The mansion was unusually silent, but Selene's heels thundered across the polished marble floor like war drums. Her pulse raced with every step as she stormed down the west wing hallway — Darian's private sanctuary. That part of the estate was a world of its own: decadent, secretive, and off-limits. But today, Selene had no intention of knocking.
Something had shifted in Amara. She smiled too easily. Her words were measured. Her eyes no longer looked lost. Selene had always been able to predict her sister's moves like clockwork — but now, nothing made sense.
She didn't like it.
Her fingers curled into fists as she reached the door. She didn't bother turning the handle gently. The door burst open with a slam — and what she saw turned her blood cold.
Darian was naked, his muscular frame glistening under the dim amber light. A young woman, no older than twenty, lay beneath him on the plush couch. Her legs were thrown over his shoulders as he pounded into her, grunting like an animal lost in heat.
The girl screamed, not from pain but raw pleasure, just as Darian's eyes snapped open.
"Selene?" he gasped.
Rage exploded through her.
"You bastard!" she screamed, rushing forward. She yanked the girl by her hair, pulling her from under him like a doll. The girl fell to the floor with a shriek, clutching a blanket around her.
Selene slapped Darian hard across the face. "You have time for this? For this nonsense? While our entire plan is unraveling?!"
Darian stood, unfazed by his nudity, his erection still semi-hard as he stepped toward her.
"We need to talk," he said coldly.
"No, we needed to talk a week ago! When Amara started acting like she grew a backbone overnight! You said she was harmless. That she wouldn't remember. That she was broken beyond repair."
Darian rubbed his cheek, expression darkening. "She is. Or… she was."
Selene's voice lowered to a venomous whisper. "You think I don't see it? Her closeness to Zane. The way she looks at us like she's five steps ahead."
"She's bluffing."
"No. She's changed."
Selene walked to the window, gripping the curtain so tightly her knuckles turned white. "We've waited too long. She's slipping through our fingers. And you're here—screwing a child!"
"She's twenty-three," Darian replied flatly.
Selene laughed bitterly. "And I'm twenty-five in my dreams. Get your head in the game. If she exposes us—"
"She won't," he interrupted.
"Are you sure about that?"
Darian said nothing.
Selene stared at him for a long moment. Then, with a last disgusted look, she stormed out.
---
Darian remained still.
His reflection in the mirror mocked him. His body — powerful, lean, desirable — looked untouched. But beneath the skin, everything was falling apart.
Zane. Always Zane.
Golden boy. The one everyone trusted.
---
Zane stared at the woman beside him. Amara's head rested on his shoulder as they watched a movie in the living room.
"Amara," Zane said quietly.
She looked up. "Hmm?"
"How did you find out about Selene and Darians plan?"
Her expression froze. "What?"
He turned to face her fully. "You said you knew what they did. That they betrayed you. But you used to love Darian. You were distant with me. Then, one day, you changed. Just like that."
She blinked. "I…"
He waited.
"I saw a message," she said finally. "A text on his phone. Months ago. From Selene. They were mocking me. Planning. I never told anyone. Not even you. I guess I was ashamed."
Zane nodded slowly. "And that was the moment you decided to be my wife again?"
"Yes," she whispered.
And I'm sorry.
He leaned in and kissed her forehead.
But his arms were stiff.
He didn't believe her.
Something seems off.
---
That night, Amara sat by the window, knees drawn to her chest.
The memories came without mercy.
She remembered how naive she was — how she had felt towards Darian. How she had kept the enemies so close.
How easy it was for her to be fooled.
And then… the night she and her unborn baby was brutally murdered, she thought she had lost everything.
That moment had broken her.
And remade her.
When she was given a second chance