Episode.2
1520 Words
Elena
I didn’t sleep that night.
How could I? I was married to a man who didn’t want me. Trapped in a house I didn’t belong in. And now someone from my past had just spoken my name through his phone.
Elijah.
I hadn’t heard his voice in three years.
Darius ended the call before I could ask anything. No explanation. No look in my direction. Just a sharp, controlled, “I’ll handle it,” before disappearing into his office and shutting the door like I was nothing but noise.
I didn’t knock.
I didn’t care.
I paced my room for an hour, mind spinning. What was Elijah doing on Darius’s phone? Were they working together? Were they enemies? Did he even know I was married?
I thought I’d buried that part of my life.
Clearly, life had other plans.
—
The next morning, Darius was already gone.
His side of the dining table was untouched. Black coffee sat in a white cup, still steaming. A folded newspaper beside it, with the headline in bold:
“Knight’s New Bride Stuns at High-Society Wedding”
My photo was front and center. Me, smiling with my mouth but not my eyes. I looked like a hostage wrapped in lace.
I pushed the paper aside and ate nothing.
Instead, I wandered.
The mansion was too quiet. Too clean. Too sterile. It felt more like a showroom than a home. Every hallway looked the same. Cold floors, modern art, the faint scent of lemon and control.
And cameras. I knew they were there. Watching.
I turned a corner and found an open door at the end of the hall. It wasn’t Darius’s office—I’d memorized that one.
No, this room was darker. Books lined the walls. Heavy curtains blocked the sun. A desk sat in the middle, covered in old files and photos.
And there, right in the center, was a framed picture.
Darius and a boy who looked just like him—but with softer eyes. Lighter hair. A smile.
His brother.
Adrian Knight.
Dead five years now. A car crash. The story had been everywhere. Tragic. Clean. Wrapped in ribbon and forgotten.
I’d met Adrian once, at a fundraiser in college. He laughed when I spilled wine on my dress and handed me a napkin with a wink. I remembered thinking how strange it was—two brothers from the same family, one warm, one made of ice.
I touched the frame.
“Don’t go through my things.”
I jumped, spinning around.
Darius stood in the doorway, tie loosened, eyes unreadable.
“I didn’t know this was yours,” I said quickly.
He stepped inside, closing the door behind him. “Every room in this house is mine.”
I backed up. “I wasn’t trying to—”
“You were,” he cut in. “You want to know what happened to him.”
I swallowed. “No. I mean—yes. But not like this.”
Darius stared at the photo. “Everyone has their theories. The press blamed the brakes. My mother blamed the roads. I blamed myself.”
His voice dropped.
“And maybe they’re all right.”
I looked at him, searching for something—anything human behind his perfect shell.
“What happened that night?” I asked softly.
He didn’t answer.
He turned away, walked to the desk, and picked up a file.
“You’ll be attending an event tonight.”
“What?”
He handed me the folder. “You’ll wear what they send. Smile for the cameras. Hold my arm like you mean it.”
“Darius—”
“Elijah will be there.”
My breath caught.
He looked at me then—really looked.
“You know him?”
I hesitated. “We were… friends.”
“Friends?” His voice darkened. “Interesting word.”
“We haven’t spoken in years.”
“He just called my private line.”
I froze.
He nodded slowly, like he already knew the answer. “You didn’t know that, did you?”
“No,” I whispered. “I didn’t.”
“Well,” he said, stepping closer, “tonight, you’ll both catch up.”
His face was close to mine now. Too close.
“And you’ll do it while wearing my ring.”
I didn’t answer. Couldn’t.
Because somewhere in my chest, anger twisted into something sharper.
—
The dress arrived an hour later.
It was gold. Fitted. Expensive enough to pay a year’s rent. I wore it anyway. Makeup was done for me by a woman who didn’t speak. My hair curled, pinned, sprayed into shape like I was someone else.
By the time we got in the car, I looked like a bride in a movie.
One with a knife hidden under the lace.
Darius sat beside me, scrolling through his phone, emotionless as always.
“You’ll smile,” he said without looking up. “Laugh when you need to. Pretend this isn’t a deal.”
“Like you do?” I snapped.
He turned his head slowly. “I don’t pretend, Elena.”
“No. You just pretend to feel nothing.”
He didn’t respond. He didn’t need to.
His silence was louder than any insult.
—
The event was a gala for tech giants and media elites. Shimmering gowns. Diamond necklaces. Too many secrets in one room.
Flashbulbs exploded the moment we walked in.
“Mr. Knight! Mrs. Knight! Look here!”
We posed. He held my waist like he’d memorized it. I leaned into him like he wasn’t ice. And we smiled for the world.
But my heart wasn’t in it.
It dropped the second I saw him.
Elijah Ward.
Standing across the room, in black. Clean-shaven. Tall. That same calm, intense stare that used to undo me in college.
His eyes found mine instantly.
They widened—just a second.
Then narrowed.
Then softened.
He started toward me.
Darius tightened his grip on my waist.
“Elena,” he murmured, voice low. “Whatever you’re thinking—don’t.”
But it was too late.
“Elena?” Elijah’s voice reached me. Still deep. Still gentle.
“Hi,” I managed.
“You look…” His eyes traveled over me. “Like someone I used to know.”
I smiled tightly. “You look the same.”
“Is this what you’ve been up to?” he asked, nodding at Darius.
“She’s been busy,” Darius said, voice like a razor. “But I’m sure you’ll find someone else to reminisce with.”
“I wasn’t talking to you,” Elijah said.
My chest squeezed.
“Elijah—” I started, but he cut me off.
“I tried to call you. Years ago.”
“I changed numbers.”
“I know. I asked around.”
Darius stepped forward. “That’s enough.”
Elijah’s eyes never left mine. “Is this real, Elena?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said quickly. “It’s done.”
He nodded once. “Then you should know… you married into something dark.”
Darius laughed under his breath. “That’s rich—coming from you.”
“Elena,” Elijah said, stepping closer. “If you ever need—”
“She won’t,” Darius interrupted. “She has everything she needs.”
The tension snapped like a whip.
I stepped between them. “Both of you—stop.”
People were watching now. Too many ears. Too many eyes.
“I need air,” I muttered.
I turned and walked, fast, heels loud against marble.
I didn’t stop until I hit the balcony.
The air was cold. I gripped the edge, breathing hard.
Then I heard it.
Footsteps.
I turned, expecting Darius.
But it wasn’t him.
It was Elijah.
He closed the door behind him, silent for a moment. Then he said, “I shouldn’t have come.”
I swallowed. “Why did you?”
He looked at me—really looked.
“Because I couldn’t believe it until I saw it with my own eyes.”
“Elijah…”
“I loved you,” he said, voice raw. “I still don’t know how to forget.”
My heart stopped.
“Elijah, don’t.”
But he stepped closer anyway. “I can help you. If you’re stuck, if this is some kind of game—”
“It’s not a game,” I snapped.
“Then why do you look like you’re drowning?”
I blinked fast, willing the tears to stay put.
He touched my hand. “You’re not alone.”
And that’s when the balcony door slammed open.
Darius stood there.
His eyes were fire.
“Elena,” he said coldly. “Inside. Now.”
I turned to Elijah, but he was already stepping back.
Darius held out his hand.
I didn’t take it.
Not yet.
Because this wasn’t about playing the role anymore.
This was the beginning of something else.
And in that moment, I realized something terrifying—
Someone was going to get hurt.
And it might be me.
- Writer
