machine that was hungry for fairy tales.
Dominic, as always, kept his distance — cold, consistent, unreadable.
Except for the moments when he didn’t.
Like the time she walked past his office and caught him staring at a ring box, his jaw clenched like it was holding back screams.
Or the way his eyes lingered too long on her collarbone when she wore her hair up.
Or how he whispered “you smell like the past” after a rehearsal dinner and left her breathless without explanation.
It was maddening.
Because it was pretend.
All of it.
Wasn’t it?
One night, she found the music box.
She didn’t mean to snoop — not really. She was looking for aspirin in the guest wing and wandered into a side study.
On a dusty shelf, beneath a thick medical file labeled "Choi – Internal," sat a silver box.
Delicate. Hand-etched. With initials: Y.H.V.
She turned the key underneath and let it play.
The melody was sharp and sweet — the kind that made old memories knock on your chest like fists.
It didn’t feel like Dominic at all.
It felt like grief.
And for some reason, Serena pocketed it.
She didn’t ask why.
The next morning, she woke to find her sister Jinah at the gate.
“Surprise!” she beamed, holding a tiny suitcase and wearing a hoodie five sizes too big. “The driver said I could visit anytime.”
Serena blinked, still in her robe.
Dominic stood behind her, coffee in hand, eyebrow raised.
“You didn’t tell me we were expecting a teenager,” he said flatly.
Serena shot him a look. “She’s family.”
“She’s unvetted.”
“She’s fifteen.”
“She’s dangerous.”
“To your peace and quiet, maybe.”
He smirked faintly. Then turned to Jinah.
“Rules: No wandering off. No touching confidential files. And don’t scream when the koi swim toward you.”
Jinah blinked. “Why would I scream?”
“They’re genetically modified.”
“What.”
He walked away.
Later that day, while Jinah was sketching in the garden, Serena searched the estate’s digital archives. She knew she’d seen something off in that “Choi – Internal” file.
It wasn’t about her family’s trial.
It was older.
A photograph from 1992. Three men in suits. Two of them were her father and Dominic’s.
The third? She didn’t recognize.
The caption read:
Project M: Initial Agreement, Kyung Tech, Seoul.
She typed “Project M” into the internal database.
Access Denied.
She tried again using Dominic’s name.
Password Required.
Her heart stuttered.
She was getting too close.
But she couldn’t stop.
That night, Serena asked Dominic a simple question at dinner.
“What happened to your mother?”
He froze.
The glass in his hand stopped mid-air.
For a moment, he didn’t move at all.
Then, softly, “Why are you asking?”
“I found a music box.”
He inhaled slowly.
“She died.”
“How?”
“She drowned. On a yacht. Thirteen guests. No witnesses.”
Serena swallowed. “You think it wasn’t an accident.”
“I know it wasn’t.”
“Why?”
“Because the night before… she told me she was leaving him.”
Serena blinked.
“Your father?”
Dominic nodded.
“And that’s when it hit me,” he said softly. “People don’t fall off yachts. They get pushed.”
For the first time, she saw him break.
His hand curled into a fist.
The fork on his plate bent.
“I was ten,” he whispered. “Ten. And I watched him pretend to grieve while hiding her jewelry.”
“You’ve been building revenge since then?”
He looked up.
“No. I built an empire. The revenge came later.”
Silence.
Then, quietly, he asked, “Do you still think I’m a monster?”
She didn’t answer.
Because she didn’t know anymore.
Days passed. The wedding got closer. The pressure grew.
Paparazzi broke through security one night, snapping photos of Serena through her bedroom window. Dominic fired five staff members. Installed retina scanners. Moved her into his wing.
For “safety.”
That’s what he said.
But Serena wasn’t sure safety was what he truly wanted.
One night, she woke to find him sitting on the floor beside her bed.
He wasn’t touching her.
Just… watching.
“Couldn’t sleep,” he said, voice husky.
“Dominic—”
He shook his head.
“Don’t say anything. Just let me sit here. Just for tonight.”
She didn’t ask why.
She just let him.
A week before the wedding, Serena returned to the black velvet door.
This time, she opened it.
The room was dark. Bare. Empty — except for one thing.
A single chair in the middle, with a projector facing it.
On the floor, a hard drive.
She plugged it in.
Video files. Hundreds.
Security footage. Home cameras. Surveillance.
All tied to the same name:
Yoon Hana Varo.
Her hand trembled.
She clicked one.
It was grainy footage.
A woman arguing with someone — her face blurred. Her voice low but fierce.
Another file.
A confrontation in the hallway. Pushing. Screaming.
Another.
Blood.
And then one labeled:
The Fall – 2011.
She hovered.
Then clicked.
It opened to a private dock. A man. A woman in heels. The camera shook.
There was yelling. Wind. Water crashing.
Then — a shove.
The woman fell backwards into the black waves.
The camera cut.
Serena stared.
She recognized the shoes.
Silver heels.
The same kind in the music box photo.
The woman wasn’t Yoon Hana.
She was Yoon Haeun.
Dominic’s mother.
And the man?
Her father.
Serena dropped the mouse.
Everything tilted.
Her vision blurred. Her stomach flipped.
Her father had been there.
That night.
The night Dominic’s mother died.
He wasn’t just involved.
He’d been there.
She stumbled out of the room.
Dominic was standing at the end of the hallway.
His face blank.
But his eyes burned.
“You weren’t supposed to see that.”
Her voice was barely a whisper. “How long have you known?”
He stepped closer. One hand in his pocket. The other clenched.
“Long enough.”
“Why me? Why this marriage?”
He tilted his head.
“Because you’re the only one left who can break them.”
“Break who?”
“The Varo board. The old families. The dynasty that erased my mother.”
“You think I can do that?”
He stepped into the light.
“I know you can.”
“Why?”
“Because they underestimate you. Like they did her. And if we do this together…”
A pause.
“We win.”
- Writer
