Chapter 3 — Secrets Between Pages

The mansion was quieter at night.

Not peaceful.

Just… still.

Like the walls themselves were holding secrets too heavy to speak aloud.

After changing for dinner, Elena stood near the enormous bedroom windows, staring out toward the moonlit gardens below. The deep sapphire dress the maids prepared for her flowed softly around her figure, the silky fabric catching silver light whenever she moved.

Beautiful.

Elegant.

And entirely too formal for someone who still felt like a prisoner inside this mansion.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.

Brian entered moments later with his usual calm composure.

“Mr. Moretti will be ready for dinner shortly, Madam Elena.”

Elena hesitated briefly before speaking.

“Brian… would it be alright if I walked around the mansion alone for a little while first?”

Brian looked mildly surprised.

“Alone?”

“I just…” Elena glanced toward the hallway. “I need some air before dinner.”

Not physical air.

Mental air.

Everything inside the Moretti mansion felt overwhelming.

Brian studied her expression quietly before giving a respectful nod.

“Of course. However, some areas of the estate are restricted.”

Elena almost smiled faintly.

“Of course they are.”

A small trace of amusement flickered across Brian’s face before disappearing again.

“I will have someone accompany—”

“That’s okay,” Elena interrupted gently.

“I’d rather go by myself.”

After a moment, Brian nodded once more.

“As you wish, Madam Elena.”

Soon after, Elena wandered through the endless hallways alone.

At night, the mansion felt entirely different.

The golden lights dimmed lower while moonlight spilled through towering windows, stretching pale silver across the marble floors. Every hallway looked endless.

Every room seemed untouched by time.

Eventually, Elena found herself stopping before enormous double doors slightly hidden at the end of one corridor.

The library.

Curiosity immediately pulled her inside.

The room was breathtaking.

Towering shelves stretched from floor to ceiling filled with thousands of books, old records, and leather-bound journals. Rolling ladders rested against shelves while dim amber lamps illuminated sections of the massive room.

The scent of old paper and polished wood filled the air.

For the first time since arriving at the mansion—

Elena felt drawn somewhere.

Quietly, she wandered deeper between the shelves, fingertips brushing against old book spines until one particular title caught her attention.

Moretti & Hart International Ventures.

Her eyebrows furrowed slightly.

Hart.

Her family.

She carefully pulled the book free before sitting near one of the reading tables beneath a glowing lamp.

As she opened it, yellowed photographs slipped loosely between the pages.

Elena blinked in surprise.

One photograph showed two young boys laughing near an enormous fountain outside a lavish estate.

One had dark hair and sharp eyes she recognized instantly.

Damian’s father.

Beside him stood a boy with softer features and an easy smile.

Her father.

Below the photo, elegant handwriting read:

Lorenzo Moretti & Gabriel Hart — Summer Gala, 1987.

Elena stared quietly.

Gabriel Hart.

That suited him somehow.

Warm. Friendly. Trustworthy.

She continued reading slowly.

Apparently, decades ago, her grandfather had attended one of the wealthiest social events in the country hosted by the De Armond family — a dynasty famous for generational wealth and old aristocratic influence.

It had been called the party of the century.

But instead of attending properly—

Lorenzo Moretti and Gabriel Hart had hidden in the estate gardens to escape what they called

“another boring old people gathering.”

Elena smiled faintly while reading.

According to the records, the two boys spent the entire evening hiding inside bushes near the massive De Armond estate lake, stealing desserts from serving trays and making fun of politicians.

And somehow—

that became the beginning of an inseparable friendship.

Over the years, Lorenzo and Gabriel built businesses together from almost nothing.

Whenever people saw one—

the other was never far behind.

Elena turned another page slowly.

Then froze.

Several pages had been violently ripped out.

Not old damage.

Intentional damage.

The torn edges remained jagged as though someone removed the pages carelessly.

Elena frowned deeply.

Someone must have taken these out on purpose.

Immediately, she began searching nearby shelves for additional records or missing files.

One stack turned into another.

Then another.

Without realizing it—

time slipped away entirely.

Meanwhile—

Inside the west garden, Damian stood alone near the circular fountain surrounded by white roses.

The dinner prepared beneath the glass ceiling had already grown cold.

Soft candlelight flickered across the elegant table arranged beneath the indoor garden while moonlight poured through the crystal panels overhead.

Beautiful.

Quiet.

Empty.

Ten minutes passed.

Then twenty.

Then thirty.

His patience disappeared with every second.

The staff standing nearby remained painfully silent.

Nobody dared speak.

Damian slowly set down the crystal glass in his hand.

“Where is she?”

The question sounded calm.

Which somehow made it worse.

One maid nearly dropped an entire tray.

Several minutes later, Brian finally entered the garden.

Even his usually calm expression looked slightly tense.

“Mr. Moretti,” he said carefully, “Madam Elena is in the library.”

Silence.

Then Damian stood.

The movement alone made the atmosphere heavier.

Without another word, he walked away from the garden.

His footsteps echoed sharply through the corridors, irritation radiating from every step.

But beneath the frustration—

there was something else.

Relief.

The moment Damian entered the library, he stopped.

Moonlight poured through the tall windows illuminating the room in silver and gold.

And there she was.

Elena stood atop one of the rolling ladders wearing the sapphire dress that shimmered beneath the pale light like flowing midnight. Loose strands of black hair framed her face while several open books rested carelessly around her.

Beautiful.

Too beautiful for his peace of mind.

She reached higher toward another book resting near the top shelf—

Then the ladder shifted.

“Elena—”

Her balance slipped instantly.

A startled gasp escaped her lips as the ladder rolled sideways beneath her feet.

Without hesitation, Damian moved.

Fast.

By the time Elena fell—

his arms were already around her.

The impact knocked Damian hard against the cold marble floor beneath them.

Elena squeezed her eyes shut tightly, bracing herself for pain—

But none came.

No hard marble.

No sharp impact.

Only warmth.

Confused, she slowly opened her eyes.

And found Damian beneath her.

One arm wrapped tightly around her waist while the other protected the back of her head against his chest.

His silver hair had fallen slightly across his forehead from the fall, hazel eyes glowing beneath the moonlight as he stared up at her.

For one dangerous second—

neither of them moved.

Then Damian smirked faintly.

“Are you going to stare all night,” he asked lazily, “or are you planning to get off?”

Heat rushed instantly to Elena’s cheeks.

She scrambled upright quickly.

“I-I was fine,” she muttered defensively while avoiding his eyes. “You didn’t have to catch me.”

Damian rose slowly to his feet.

Before Elena could step away—

his arm suddenly pulled her firmly against him.

At that exact moment—

several heavy books crashed violently onto the floor beside them.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Elena startled softly.

One particularly large hardcover landed exactly where she had been standing seconds earlier.

Realization crossed her face immediately.

Damian looked down at her calmly, one arm still securely around her waist.

“Your awareness must be off then.”

His voice was low.

Too close.

Elena became painfully aware of everything at once.

The warmth of his body. The scent of expensive cologne. The steady heartbeat beneath his chest.

Then Damian’s gaze slowly lifted toward her face.

And stilled.

The teasing disappeared from his expression completely.

Something softer replaced it.

Something that looked almost dangerous in its own way.

“You look beautiful,” he said quietly.

The words barely sounded intentional.

More like a thought that escaped before he could stop it.

The moonlight caught the hidden hazel in his eyes again, softening the coldness that usually lived there.

And suddenly—

Elena forgot how to breathe.

The silence between them stretched dangerously long.

Neither of them moved.

Neither of them seemed willing to.

Then Damian’s gaze slowly drifted toward the scattered books surrounding them.

One title immediately caught his attention.

Moretti & Hart International Ventures.

The softness in his expression vanished almost instantly.

His jaw tightened subtly.

Elena noticed immediately.

“I was just reading,” she explained quickly. “I didn’t mean to invade your privacy.”

Damian bent down slowly and picked up the book from the floor.

For several seconds, he stared at the torn pages silently.

Unreadable.

Then finally—

“You shouldn’t dig into the past.”

His voice sounded calmer now.

Colder.

Elena frowned slightly.

“Why?”

Damian closed the book carefully.

“Because some things are better left buried.”

The answer only made her more suspicious.

She crossed her arms lightly.

“Those pages were ripped out on purpose.”

A long silence followed.

Then Damian looked at her again.

“Yes.”

No denial.

No excuse.

Just honesty.

Elena blinked slightly, caught off guard by how easily he admitted it.

“Who ripped them out?”

Damian’s expression remained unreadable.

“You ask too many dangerous questions.”

“And you avoid answering all of them.”

Something almost resembling amusement flickered briefly across his face.

Then disappeared.

Damian stepped closer slowly until barely any distance remained between them.

“You really want to know what happened between our families?”

His voice lowered.

Every instinct inside Elena warned her to stop.

But she couldn’t.

“Yes.”

Damian stared at her for several seconds.

Then quietly—

“One day.”

Elena frowned.

“One day what?”

“One day,” he repeated softly, “I’ll tell you everything.”

The words should have comforted her.

Instead, they sounded terrifying.

Because for the first time—

Damian Moretti sounded like a man carrying grief instead of hatred.

Before Elena could respond, Damian glanced toward the grandfather clock standing near the library entrance.

“It’s past dinner.”

Elena’s eyes widened slightly.

“I lost track of time.”

“I noticed.”

The dry sarcasm surprised a quiet laugh out of her before she could stop herself.

The sound echoed softly through the massive library.

And Damian froze.

Completely.

As though he had never heard something so beautiful before.

Elena noticed the way he stared at her afterward.

Intensely.

Silently.

The realization immediately made her self-conscious again.

She cleared her throat awkwardly.

“We should probably go.”

Damian blinked once, almost snapping himself out of whatever thought had trapped him.

“Yes,” he said quietly.

But neither of them moved immediately.

The tension remained there.

Heavy.

Dangerous.

Alive.

Then suddenly—

the library lights flickered once as thunder rumbled softly outside.

Rain began pouring against the tall windows moments later.

Elena startled slightly at the unexpected storm.

Damian noticed.

Without thinking, his hand rested gently against her lower back.

Protective.

Instinctive.

And entirely too natural.

“Come,” he murmured softly.

This time—

Elena didn’t pull away.

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