Beneath The Mask
1173 Words
Liana gripped the steering wheel tightly as she pulled into the underground parking garage of Damian’s penthouse. The cold weight of uncertainty settled deep in her stomach. She hadn’t seen him since their confrontation earlier, and she wasn’t sure what to expect.
But she needed answers.
Stepping out of her car, she wrapped her coat tighter around her body, the night air sending a chill through her skin. The elevator ride to the top floor felt excruciatingly slow, each second stretching into an eternity.
When the doors slid open, Damian was already waiting for her.
“Liana,” he breathed, his expression unreadable.
Her heart twisted at the sight of him. He looked… different. Less controlled. Like the weight of his secrets was finally catching up to him.
“I’m here,” she said, stepping inside. “Now talk.”
Damian nodded and led her to his study. The room was dimly lit, lined with dark wooden bookshelves and a large desk at the center. But what caught Liana’s attention was the large board on the far wall—filled with newspaper clippings, photos, and documents.
Her breath hitched.
Some of the pictures were of her mother. Others were of men she didn’t recognize.
And at the center was Victor Wolfe.
“What the hell is this?” she demanded, turning to Damian.
His gaze darkened. “This is everything I know about your mother’s disappearance.”
Liana’s pulse pounded in her ears as she stepped closer, scanning the web of connections. It was overwhelming—years of research, piecing together a puzzle she hadn’t even known existed.
Her fingers trembled as she pointed to a grainy photo of her mother outside a luxurious mansion. “Where was this taken?”
Damian exhaled. “One of my father’s properties. She was last seen there before she vanished.”
Liana’s head spun. “So she was with him.”
Damian hesitated, then nodded. “Yes.”
Liana clenched her fists. “And you’ve known this all along?”
“I found out years after she disappeared,” Damian admitted. “At first, I thought it was just another affair. But then… I started digging.” He ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in his posture. “My father was dangerous, Liana. He had enemies. And anyone who crossed him—”
“Disappeared,” she finished, her voice barely above a whisper.
Damian’s silence was confirmation enough.
Liana’s chest tightened. She had spent years hoping, waiting, searching for some sign of her mother. And now, she was standing in front of a wall that all but confirmed her worst fears.
Her mother had been tangled in something dark. And she might not have escaped it alive.
Tears burned at the back of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
Damian stepped closer, his voice raw. “Because I didn’t want to lose you.”
Liana let out a hollow laugh. “And you thought lying to me was the way to keep me?”
Damian’s jaw tensed. “I didn’t lie. I just—” He exhaled. “I wanted to protect you.”
“I don’t need your protection,” she snapped. “I need the truth.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Damian turned to the desk and pulled out a folder. “There’s more,” he said, handing it to her.
Liana hesitated before taking it.
Inside were letters. Old, crumpled, but still legible.
She scanned the first one, her breath catching at the familiar handwriting.
Her mother’s.
Victor, she realized. She was writing to Victor Wolfe.
Her hands shook as she read:
Victor, I need to leave. I can’t do this anymore. If you ever cared about me, you’ll let me go. But if you don’t…
The last words were smudged, but Liana knew what they meant.
Her mother had been afraid.
She looked up at Damian, her voice barely a whisper. “Did your father let her go?”
Damian’s gaze was dark, haunted. “I don’t know.”
Liana’s stomach twisted. “You think he—”
“I don’t want to,” Damian admitted. “But if he didn’t, then someone else did.”
Liana’s mind spun. The weight of it all was crushing.
She closed the folder, her fingers gripping the edges. “I need to find out what really happened.”
Damian’s expression softened. “Then let me help you.”
Liana hesitated. Part of her wanted to push him away, to shut him out and figure this out on her own.
But another part—the part that still ached for him—knew she couldn’t do this alone.
She met his gaze. “Okay.”
Damian’s shoulders relaxed slightly. “There’s something else,” he said. “Something I didn’t want to believe, but…” He pulled out another document and handed it to her.
Liana’s heart stopped when she saw the name at the top.
Celeste Moreau.
Damian’s ex-lover.
Liana looked up sharply. “What does she have to do with this?”
Damian’s expression darkened. “She knows something. And she’s been waiting for the right time to use it.”
Liana’s blood ran cold.
Celeste had never made her hatred for Liana a secret. If she had information about her mother…
Liana clenched her jaw. “Then we find her.”
Damian nodded. “We will.”
But as Liana looked back at the board, at the tangled mess of secrets and lies, a chill ran down her spine.
Because deep down, she knew—the truth was going to cost them everything.
Sleep didn’t come easily. Liana lay awake, staring at the ceiling, replaying every piece of information she had learned. Her mother had been involved with Victor Wolfe. She had wanted to escape him. And then she had vanished.
Had her mother really died at Victor’s hands? Or was there something more?
Liana rolled onto her side, reaching for her phone. She hesitated before typing out a message to Damian.
Liana: Can’t sleep. Too many questions.
A few minutes passed before the screen lit up.
Damian: I know. Me too.
Another pause. Then—
Damian: Come over.
Liana’s heart skipped. She shouldn’t. She should keep her distance. But the truth was, she didn’t want to be alone tonight.
She grabbed her coat and keys before she could second-guess herself.
Damian was waiting for her when she arrived. He looked tired, his usual sharp edges softened in the dim light.
Without a word, he pulled her into his arms.
For a moment, Liana let herself sink into the warmth of him, into the safety of his embrace.
“Whatever happens,” Damian murmured against her hair, “we’ll face it together.”
Liana closed her eyes. “Promise?”
His grip tightened. “Promise.”
But deep down, she knew that promises didn’t always survive the truth.
And the truth was coming for them.
- Writer
