Chapter 2
1068 Words
Chapter 2.
The morning sun peeked through the gap in the curtains, waking Elara from her restless sleep. She woke up with a heavy head, remembering the words Damien whispered last night: "I'm not the man you married."
The voice was still ringing in her ears.
She turned around. The place next to her was empty. The crumpled sheets were the only sign that the man had actually slept there last night even though he hadn't touched it again after the threat.
Elara got up, put on casual clothes, and left the room. Her steps were light, but her heart remained alert. Her goal was clear. find Adrian. Or at least someone who could explain why there was a strange man posing as her husband.
However, in every corridor of the Vale family home, everyone treated her as if nothing was unusual. The servants greeted her kindly, and when she asked for "Adrian," they simply pointed towards the back garden.
There, she saw Damien. He was sitting casually in a rattan chair, wearing a white shirt with the top button open. In front of him, Evelyn Vale-Elara's mother-in-law-was sipping tea.
"Do you have something to talk about, dear?" asked Evelyn with a smile, as if nothing was wrong.
Elara swallowed, her gaze moving from Damien to Evelyn. "I... just wanted to talk to Adrian alone."
Damien, who was pouring strong black coffee into his cup, gave her a glance. "We'll have plenty of time to talk later, Elara," he said in a sweet tone-in front of Evelyn.
As if she understood the charade being played out, Evelyn did not look surprised. In fact, she seemed to enjoy their company, as if she truly believed that the man before her was the real Adrian.
Elara held back. If she exploded now, no one would believe her. Everything was already in Damien's favor.
---
That afternoon, the Vale family held a follow-up party-after wedding luncheon-for important business people who were unable to attend last night's reception. Elara was forced to wear the expensive gown that had been prepared, then went down to meet the guests with Damien.
Sparkling crystal chandeliers, long tables full of food, and the sound of laughter filled the room.
That afternoon, the Vale family held an after-party at the wedding luncheon for important business people who were unable to attend the reception the night before. Elara was forced to wear the expensive dress that had been prepared and went downstairs to meet the guests with Damien.
Sparkling crystal chandeliers, long tables laden with food, and the sound of laughter filled the room.
Damien played his role perfectly. He shook hands, gave a calm smile, and even said the guests' names without hesitation. No one suspected a thing.
However, underneath that, Elara could feel Damien's overly tight grip on her hand not as a sign of love, but of control.
"You look... stiff," Damien muttered, still smiling at a guest. "If you don't break the ice, I won't hesitate to make you regret it."
That whisper made Elara's blood run cold. She forced her lips to purse, greeting the next guest while cursing the lie she had to live with.
As the program continued, he caught a glimpse of the photo on the large screen used to play their wedding slideshow. It had just been uploaded by the media. Elara looked at it for a long time-the white dress, the almost identical smile, but the look in the eyes of the man beside him... it wasn't the look of Adrian she knew. It was calculating, not gentle.
She felt sick to her stomach.
---
Hours later, as they walked out of the party room, Elara noticed something. As Damien smoothed his sleeves, the fabric fell away slightly, revealing a small tattoo on his wrist-a pattern of black lines forming a symbol that was unfamiliar to her.
Adrian had never had a tattoo.
Elara refrained from reacting immediately, but inwardly she was convinced: this man was not her husband.
---
In the days that followed, she began to note small differences. Damien always drank black coffee without sugar, while Adrian couldn't even stand the smell of coffee. Damien was allergic to peanuts, while Adrian was allergic to shrimp. The way he walked was also different-faster, steadier, like someone who was used to moving in an unsafe environment.
They were all pieces of a puzzle that formed a clear picture: this was not Adrian.
But the more certain he became, the harder it was to find a way to prove it. Damien is so good at playing the part in front of others, but when he's alone, he lets his true colors show-cold, cunning, and sometimes dangerous.
---
In the days that followed, he began to notice small differences. Damien always drank black coffee without sugar, while Adrian couldn't even stand the smell of coffee. Damien was allergic to peanuts, while Adrian was allergic to shrimp. The way he walked was also different - faster, steadier, like someone who was used to moving in an unsafe environment.
They were all pieces of the puzzle that formed a clear picture. This was not Adrian.
However, the more he was convinced, the harder it was to find a way to prove it. Damien was very good at playing a role in front of others, but when he was alone, he showed his true nature, cold, cunning, and sometimes dangerous.
---
That night, Elara was crossing the hallway to the kitchen when her steps stopped. From the study at the end of the hall, she heard Damien's voice.
The door was slightly ajar.
"Tonight's delivery must be on time," he said in a low but firm voice. "There's no room for error and make sure the target isn't missed."
Elara held her breath. Damien's voice changed, like he was giving orders to someone who was used to obeying him.
"Yes, at the same location. Don't worry about the pay, there will be a bonus if you finish early," he continued.
Elara's heartbeat pounded in her ears. Delivery? Target? The words echoed in her head, adding one more mystery to an already existing lie.
She backed away slowly, trying not to make a sound. But before she could turn around, Damien's gaze suddenly appeared in the doorway.
His piercing eyes stared straight at her and this time, there was no more fake smile.
- Writer
