chapter four
1323 Words
The instant Lily entered the living room, the now much softer buzz of the party had come back, as though the night had suddenly refocused in her absence. A laugh would ring out in little groups, glasses would clink on the opposite side, and a slurred tune would be heard in the background. To Lily, however, it was all one long, meaningless buzz. Her mind still remained on the rooftop--on Sebastian.
She could still feel the burden of his intense gaze and how his voice had changed to a guarded whisper, which was in some odd way more threatening than if raised in fear. Her heart had not stopped since.
And yet, as she re-joined the crowd, she wore a practiced smile like a mask.
“There you are!” Jules slipped next to her, heel-clinked across the polished floor, and gave Lily a glass of water. I was beginning to believe that you were lost around this penthouse. "Is everything okay?”
Lily forced a slight nod, taking the glass. "Yeah. I just needed some air."
Jules gave her a curious glance but didn’t pry.
Lily stood next to Jules quietly. She looked around the room toward Sebastian. He stood up, dressed extremely well in a black suit, with one of his hands in his pocket, nodding at someone speaking next to him. However, he was not so much listening; he was watching her. And he knew it.
There was a silent storm on the ride home. The Mercedes purred alone in the city streets, with rain spots clear in the streetlights. The only noise other than a beep here and there on the neon boards was the sound of the engine. Lily continued to sit at the window, her heart fluttering from the balcony incident. Sebastian was silent--his eyes on the road and the reflection of her face in the rearview mirror, pale and strained and not focused.
She had a dry throat. She was afraid her voice would break something between them, yet she could not breathe in the silence, closing them in... Finally, she turned. “Are you upset?”
His jaw clenched. “I’m not mad.”
“But you’re quiet.”
He glanced at her briefly. “I’m processing.”
Lily swallowed. Processing: a better word for ice in his tone than words.
The car drove past a club, and an intense blaze of light filled the side window. Sebastian clutched... “Lights,” he said quietly. “Too much." Sometimes the city reminds me how small I am.”
Lily’s hand lifted of its own accord, wanting to brush his arm. But she froze halfway. Laws in this car, remember: no steps unless he initiates. So instead she said, softly, “It was your choice to stop there.”
He nodded once. Then pulled the car through a tunnel, weary of lights, and back into soft darkness.
They came to the Blackwood house--a mysterious place of stone and glass. Lily had been there only a few days; the house was still freshly painted and laundered. Luxury, cold, untouched, sterile
The driver opened the door. Sebastian was out first, and Lily followed, clicking her heels. His hand was in his pocket like it was trying to find a weapon--she could not determine whether it was prudence or custom.
Within was the silent hush of a mansion - too big, too echoing. They ascended the grand staircase, quiet except for their shoes. Upstairs, they passed the locked door—her secret corridor—unopened. It was more threatening than anything to be there.
In the sitting room, a fireplace crackled softly. Lily exhaled, stepping forward. “Can we talk?”
Sebastian closed the distance swiftly. “About?”
Her nerves teetered. “Tonight. The ballroom. Marianne.”
He looked down at her. “She never asked to return. I never... invited her.”
She leaned forward. “So, was Ava lying?”
He hesitated. “Half-truths.” The words tasted bitter. “I hadn’t proposed to her weeks earlier. But she expected I might. That was her story to tell.”
Lily drew a shaky breath. “Why bring her up?”
A silence that screamed.
Then, deliberately: “Because secrets—especially the half-truths—they can kill."
Lily froze. His voice was a weapon. Over her head, he began to whisper his power: she was bound.
Dinner sat untouched on a brass tray. Her mind raced with the words on the balcony—the contract silent, the phrase: I chose you because you’ll do what she couldn’t.
“What did you mean?” She swallowed. “That I owe—”
“Nothing,” he interrupted. “You owe nothing.”
Her breath caught. “Then…”
He ruffled his hair. You owe me this; you remain silent. You honor the contract. You never mention Marianne. Or Ava. Or the locked door. Those are my secrets.”
Lily felt something c***k inside her. It wasn’t anger—not yet. But fear. That he couldn’t bear to speak what she felt could save them both.
She nodded. Quietly. “I understand.”
He paused, eyes softening a fraction. “Good.”
The car came again the next night to take her to the hospital. Daniel had complications again. Lily's tears were reflected in the streetlights. Sebastian leaned forward, phone in hand.
“I arranged for a direct line,” he said. “They’ll let you speak to the nurse.”
They drove fast—streetlights cutting streaks in the glass. Lily gripped the phone as she raced to the voice of the older nurse, tracing Daniel's vitals.
“He’s weaker now,” the nurse’s voice was gentle. “We’re adjusting the medications, but…”
Lily squeezed the phone. “I’m on my way.”
“Slow down,” Sebastian murmured. “It’s unreliable to drive fast at night.”
Lily forced a shaky laugh. “Maybe not as unreliable as needing someone to tell me he’s alive.”
He left her alone with the nurse by speakerphone, but he never tried to leave the car—instead, he leaned over to listen, eyes closed, while Lily's tears stained the handset.
Back home, silence had worn on Lily’s spine. Sebastian waited behind the glass staircase railing, eyes flicking with worry when she returned. She tried to compose herself.
“He’s stable,” she whispered. “Medication’s working.”
For a moment, Sebastian stepped forward—closer than he had in days—and gently touched her shoulder. "You did this," he said simply. "It's because of you he's okay."
The truth spilt cold. His words made her feel small and powerful at once.
She looked up’' Without your help I could not have done it.'
He nodded, without taking his hand away fully. He rarely touched her. When he did…
Late that night, Lily crept back to the locked door. Too late to stay away. Her key—her final rope to freedom—rested in her palm.
But she couldn’t open it.
She pressed her ear hard. Nothing.
Defeated, she turned.
Behind her, Sebastian.
Always there.
His eyes were dark.
” Did you really think I wouldn’t see?” he said softly.
Her throat burned. “It’s just curiosity.”
He came to her, hand out.
“Give me the key,” he said.
Her chest tightened, but she did. She opened the keyhole, and it was just enough to remove it. Closing again. The finality of it hurt.
He whispered: “Trust me.”
As Lily retreated to bed, alone, she replayed the night.
She was trapped—but maybe, just barely, beginning to trust the trap.
She had a billionaire husband. A hospital to fight. A secret door. And a chance to find herself again.
Her heartbeat slowed. Tomorrow, she'll need her strength.
Because this fight—his and hers—had only just begun.
- Writer
