Chapter3
1324 Words
Chapter Three: The Ghost Between Us
I stared at the photograph in my hand, my thumb brushing the name written beneath the woman’s smile like a curse.
Cecily Voss.
My heart pounded.
This wasn’t just some tragic ex or forgotten relative. Cecily had been part of my father’s past. I remembered him murmuring her name during the worst of his insomnia—like a prayer. Or a regret.
She knew the cost of loving a Voss. And she paid it.
I carefully returned the photo to the desk, mind spinning.
Why would Damien hide her picture? Why keep it in his office at all?
If she was nothing to him, why keep her memory so close—and yet buried?
“Raya.”
His voice made me jolt.
I turned to find Damien in the doorway, barefoot, shirtless, and silent as a shadow.
“You shouldn’t be in here.”
“I could say the same to you. This room isn’t locked.”
He stepped inside, eyes narrowing as he saw the photo on his desk. “You were snooping.”
“I was breathing in a house where I’m monitored and managed like an accessory. Sorry if I got curious.”
He picked up the frame, staring at Cecily’s face for a long, loaded second.
“I don’t like people touching my things.”
“Then maybe don’t leave your ghosts lying around.”
His gaze snapped to mine.
“What do you know about her?” I demanded.
“Not enough,” he said quietly. “And too much.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It’s the only one you’ll get tonight.”
“Why? Because the truth makes you weak?”
He crossed the room in two strides. Too close. Too fast. I backed up instinctively, but he didn’t touch me—just loomed, his voice low and sharp.
“She died because of this world. Because she thought love could survive in a place like this. She was wrong. And so was I.”
The pain in his voice was real.
But so was the steel behind it.
“She was your lover?” I asked.
He flinched. “She was my sister.”
The words hit harder than a slap.
I stared at him, stunned. “What?”
“She wasn’t supposed to matter,” he said, turning his back. “But she fell in love with someone she shouldn’t have. And when he betrayed her, she paid the price.”
I sank into the nearest chair. “Who?”
Damien didn’t answer.
But I already knew.
My father.
The betrayal hit like ice in my veins.
“You think I’m like him?” I whispered. “Is that why you married me?”
He turned slowly. “No. I married you to control you. And maybe to protect you, in a way. But not because I thought you were him.”
I stood. “Then what, Damien? What is this between us? Because it’s not just business. You look at me like I’m a memory you want to burn and hold at the same time.”
His jaw clenched. “Don’t mistake chemistry for connection. That’s how people end up dead.”
He walked out, leaving the door open behind him.
And for the first time, I realized that beneath Damien Voss’s control… was a man haunted by more than power.
The next morning
Damien was gone by sunrise.
I found a message from his assistant:
“Mr. Voss will meet you at the gala after-party. Until then, remain presentable.”
I threw the phone across the couch.
But before I could scream into a pillow, a knock sounded at the front door.
I opened it—then immediately wished I hadn’t.
Adam Wells.
In a suit. Holding flowers like it was 2018 and I hadn’t watched him dismantle my life one lie at a time.
“What the hell are you doing here?” I snapped.
“Raya,” he said, all faux humility. “Can we talk?”
I stepped into the hall and shut the door behind me. “Say whatever it is, and then disappear.”
He held out the flowers. “I made a mistake.”
I barked a laugh. “Which one? Stealing my prototype? Ghosting me after promising funding? Sleeping with my co-founder?”
His jaw tightened. “I didn’t come here to fight. I came to warn you.”
That stopped me.
He leaned closer. “Damien isn’t who you think he is.”
“No kidding.”
“I’m serious. He’s dangerous. He has enemies all over the world, and some of them want you dead now too—just because you wear his ring.”
I crossed my arms. “And you’re concerned because…?”
“Because I still care about you.”
“Bullshit.”
His eyes sharpened. “Fine. Maybe I want to make amends. Or maybe I just don’t want to see your name in the obituaries.”
I was about to tell him to shove his apology when the elevator dinged.
Damien stepped out.
Slow. Precise. Lethal in black.
He didn’t speak. Didn’t blink.
He just walked up to Adam and punched him in the face.
Adam went down hard.
“Damien!” I shouted.
He grabbed Adam by the collar, hauling him up like a ragdoll. “If you come near my wife again, you’ll vanish so thoroughly your mother will forget you existed.”
Adam spat blood. “You don’t own her.”
Damien leaned in. “No. But she signed my contract. Which means you’re not in her story anymore.”
He dropped him.
Adam stumbled to his feet, glared at me like I was complicit in his bruises, and stormed into the elevator.
The doors closed with a satisfying ding.
Damien turned to me.
“You let him in?”
“I didn’t invite him.”
“I should’ve ended him years ago.”
“I’m capable of handling my exes without your fists, thank you very much.”
He stepped closer. “He touched what’s mine.”
I shoved him. “I’m not your property.”
His eyes burned. “No. But right now, you’re under my protection. And you’d better decide if you want to stay that way.”
I didn’t answer.
I just walked past him and slammed the door behind me.
That night, the after-party was held at a secluded rooftop bar, exclusive to billionaires and those who slept with them.
I wore a silver dress with open sides and a back that defied logic. Damien wore black on black, his expression unreadable.
We mingled.
We smiled.
We lied.
And then I saw her.
A woman with raven hair and blood-red lips, staring at me from the corner of the room like she knew me.
When she approached, Damien’s posture stiffened instantly.
“Raya,” he said under his breath. “Don’t say anything. Don’t make eye contact. Just follow me.”
Too late.
The woman stepped into our path.
“Damien,” she purred. “You didn’t tell me you’d replaced me with a stray.”
“Veronica,” Damien said tightly.
She smiled at me. “I used to be his everything. Now I’m just his threat.”
“Why are you here?” Damien asked.
“To remind you that secrets never stay buried. And that marrying her doesn’t erase your sins.”
She handed me a folded note and walked away.
I opened it while Damien hissed my name.
Inside, one sentence in red ink:
Ask him about the fire in Vienna.
And who died screaming your father’s name.
I looked up at Damien, who was watching me like a man walking a tightrope over hell.
“What happened in Vienna?” I asked quietly.
His face went completely blank.
But his silence was the loudest answer I’d ever heard.
- Writer
