The Secret Bride

The Safehouse Lies

Chapter Sixteen: Secret Bride

The Safehouse Lies

Not while I'm here."

But fear wasn't the only thing haunting her.

"Damon... "Her voice was tentative. "Can I ask you something?"

He stilled, sensing the shift in her tone."Anything."

Her fingers toyed the edge of his shirt, her throat tightening. "What did Victor mean, when he said I didn't know who I married?"

The air between them changed instantly. His body tensed, his eyes darkening.

"Amanda... His voice was low, warning. "Don't let his poison get into your head."

She swallowed. " But he said it with such certainty. Like he knows something I don't."

Damon's grip on her waist tightened almost painfully before he farced himself to ease it. He stepped back, running a hand through his hair, frustration radiating from him.

" My past isn't clean, " he admitted, his tone clipped. "You know that much."

" Yes, but -"

"There are things I've done, things I've buried, that Victor would love to twist into lies." His eyes locked onto hers, burning with intensity. " Don't let him do that to you. Don't let him steal the trust between us."

Amanda's heart twisted. She wanted to believe him. She wanted to earse every shred of doubt. But Victor's shadow clung to her thought like smoke.

And that's when the knock came.

A guard entered, holding a small box. "This just arrived, sir. No return address."

Damon took it immediately, his body taut with suspicion. He opened it with careful precision, every muscle tense.

Inside lay a flash drive.

No note. No threats. just the small, ominous device.

Amanda's stomach dropped. "Don't -"

But Damon was already slotting it into his laptop. The screen flickered, then came to life.

A video played.

The footage was grariny, but clear enough. It showed Damon in a dimly lit room, years younger, his face hard, his hands stained with violence. He stood over a man bound to a chair, blood pooling beneath him. The Damon on the screen lifted a gun, his expression cold and merciless, before pulling the trigger.

Amanda gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.

Her Damon-the man who held her tenderly, who whispered promises in the night- stared back at her from the screen, ruthless and unfeeling.

The video ended abruptly, leaving silence so heavy it suffocated.

Amanda staggered back. "Is it real?"

Damon's jaw clenched, his fists tight at his sides. He didn't answer immediately, and the hesitation was its own kind of truth.

Her chest ached. "You killed him."

His eyes lifted to hers, filled with storm and regret. "Yes."

Her breath shuddered. "Why?"

" Because he was going to destroy everything, "Damon said fiercely. "Because he was the kind of man who would've hurt everyone I swore to protect. I made a choice-a brutal one-but it was necessary."

Tears burned her eyes. "And how many others, Damon? How many more choices like that?"

His face hardened . "Do you think this world allows clean hands? If you want to survive, you stain them. That's the reality Victor is exploiting. He wants you to look at me and see a monster."

Her voice cracked. "And what if I do?"

The silence that followed was colder than any threat Victor had made.

Damon stepped closer, his voice low, raw.

"Then he's already won."

That night, Amanda sat awake long after Damon finally surrendered to sleep beside her. She watched his chest rise and fall, his hand instinctively reaching for her even in slumber.

She touched his fingers lightly, her heart torn.

She loved him-fiercely, desperately. But now she had seen the man beneath the mask, the darkness Victor had forced into the light.

The question whispered through her mind, chilling her to the bone.

Had she married a protector... or a predator?

And worse still-did it matter if her heart refused to let him go?

Amanda sat by the tall window, staring out into the garden that seemed so peaceful under the early morning sun. The roses were blooming, blood-red against the green, but all she could see was the flash of Damon's gun in that video. The sound of the gunshot replayed in her mind like a haunting melody.

Sleep had not come. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Damon-her Damon- cold and ruthless, a stranger cloaked in shadows.

When she heard the knock, she expected it to be Damon checking on her.

But when the guard slipped in, his expression uneasy, he handed Hera sleek black phone.

"This was delivered just now," he said quietly.

"Addressed to you, Mrs Blackwood."

Amanda's stomach dropped. She hadn't ordered anything, hadn't asked for any phone. Which meant only one thing.

Her hands trembled as she accepted it. The screen flickered on the moment her finger touched it. A single message appeared.

Victor Hale: Good morning, Amanda.

Her breath caught.

Her fingers hovered above the screen, trembling. She should have taken it straight to Damon. She should have crashed it, destroyed it, done anything but open the door Victor had slipped through.

But she typed.

Amanda: What do you want from me?

The reply was instant .

Victor: The truth. Something your husband has denied you from the very beginning.

Amanda swallowed hard, her pulse racing.

Amanda: And why should I believe you?

Victor: Because you've already seen it with your own eyes. Tell me, Amanda- how did it feel watching Damon kill? Cold? Merciless? That wasn't the first time, and it won't be the last.

Her heart clenched painfully. She wanted to deny it, to defend Damon. But the video replayed in her mind, her husband's expression as he pulled the trigger.

The typing bubble appeared again.

Victor: You don't have to answer now. Just know you have a choice. Stay with him, and you'll drown in his secrets. Or come to me. I can give you safety. Freedom.

Her hand shook as she turned off the screen.

But it was too late. The poison was in her veins.

When Damon found her later. she was still by the window, the phone hidden beneath a pillow. His eyes softened at the sight of her, though tension lingered in the set of his jaw.

"You've barely eaten," he murmured, crouching in front of her. His thumb brushed across her knuckles. "Talk to me, Amanda. Don't shut me out."

Her throat tightened. The urge to show him the phone was overwhelmed.

But the doubt Victor had planted curled around her heart like thorns.

"Do you regret it?" she whispered suddenly.

Damon's brow furrowed. "Regret what?"

"Killing him. The man in the video."

Silence stretched between them. Damon's jaw flexed. "Every day," he admitted at last. "But I don't regret why I did it. I don't regret protecting what was mine."

Tears stung her eyes. His words should have soothed her. Instead, they terrified her. Because she was his now- and what did it mean to be loved by a man willing to kill without hesitation?

That night, when Damon finally slept beside her, Amanda slipped from the bed. She moved quietly, her heart pounding until she reached the study.

The black phone glowed faintly in the dark. She picked it up, hesitating, before unlocking it.

A new message waited.

Victor: Couldn't sleep, could you? He's beside you, and yet you feel more alone than ever.

Her chest ached. She typed before she could stop herself.

Amanda: Why are you doing this?

Victor: Because I see you. I see the cage you're in Damon doesn't love you, Amanda. He possesses you. There's a difference.

Her breath hitched.

The phone slipped from her trembling fingers, clattering onto the desk.

She clutched her chest, gasping softly, afraid Damon might hear her breaking apart.

Dawn bled across the horizon when Damon stirred and found her still awake.