Ava turned to her left, then to her right, making sure no one was around the dimly lit hallway. It was almost three in the morning, but she was standing here. Her heart was racing as she drew in a deep breath to steady herself before stepping into the west wing.
The corridor was quiet and cold, shadows stretching along the walls. There were seven doors in total, three on the left, four on the right. Her eyes flicked between them, her pulse quickening as she moved closer.
She began testing each door, one by one, hoping one would open. But with every locked handle, her hope faded a little more.
By the sixth door, her hands were trembling. The knob didn't move. Locked again.
A part of her wanted to stop and go back to her room to give up before she was caught. But another part of her refused. She couldn't leave, not without trying every last door. She needed something to go on to give her hope.
So she walked to the final one, the last door at the end of the corridor. She stood in front of it for a few seconds, her hand hovering over the knob, her heartbeat loud in her ears. Then, she finally turned it.
A small gasp escaped her lips when she heard the soft click of the door as it opened.
Her pulse quickened. Carefully, she pushed the door open and slipped inside. She fumbled for the switch on the wall and flipped it on.
The moment the light filled the room, Ava froze.
She blinked once, then again, unsure if her eyes were playing tricks on her. Her steps slowed as she looked around, confusion and disbelief taking over.
The room was filled with paintings, dozens of them. Some were hung neatly on the walls; others leaned against the corners or stood on easels. White cloths covered a few, but the ones visible made her heart twist.
Every painting was of a woman.
In some, the woman was smiling; in others, she was reading a book or walking along a beach. The same woman was captured again and again, as if the artist couldn't stop painting her.
Ava's eyes moved slowly from one portrait to another, her throat tightening. Then she saw one that made her stop completely. The woman was standing beside a little boy. The child's face looked oddly familiar, and Ava's stomach dropped.
What is this place? she thought. Why does he have these?
She stepped closer, her fingers trembling as they brushed against the edge of one of the canvases. Her mind spun with questions. Who was the woman? Why was Damian keeping these hidden? And that boy… why did he look like someone she'd seen before?
She was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't hear the door behind her open.
It wasn't until the faint sound of it closing echoed through the room that she froze. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end.
She turned around abruptly, her heart almost dropping.
Her breath caught when her eyes met Damian's. He was standing by the door, one hand in his pocket, his gaze cold and unreadable. The dim light softened his features, but there was nothing soft in his expression.
Her stomach twisted. She couldn't tell if he was angry or calm, and somehow, that made it worse.
"Have you finally found what you were searching for?" he asked, his tone laced with mockery.
Ava's lips parted, but no words came out. Her heart pounded in her chest as she tried to think of what to say. She knew she was wrong. She had seen the "Private" sign but ignored it anyway. She just couldn't stop herself. She needed answers and answers he refused to give her.
That was why she had agreed to marry him, why she had signed his contract, why she wore the ring that felt more like a chain than a promise. None of it mattered as long as it brought her closer to Lily.
"I'm sorry for coming in here," she finally whispered, her voice barely above a breath. She took a step toward the door, trying to walk past him, but Damian moved first.
He stepped forward, blocking her path.
"Didn't you read the sign?" His voice was sharper now, the mockery gone, replaced by a cold edge that made her pulse race. "Or did you simply choose to ignore it?"
"I didn't take note of it," she said quickly, her voice trembling. "Like I said… I'm sorry."
She tried to move again, but he took two slow steps closer, closing the space between them. Instinctively, she stepped back, her breath hitching as her eyes met his icy gaze.
The air between them grew tense and heavy. His expression didn't change, but something dark flickered behind his eyes, a mix of anger and something else she couldn't name.
Before she could move, her back hit the wall. Damian leaned in slightly, his hand braced beside her. She could feel the heat of his body, the quiet danger in the way he stared down at her.
"Don't ever come here again," he said in a low voice, his tone calm but laced with warning. "Unless you're ready to find things you won't like."
His words made her chest tighten. She swallowed hard, refusing to look away even though fear coiled inside her.
"I don't care what you're hiding," she managed to whisper, though her voice shook.
A faint, humourless smile touched his lips as he leaned closer, so close she could feel his breath on her skin.
"You should," he murmured, his voice almost a whisper. "Because curiosity can be dangerous… even for you, Mrs. Cross."
Mrs Cross! Ava's breath hitched as his eyes lingered on her for a moment too long before he finally pushed away and left the room.
She stood frozen, her heart thundering in her chest, staring after him. she was torn between fear, anger, and confusion she couldn't explain.