Chapter4
1147 Words
Chapter Four: Beneath the Ashes
“You’re shaking.”
Damien’s voice was quiet as we walked out of the gala after-party, but I didn’t respond.
I was. I was trembling. From adrenaline. From fear. From the knowledge that the man I had married—the man I was falling for despite myself—was hiding something that had everything to do with my father. And everything to do with me.
Vienna. Fire. Screams.
Damien reached for my arm. I flinched.
His hand dropped.
“I’ll explain,” he said.
“No,” I snapped, voice low but hard. “You’ll tell me. No riddles. No metaphors. No power plays. I want the truth, Damien. The real one. Or I swear I’ll burn down this entire illusion you built for us.”
He glanced around. Eyes on us. Phones pointed discreetly. A marriage crafted for cameras was being tested in full view of the world.
So he smiled. Pressed a kiss to my temple like a perfect husband. And whispered:
“We can’t talk here.”
Back in the penthouse, silence pressed around us like fog.
Damien poured a drink. I didn’t take it.
He finally said, “There was a fire. But it wasn’t just any fire. It was a massacre.”
My stomach turned. “What happened?”
“It was ten years ago. In Vienna. Your father’s company had a lab there—off the books. He used it for his more… questionable experiments. Military-grade tech. Human trials.”
“I never knew.”
“Of course you didn’t. You were fourteen. But your father was already making enemies. One of them sabotaged the lab. Lit it up from the inside.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I was there.”
The words landed like gunshots.
“You—what?”
“I infiltrated the lab on a job. To steal a prototype your father refused to sell. But before I could get it, someone else beat me to the punch. They torched the entire place. Dozens died. Including Cecily.”
I froze.
“You said she died because of love.”
“She did. She was there… because she followed him.”
My throat closed. “My father.”
Damien nodded slowly. “They were in love. Or she thought they were.”
I sat down, feeling the floor tilt beneath me. “Why didn’t I know any of this?”
“Because the people who survived buried it. Bribed it. Burned it. And because you were the one thing your father didn’t want touched.”
A sharp, ugly laugh escaped me. “So you married me to get revenge?”
“No.”
“Then why? What the hell do you want from me, Damien?”
He crossed the room and knelt in front of me, his voice ragged.
“I wanted justice. But then I saw you. And I realized you weren’t him. You were everything he’d tried to keep pure.”
I stared at him. “So I’m your redemption?”
“No,” he said softly. “You’re my ruin.”
That night, I couldn’t sleep.
Not because of what Damien said—but because of what he didn’t.
I searched the Vienna incident online. Almost nothing came up.
A two-sentence article. A vague corporate statement. Zero names.
It had been wiped.
But I knew a guy. Someone who owed me favors from the startup days.
I messaged him. Encrypted.
Me: Find the blacked-out reports on the Vienna fire. Look for names. Cross-check with Ryel Corp internal projects from 10 years ago.
Him: Jesus, Raya. This isn’t just NDA-breaking. It’s treason-level. You good?
Me: No. But I will be.
By morning, I had a reply.
Him: It was called Project Nox. And your name’s in the documents.
My blood turned cold.
What?
He sent a single line from a redacted file:
Test Group B: Subjects A through K—authorized by R. Thorne. Subject J: Raya Thorne (9).
Nine.
I had been nine years old.
I burst into Damien’s office.
He looked up from his laptop, surprised—and for once, unguarded.
“I was in that lab,” I said, throwing the printout on his desk. “My father didn’t just experiment on strangers. He experimented on me.”
Damien stared at the paper like it might bite.
“I didn’t know,” he said, voice rough. “Raya—I swear, I didn’t know he used his own daughter—”
“Don’t lie to me!”
He stood, walked around the desk. “I knew you were part of something. But I thought it was just proximity. Not this.”
“What was Project Nox?”
He hesitated. “A gene therapy trial. Designed to enhance neurological function under stress. But the side effects were catastrophic. Seizures. Neural collapse. Death.”
I felt the floor sway beneath me. “And I was a test subject.”
He touched my hand. “Maybe you were exposed. Maybe it didn’t affect you. We’ll run tests. Quietly.”
I yanked my hand away. “You should’ve told me the moment you suspected. You knew this wasn’t just about vengeance.”
His face hardened. “And what would you have done, Raya? Walked out of this marriage and blown up the only chance we had to take your father down for good?”
“I don’t care about revenge,” I snapped. “I care about the truth.”
“Then start acting like it. You’re in this now, whether you like it or not.”
We were inches apart, our breathing ragged.
“You think you control everything,” I hissed. “But you don’t own me. Not my body. Not my past.”
His voice was low and lethal. “You’re right. But I do know how to make powerful men fall. Starting with your father.”
He paused.
“And if I lose you in the process… then maybe that’s the price.”
I slapped him.
He didn’t flinch.
But I saw it.
That flicker.
That c***k in his armor.
That evening, I stepped out onto the balcony to clear my head.
Below, a sleek black car pulled into the private driveway.
A woman stepped out in a crimson coat.
Veronica.
Again.
Only this time, she didn’t come to talk.
She pulled a phone from her coat and made a call.
I stayed hidden in the shadows.
Her voice floated up—clear and dangerous.
“I found it. The drive Cecily left behind. It’s here. In this building.”
A pause.
“Yes. And Raya Thorne has no idea she’s sitting on the one thing that can destroy every man in that fire.”
My blood ran cold.
“She was the key all along. And tomorrow night, I’ll take it from her.”
- Writer
