Chapter 18
1006 Words
*Early Morning*
Elena’s POV
The sunlight filtered through the blinds, painting stripes across the polished floor of her room.
She sat in the small chair by the window, hands resting on her lap, waiting for the nurse to arrive. The new medication had a routine now, and a rhythm she had begun to anticipate — the footsteps, the jingle of the cart, the familiar hum of quiet concern.
She hadn’t asked for it to be brought so early, and hadn't insisted on the schedule.
Yet, there it was. A small tray of pills, neatly organized, a glass of water beside them. She exhaled, steadying herself, lifting the first capsule carefully. Every swallow was a reminder of the fragile balance she now lived on.
She didn’t notice the figure standing outside the gates, hidden just enough in the shadowed treeline, the lens of a camera pointed directly toward her window.
Veronica's Private Investigator POV
He crouched low, the morning chill brushing against his jacket. The penthouse above wasn’t his target, it was the Blackwood estate.
He adjusted the camera, the lens capturing the small motions of the woman inside.
She moved carefully, unaware of the focus trained on her.
He documented the pills, the water, the subtle hesitations, the way her fingers trembled just slightly when the glass touched her lips.
Others might see only a woman taking medicine, but the intended recipients would read it differently, vulnerable and exposed.
He didn’t stay longer than necessary. A few more snaps, each frame confirming the story he was hired to capture. Then, just as silently as he had arrived, he retreated, melting back into the shadows before anyone could notice.
Nathan's POV
Nathan sat in his study, the phone hovering just above the desk, an anonymous email blinking in his inbox.
He opened it, curiosity sharpening his features, his fingers paused over the keyboard.
The pictures inside made him frown almost immediately. Elena, receiving medication, her expression calm but exhausted. It felt as though her body was used to enduring.
His mind flickered to the last conversation he had with her at the hospital. Yet, as he looked at the images now, a thought settled in his veins; leverage.
He forwarded the pictures immediately, subject line left blank, to Clarissa.
Clarissa's POV
Clarissa’s morning had started lazily, a cup of coffee in hand, lounging on the cream sofa of her downtown apartment. The email notification jolted her upright.
She opened it and paused, a smirk slowly creeping across her face as the images loaded.
Elena Morgan, alone, receiving medication. So many stories could be spun from this. So many ways to manipulate perception.
The carefully crafted facade of vulnerability would be more than enough for the world or Nathan to believe in a scandal.
Clarissa set her coffee aside, the wheels in her mind already turning. If Nathan wanted this, she could make it bigger. More pointed. The media loves a story about a frail heroine in peril.
A woman, a sickly figure in the care of someone powerful can be easy to twist into a narrative of scandal.
Her fingers tapped against the tablet, outlining a plan. This wasn’t just about seeing Elena vulnerable. This was about creating pressure, testing limits, and controlling perception.
*Blackwood Estate*
Damian’s POV
Damian didn’t notice the intrusion.
The estate buzzed with routine. Damian’s mind, however, was elsewhere.
He had anticipated attempts to probe Elena’s world, of course. Veronica wouldn’t simply wait. But still, he hadn’t expected such precision, such professionalism. A professional watching every movement, documenting every small detail.
He paced quietly in his office, hands steepled beneath his chin. Each tick of the clock pressed against him, a reminder that Elena’s peace, fragile as it was, could be shattered at any moment.
He needed contingencies, safeguards. Invisible walls around her routine, measures she didn’t even know were in place.
He tapped Leo’s secure line. “Increase the digital sweep. Check for any cameras, signals, unusual transmissions near the estate. I want everything clean. Tonight, tomorrow, until I say otherwise.”
Leo’s voice was calm. “Understood. It’ll take time.”
“Do it anyway,” Damian replied. “She won’t know and she doesn’t need to.”
Elena’s POV
Elena adjusted the pillows behind her as she sank into the chaise in the conservatory, still cradling the small pillbox that had arrived earlier that morning.
She thought she was alone and she had a moment of quiet, but then a fleeting sense of unease prickled at her. The feeling wasn’t tangible, but it was sharp enough to make her glance toward the French doors.
The silence that wasn’t normal, a tension she couldn’t place.
She shook it off, focusing on the book in her hands. Concentrating on the words, even though comprehension escaped her, and even though her thoughts kept slipping back to Damian, to Emma, to the new treatments, to the way life had changed overnight.
Somewhere, in another part of the city, Clarissa was already plotting. Somewhere, Nathan was readying a reaction. She didn’t know it yet, but the seeds of a public storm had been sown.
Veronica's POV
The penthouse was dark except for the screens of her devices. Veronica watched, smiling thinly, as the images filtered across the monitors, one by one.
She swirled the wine in her glass, eyes narrowing. “This is just the beginning,” she murmured. “We’ll see how long the delicate little act lasts before it cracks.”
She could feel it. The tension in her fingertips. The thrill of control. The slow dance of manipulation that had become her signature and she had no intention of losing.
Elena’s POV
She sat by the fountain again, reflecting on the day, on the odd unease that had hovered around her.
She didn't know what it was, but she did know one thing. She wasn’t alone.
Her thoughts drifted to Damian, wondering what he was doing at that moment. She felt a sense of gratitude for his protective presence in her life.
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