The ghosts between us
1763 Words
Lena stood by the large windows of her penthouse, arms crossed, her posture rigid. She hadn't changed much-still exuding the kind of effortless elegance that made people feel small in her presence.
Her cold eyes flicked to Damien as he stepped inside, but they didn't hold the warmth they once had. Only suspicion.
"You have two minutes," she said flatly. "Say what you came to say and leave."
Damien smirked, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Always so welcoming."
She didn't react. Didn't flinch. Of course, she wouldn't.
He pulled out a file and tossed it onto the marble coffee table between them. "Lillian wasn't just in the wrong place at the wrong time. She was involved in something bigger, something dangerous."
Lena's brows furrowed, but she didn't touch the file.
"She worked for my father's lawyer, Vincent Caldwell," he continued. "And she knew something-something that got her killed."
Lena's eyes snapped up. "Vincent?"
Her reaction wasn't just shock. It was recognition.
Damien caught it immediately. "You know something," he accused.
Lena's fingers tightened around her arm. "I don't. But I know my sister. If she was tangled up with Vincent, she was in way over her head."
Damien leaned forward. "Then help me prove it."
For the first time, doubt flickered in her expression.
He had her attention. Now he just had to make her stay.
Lena let out a slow breath and finally sank onto the couch. She picked up the file, flipping through the pages. Her brows knit together as she read.
"These are transaction records," she muttered.
Damien nodded. "Lillian was tracking something. Money being moved through offshore accounts, all tied to clients Vincent represents."
Lena's lips pressed together. "Why would she care about this?"
Damien hesitated before answering. "Maybe because someone made her care."
Serena's gaze snapped to his.
"Think about it," Damien pressed. "Lillian was careful. She wouldn't get involved unless she had a reason."
Lena's throat bobbed as she swallowed. "Or unless she was threatened."
The words sent a chill through the room.
Damien studied her. "Did she say anything to you before she died? Anything that seemed... off?"
Lena closed the file, tapping her fingers against the cover. "She called me the night before she was killed," she admitted.
Damien's heart pounded. This was new.
"What did she say?"
Lena hesitated, as if weighing how much to tell him. "She told me she was scared. That she had made a mistake and didn't know how to fix it."
Damien clenched his jaw. "And you didn't think to tell anyone?"
Lena's expression darkened. "She made me promise not to."
The weight of her words settled between them.
Lillian had known she was in danger. And Serena had kept that secret.
Silence filled the room, thick with unspoken guilt.
Damien ran a hand down his face. "You should have told someone."
Lena's eyes flashed. "And who was I supposed to tell? The police? The same people who ruled her death an accident in record time?"
She had a point.
Damien exhaled sharply. "What else did she say?"
Lena bit her lip, staring at the file as if it held the answer. "She told me if something happened to her, I should stay out of it."
A muscle ticked in Damien's jaw. "And you listened?"
"I didn't have a choice," Serena said, her voice quieter now. "I was grieving."
Damien shook his head. "Well, grief doesn't change the fact that your sister was murdered, and the person responsible is still out there."
Lena's fingers tightened around the file.
Damien leaned in. "It's not too late to do something about it."
Lena met his gaze, and for the first time, he saw something c***k beneath the ice.
Fear.
Determination.
And maybe, just maybe... the same fire that burned in him.
Serena rubbed her temples, her composure cracking. "Damien, even if we dig into this, what exactly are we hoping to find?"
"The truth," he said simply.
Lena exhaled sharply. "And what if the truth is worse than we think?"
Damien's expression didn't waver. "Then we deal with it."
Lena let out a bitter laugh. "You make it sound so easy."
He leaned forward, his voice steady. "Not easy. Necessary."
She studied him for a long moment before looking away. "If Lillian really was murdered... then that means someone wanted her silenced. And if that's true-"
"-then whoever killed her might come after you next," Damien finished.
The words hung between them like a knife in the air.
Lena stiffened but didn't deny it.
She wasn't stupid. If Lillian had been involved in something dangerous, then by looking into it, they were putting themselves in the same crosshairs.
Damien watched Serena closely. Her silence told him more than words ever could.
"You're scared," he observed.
Lena's jaw clenched. "Of course I am. Aren't you?"
Damien's lips curled into a humorless smile. "Fear doesn't stop me. It never has."
Lena let out a breath. "Then maybe that's the difference between us."
Damien tilted his head. "No. The difference is, I know how to use it."
Lena's fingers tightened around the file.
"Look," he said, voice softer now. "You don't have to do this alone."
Lena blinked at him, her guarded expression flickering for a fraction of a second.
She hated him. She didn't trust him. But somewhere deep down, a part of her wanted to believe him.
A knock at the door made both of them freeze.
Lena's gaze snapped to Damien. "Did you tell anyone you were coming here?"
He shook his head, muscles tensing.
Another knock. Louder this time.
Lena hesitated before walking toward the door, but Damien grabbed her wrist. "Wait."
She frowned. "What?"
"Look through the peephole first," he whispered.
Lena did. And what she saw made her blood run cold.
She stepped back, whispering, "It's Vincent."
Damien's entire body went rigid.
Vincent Caldwell. His father's lawyer. The man Lillian worked for.
And the same man Damien suspected knew far more than he was letting on.
Lena's fingers trembled on the doorknob.
"Let me handle this," Damien murmured.
Lena hesitated-then slowly nodded.
She stepped aside, and Damien reached for the handle.
The moment he pulled the door open, Vincent's piercing gaze locked onto him.
"Well," Vincent drawled, his voice smooth as ever. "This is unexpected."
Damien smirked, crossing his arms. "Is it?"
Vincent's eyes flicked past him, toward Serena.
"I think we need to talk," Vincent said, stepping inside.
And just like that, the air in the room grew heavier.
Because they all knew-this wasn't just a conversation. This was a warning.
Vincent strode inside like he owned the place, his movements slow and deliberate. He was always like this-controlled, unreadable.
Damien shut the door behind him, eyes sharp. He wasn't here for a casual visit.
Vincent removed his leather gloves one finger at a time before tucking them into his coat pocket. "Imagine my surprise when I heard you two were... reconnecting."
Lena crossed her arms. "We have nothing to discuss with you, Vincent."
Vincent let out a low chuckle. "Oh, lena. That's where you're wrong." His gaze slid to Damien. "Especially you."
Damien didn't flinch. "If this is about Lillian-"
"It's about a great many things," Vincent interrupted, stepping closer. "But yes. She's certainly one of them."
Lena stiffened. "Then say whatever you came to say and leave."
Vincent exhaled as if disappointed. "So impatient. Just like your sister."
Lena's hands curled into fists.
Damien took a step forward, voice low. "Don't talk about her."
Vincent smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "I only meant that she, too, had a tendency to dig where she shouldn't."
Damien felt Serena tense beside him.
There it was. The warning.
But Vincent wasn't finished.
"You're looking for answers, aren't you?" he mused, tilting his head. "How very... ambitious."
Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating.
Damien narrowed his eyes. "Why don't you just say what you really mean?"
Vincent smirked. "Fine. Consider this a courtesy visit."
Lena scoffed. "Courtesy?"
Vincent's expression darkened. "You don't want to keep digging into Lillian's affairs. It won't end well for either of you."
A chill ran down Serena's spine. "Are you threatening us?"
Vincent merely smiled. "I'm giving you free advice."
Damien's jaw clenched. "And if we don't take it?"
Vincent slipped his gloves back on. "Then you'll learn the hard way."
Damien took a step closer. "Who killed Lillian?"
Vincent didn't answer. He adjusted his cufflinks as if the question bored him.
Lena's voice was quieter now. "Did you?"
This time, Vincent actually laughed. "If I had, do you think I'd be standing here?"
He wasn't denying it.
That realization sent a jolt of fury through Damien's veins.
"You should leave," Lena said, her voice colder than before.
Vincent held her gaze for a moment longer, then nodded. "As you wish."
He turned toward the door, but before stepping out, he glanced over his shoulder.
"A word of advice?" His tone was casual, but his eyes were sharp. "The dead don't always stay buried. Be careful who you dig up."
And then, he was gone.
The door clicked shut, but neither Damien nor Serena moved.
Lena let out a slow breath. "That was a mistake."
Damien turned to her. "Letting him in?"
"Letting him know we're looking," she corrected.
Damien ran a hand down his face. "He already knew."
Lena frowned. "How?"
Damien's stomach twisted. "Either he's been watching us... or someone told him."
Lena's heart pounded. "Do you think he had Lillian killed?"
Damien hesitated. "I don't know. But he's involved, somehow."
Lena exhaled shakily, pressing her fingers against her temples.
Damien watched her. "You don't have to do this, you know."
Lena's eyes snapped to his. "Yes, I do. She was my sister."
Damien held her gaze.
And just like that, they were in this together. No turning back now.
Lena paced the room, mind racing. "What now?"
Damien sat on the arm of the couch, deep in thought. "We push forward."
Lena frowned. "Even after that warning?"
Damien met her eyes. "Especially after that warning."
Lena exhaled. "Then where do we start?"
Damien reached for the file still on the coffee table. "We go back to the last thing Lillian was working on."
He flipped to the final page-a name circled in red ink.
Lena leaned closer, eyes widening. "That's-"
Damien's grip tightened on the paper.
It was someone they both knew. Someone powerful. Someone untouchable.
Lena's voice was barely a whisper. "This just got a lot more dangerous."
Damien smirked, his eyes dark with determination.
"Good."
- Writer
