Chapter 29
1252 Words
David's POV
I left Elias standing by the fountain.
He didn’t respond to what I said.
Didn’t deny it.
Didn’t confirm it either.
That silence was louder than any argument we could have had.
I walked back into the mansion, the echo of my footsteps trailing behind me down the corridor. My mind replayed the look in his eyes when I’d asked the question, calm, controlled. Too controlled. The kind of restraint that meant everything was being locked away behind steel doors.
He really did harbor feelings for Mara, just as I’d suspected.
I pushed the thought aside.
I entered my room and tossed my jacket over the chair by the desk. The lights were dim, warm, almost comforting. I loosened my tie slowly, fingers working on muscle memory, though my thoughts were still outside by the fountain, circling Elias’s silence.
I had barely unbuttoned my cuffs when her voice cut through the room.
“You came back with Mara.”
I paused.
Andrea was stretched out on the bed, one leg crossed over the other, her phone glowing in her hand. She hadn’t even looked up when she said it. Her tone was light. Casual. Almost bored.
I exhaled and turned toward her.
“So?” I said. “Is it that bad?”
That made her look up.
Slowly.
Her gaze slid from my face to my loosened tie, then back to my eyes, assessing, measuring. The corner of her mouth twitched, not quite a smile.
“Is it normal?” she asked. “Coming home with your ex when there’s a scandal involving you both all over the internet?”
I shrugged, unbothered on the surface. “I didn’t take my car out, Andrea.”
“And why is that?” she asked, boring straight into mine.
I said nothing. Didn’t know what to say, how to defend myself, or the situation.
Andrea hummed softly, tapping her screen before locking her phone and placing it beside her.
“It just seems,” she said carefully, “like you can’t let go of her.”
I let out a short laugh. “You’re reading too much into it.”
“Am I?”
I walked over to the dresser, pulled open a drawer, and tossed my cufflinks inside, deliberately turning my back to her. “People follow stories like sheep. Tomorrow, they’ll be onto something else.”
“That picture is everywhere, David.”
“And?”
“And you didn’t think,” she continued evenly, “about how it would look? You, her, late at night, driving her after everything?”
I turned around. “I didn’t post it.”
She tilted her head slightly. “I didn’t say you did.”
Something flickered in her eyes.
Brief.
Sharp.
I crossed my arms. “So what is this really about, Andrea?”
She sat up slowly, smoothing a hand over the sheets. “I’m just trying to understand why Mara still want you close to her.”
“She doesn’t.”
I'm the one who wants her more than anything, I corrected silently in my mind.
“But she does,” Andrea replied. “Why did you drive her back? You’ve never done that before.”
“Does that mean anything?”
“It does to people,” Andrea said. “And it does to me too.”
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “You’re making this bigger than it is.”
“No,” she said. “You’re making it smaller than it is.”
Silence settled between us—thick, unpleasant.
“Do you still love her?” she asked suddenly, breaking it.
That question.
She shouldn’t have asked it if she wasn’t prepared to bleed from the answer.
It took a few moments before I spoke again.
“That’s what this is about?”
“I’m just asking.”
“Don’t ask me things like that,” I said flatly.
She swung her legs off the bed and stood, walking toward me slowly, deliberately. “I don’t mind the truth,” she said. “I mind being lied to.”
I held her gaze. “Let’s not talk about her again.”
Andrea stopped in front of me.
“Funny,” she murmured, “because the past keeps walking back into your life.”
She reached out, straightening my collar with careful fingers. Her touch was light, intimate, almost tender.
“You know,” she continued quietly, “even if you did still love her, which I believe you don’t, and even if part of you wanted to go back…”
Her fingers tightened just slightly.
“I wouldn’t let that happen.”
I stiffened. “Andrea”
“We’re getting married,” she cut in, her voice calm, resolute. “That’s happening. This wedding is happening. Our future is happening.”
“You should calm down.”
She smiled again. “People don’t always have to try.”
I stepped back. “You’re being dramatic.”
She laughed softly. “Am I? Or am I just paying attention?”
I moved toward the window, needing space. “This insecurity is getting tiring.”
“Insecurity?” she echoed, amused. “No, David. This is certainty.”
I turned to her. “Certainty about what?”
“About us.”
She walked closer again. “I love you,” she said simply. “And when I love, I love completely.”
Something in her tone made my skin prickle.
“That means I protect what’s mine.”
I frowned.
She chuckled.
I stared at her. This wasn’t the naive Andrea I knew. She seemed different tonight—sharper, darker. Was this how she looked when jealousy stripped away the softness?
“What do you mean by that?” I asked.
“Don’t be dramatic,” she echoed mockingly. “I would never hurt you.”
Weird, but I didn’t respond.
She tilted her head, studying my face. “But someone who threatens what I love?” she continued lightly. “That’s different.”
My jaw tightened. “Are you threatening Mara?”
Andrea laughed, genuine this time. “Why would I do that? She's my sister-in-law. She’s my late brother’s wife.”
That word didn’t sit right.
“She’s part of the family,” Andrea went on. “And family understands sacrifices.”
The room felt smaller. Tighter.
“You’re twisting this,” I said. “Leave her out of it.
“Then you won’t mind,” she replied, “keeping your distance.”
I scoffed. “You don’t get to control who I speak to.”
“I don’t need to,” she said softly. “You’ll choose correctly.”
I stared at her. “And if I don’t?”
Her smile didn’t falter.
“You will.”
I swallowed. “You’re assuming a lot.”
“I’m planning,” she corrected.
She walked back to the bed, picked up her phone, and tapped the screen thoughtfully.
“Oh,” she added casually, “don’t forget, baby—our wedding shoot is soon. We should look lovely that day, don’t you think?”
I didn’t answer.
She looked up at me, eyes sharp, searching.
“If someone ever tries to come between us and our wedding,” she asked calmly, “what do you think should happen to them?”
The question lingered in the air.
And for the first time since I’d known Andrea, I saw something deadly behind her words.
- Writer
