Episode 4
1512 Words
I stared at the photo for a long time.
Elijah. My father.
Standing beside a black car in the middle of nowhere. No timestamp. No location. Just grainy proof that something was happening behind my back.
I didn’t know what was worse—what the photo meant, or the fact that Darius knew before I did.
My father had sworn he’d stay quiet. He’d promised not to get involved after I signed the contract.
But there he was. Talking to Elijah like old friends.
I pressed the photo to my chest and breathed slowly.
This marriage was a lie.
But now, even my past felt like one, too.
—
Darius didn’t bring it up again.
Not that night. Not the next morning.
He didn’t ask if I was okay. Didn’t explain where the photo came from. He just handed it to me like he was giving me a loaded gun—and then disappeared into his day like nothing happened.
It was almost worse than if he’d yelled.
I spent the day in silence.
I didn’t leave the house.
I didn’t call Elijah.
I couldn’t.
Because every time I picked up the phone, I remembered what Darius said: Not everyone is who they used to be.
—
The next day, Diana Knight summoned me.
That was the word her assistant used: “summoned.”
Like I was a soldier. Or a child.
Her penthouse was just as cold as I remembered. Tall glass walls. Black leather furniture. Not a single framed family photo in sight.
She stood when I walked in.
“Elena,” she said with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I was beginning to think you’d forgotten your place.”
I stood taller. “I didn’t realize I had one.”
She raised a brow. “How clever. Tell me—did your father teach you that mouth, or did it come with the scandal?”
I didn’t flinch.
She circled me slowly. Like a cat.
“I see why Darius married you. There’s something in you that wants to win.”
“I didn’t marry him,” I said flatly. “You arranged it. Remember?”
She stopped walking. “We gave you options.”
“You gave me an ultimatum.”
She tilted her head. “And yet, here you are—Mrs. Knight.”
I said nothing.
She walked to her desk, picked up a folder, and slid it across the glass.
“What’s this?”
She didn’t answer.
I opened it.
It was a list.
Dozens of names. Headlines. Articles. Whispers.
People ruined.
People erased.
One name was underlined.
Elijah Ward.
I looked up slowly.
“He thinks he’s clever,” she said. “He thinks because he walked away, he’s safe. He’s not.”
“What did you do to him?”
She smiled. “Nothing. Yet.”
I clenched my fists. “He’s not your enemy.”
“No?” she said calmly. “Then what is he? Because I assure you—he’s not your friend.”
I swallowed. “He helped me.”
“He’s using you.”
“You don’t know that.”
She leaned closer. “And you don’t know what we cleaned up after your father’s mess.”
My heart dropped.
“What?”
She tapped the file. “There are things you don’t understand. Things we didn’t put in the contract. Things we protected you from.”
I backed away. “I don’t believe you.”
“You don’t have to,” she said, sitting down. “But if you see him again, I won’t be as generous.”
I turned without another word.
And I walked out, feeling her warning like a knife in my back.
—
I didn’t go home.
Not right away.
I walked the city instead. No makeup. No heels. Just myself and the noise of everything I used to understand cracking under my feet.
I missed the girl I was before all this.
The girl who believed in promises.
The girl who believed her father could be saved.
The girl who thought love wasn’t a transaction.
I ended up at the bridge.
It was quiet there. Windy. Almost peaceful.
Until I heard his voice.
“You always come here when your heart’s a mess.”
I turned slowly.
Elijah stood there, hands in his coat pockets. Watching me.
“I didn’t call you,” I said quietly.
“I know.”
“I didn’t ask you to come.”
“I know that too.”
We stood in silence.
Then he walked closer.
“I had no idea your dad reached out to me,” he said. “It wasn’t planned. He just showed up one day. Said he needed to warn me.”
“About what?”
He looked at me, eyes dark. “The Knights.”
I shook my head. “You don’t know them.”
“I know enough.”
“You don’t know Darius.”
“Do you?” he asked.
I didn’t answer.
“Elena,” he said gently, “I know you want to believe he’s more than what they made him. But I’ve seen what they do to people who fall out of line.”
“I’m not in line,” I whispered.
“Yes, you are,” he said softly. “You just don’t see the leash yet.”
My chest cracked open.
I wanted to scream.
I wanted to believe he was wrong.
But I couldn’t.
Because some part of me already knew he was right.
—
By the time I got back home, the house felt colder than usual.
Quiet.
Too quiet.
I walked into the library and stopped.
Darius was there.
Standing at the window.
Phone in one hand.
Whiskey in the other.
“You didn’t tell me where you were going,” he said without turning.
“I wasn’t aware I had to.”
He turned slowly.
His face was tired. Hollow. Not the perfect, polished version the press adored.
“You saw him again,” he said.
“I did.”
His jaw clenched. “He’s not who you think he is.”
“And you are?”
He stared at me. “I never pretended to be a hero.”
“No,” I said. “You pretended not to feel anything. That’s worse.”
“I told you from the beginning—”
“No,” I cut in. “You never told me anything. Not why you agreed to this marriage. Not why your mother controls everything. Not why my father’s name still sits in your vault like leverage.”
He went silent.
Then, finally, he said, “I married you to hurt her.”
I blinked. “What?”
He downed the rest of his drink. Set the glass down hard.
“I married you because it was the only thing she didn’t want. The only thing she couldn’t spin. You were supposed to be my mistake.”
My chest burned.
“But something changed,” he added quietly.
I stared at him. “What changed?”
He didn’t answer.
He walked past me, slow, like he didn’t want to say what came next.
And then—
He stopped at the door.
Without turning around, he said, “If Elijah contacts you again, don’t answer.”
“Or what?” I whispered.
He paused.
Then said the last thing I expected.
“Because someone’s following him.”
My blood ran cold.
“What?”
He looked back at me. “If you care about him… stay away.”
And then he left me standing in the quiet, heart pounding, mind racing.
Because I finally understood—
This wasn’t just a marriage.
It was a trap.
And I wasn’t the only one caught inside it.
—
Later that night, I went through the file Diana gave me.
Every name. Every note.
Most of it read like fear.
Carefully buried scandals.
Private deals.
People who disappeared after asking too many questions.
But tucked at the back—half-torn, folded in a rush—was a photo I hadn’t seen.
Not Elijah.
Not my father.
Me.
But younger.
At a university gala.
Smiling. Holding a glass of wine.
And just behind me, blurred but unmistakable…
Adrian Knight.
My heart dropped.
He was looking at me.
Not at the crowd.
Not at the camera.
Me.
—
Before I could process it, my phone lit up.
Unknown number.
I hesitated.
Then I answered.
“Elena Lancaster,” a cold voice said. “You’re in danger.”
I froze.
“Who is this?”
“You need to stop asking questions,” the voice said. “And stay away from Elijah Ward.”
“Why?”
“Because the last person who got close to the truth ended up dead.”
The line went dead.
And I stood there, phone shaking in my hand.
My skin cold.
My world spinning.
And a single, terrifying thought pounding in my head—
What if Adrian Knight didn’t die in that crash?
- Writer
