Shadows of the Past
1199 Words
The sun had barely risen when Celeste woke to the sound of footsteps outside her bedroom door. She blinked against the soft glow filtering through the curtains, her pulse quickening as she sat up. Damian never came to her room this early.
Had something happened?
Her fingers curled around the sheets as the door creaked open, revealing not Damian—but one of his men. Marco, his right-hand man.
“Mrs. Blackwood,” he greeted in a clipped tone, his sharp eyes scanning the room before settling on her. “Mr. Blackwood is expecting you downstairs.”
A chill ran through her. Damian never ‘expected’ her anywhere unless it was something serious.
She slid out of bed, tightening the silk robe around her. “Did he say why?”
Marco’s expression remained impassive. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
That did nothing to ease her nerves.
She moved quickly, dressing in a fitted black dress that hugged her figure—a subconscious armor when facing Damian. If she had to stand in front of him, she wouldn’t do it looking weak.
By the time she made it downstairs, Damian was already waiting in the grand dining room, a steaming cup of coffee in hand. He looked as composed as ever—controlled, powerful, dangerous.
But there was something different about his expression this morning.
Something cold.
“Sit,” he said, motioning to the chair across from him.
Celeste hesitated before complying. “What’s this about?”
Damian took a slow sip of his coffee before setting the cup down. “I thought we should have an honest conversation.”
A bitter laugh nearly escaped her lips. “Honesty? That’s new.”
His eyes darkened. “I don’t appreciate being lied to, Celeste.”
Her heart skipped a beat. Did he know?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said carefully.
Damian leaned forward, his fingers tapping against the table. “Adrian. You were with him longer than you claimed, weren’t you?”
A sharp pang of dread shot through her.
“I already told you—he came to the gallery. I didn’t invite him.”
Damian studied her, his gaze sharp as a blade. “That part may be true. But what about the rest? What about what you’re hiding?”
Her throat tightened. Did he know about the past? About what Adrian used to mean to her?
“You’re being paranoid, Damian,” she said smoothly. “If you don’t trust me, that’s your problem.”
His lips curled into a dangerous smile. “Paranoid? Maybe. But you and I both know Adrian doesn’t just show up without a reason.”
Celeste forced herself to meet his gaze without flinching. She wouldn’t let him see her fear.
“If you think I’ve betrayed you,” she said quietly, “then do what you always do. Lock me away, control me, threaten me. That’s what you’re best at, isn’t it?”
Damian’s jaw clenched. For a moment, she thought he might lash out, but instead, he exhaled slowly and leaned back.
“You mistake my patience for weakness,” he murmured. “You think I won’t do something about this?”
Her stomach twisted. “What do you mean?”
Damian picked up his phone, scrolling through something before turning the screen toward her.
Her blood ran cold.
It was a photo. A grainy security image of her and Adrian at the gallery.
And it wasn’t just them talking. It was Adrian reaching for her hand. His fingers brushing against hers.
It was nothing—and yet, it was everything.
Damian’s expression remained unreadable, but his silence was louder than any accusation.
“You have until midnight,” he said finally, his voice eerily calm. “To decide if you want to stay in this marriage.”
Her breath caught. “And if I say no?”
He tilted his head, his smirk icy. “Then you’ll find out what happens when someone crosses me.”
Celeste’s hands curled into fists beneath the table. She had played this game with him before.
But this time?
This time, she wasn’t sure she could win.
A Dangerous Proposition
Celeste stormed out of the dining room, her heart pounding. Damian knew something—maybe not everything, but enough.
And that made him even more dangerous than before.
She needed to think. To breathe.
Her fingers fumbled for her phone as she stepped out onto the balcony, dialing the only person who could help.
“Celeste?” Adrian’s voice came through almost immediately. “Are you okay?”
She swallowed hard, gripping the railing. “No. Damian—he knows about us. Or at least, he suspects.”
A heavy silence followed before Adrian exhaled. “What do you need me to do?”
She hesitated. “I—I don’t know. I just needed to hear your voice.”
“Celeste, listen to me,” Adrian said firmly. “You don’t have to stay with him. You can leave. I can help you disappear.”
Her breath caught. Leave?
It was tempting. So tempting.
But Damian wasn’t a man she could just run from. He would find her. And if he found her with Adrian…
“That’s not an option,” she whispered. “Not yet.”
“Then what do you want, Celeste?”
She closed her eyes. What did she want?
Freedom.
Peace.
But most of all—she wanted to stop feeling like she was drowning.
“I don’t know,” she admitted softly.
And that was the most terrifying part of all.
Midnight Ultimatum
The clock struck 11:58 PM when Celeste stepped into Damian’s study.
He was sitting behind his desk, a glass of whiskey in his hand. His eyes flicked to her as she entered, but he said nothing.
She took a deep breath, steadying herself. “I’ve made my decision.”
Damian swirled the whiskey in his glass before setting it down. “I’m listening.”
She hesitated for only a second before stepping closer.
“I’ll stay.”
His expression didn’t change, but something in his posture shifted. “Wise choice.”
“But I have conditions,” she continued. “I want space. I want my own life. If you expect me to act like your wife in public, then I want my freedom in private.”
Damian stood slowly, stepping around the desk until he was right in front of her.
“You think you can negotiate with me, Celeste?” he murmured, his fingers brushing her cheek.
She refused to flinch. “I think you know that if you push me too far, I will find a way to leave.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then, to her shock, Damian smiled. A slow, dangerous smile.
“Fine,” he said. “You want freedom? I’ll give it to you.”
Celeste’s stomach twisted. Why did it feel like she had just walked into a trap?
Because with Damian Blackwood, nothing ever came without a price.
And she had a terrible feeling she was about to find out exactly what that price was.
- Writer
