Victoria closed the heavy double doors of the private living room, sealing the three of them inside with the crackle of the hearth.
She turned to face them, crossing her arms, her gaze sharp and dissecting.
"What is going on between the two of you?"
Victoria demanded, her voice tight with exasperation.
"You are screaming in the halls, glaring across dinner tables, and ready to tear each other apart in front of guests and staff. The entire world outside is waiting for this family to collapse, and you’re handing them the match. Whatever this is, you need to sort it out."
"It’s already sorted," Damian replied smoothly, his hands resting casually in his trouser pockets, his face an impenetrable wall of composure.
Victoria’s eyes narrowed. "Don’t insult my intelligence, Damian." She turned her gaze to Anastasia. "Anastasia? Is it sorted?"
Ana looked from Victoria’s searching eyes to Damian’s unyielding profile. Her chest tightened, the memory of his cruel confession in the library burning fresh in her mind.
"Yes," Ana said quietly, her voice devoid of warmth. "It’s sorted."
Victoria let out a long, heavy sigh of defeat, pressing two fingers against the bridge of her nose. She knew better.
Trouble in paradise was written across every stiff line of their bodies, but if neither was willing to yield, there was nothing more she could pry open.
"You need to understand each other in difficult times instead of pointing fingers and placing blame," Victoria said softly, looking between them. "You are grown adults, not reckless children. This is your second chance... your second time choosing to build a life together. Don’t you love each other?"
"I do," Damian said without a single second of hesitation.
Ana’s head snapped toward him, her breath catching in pure shock.
The ease with which the lie rolled off his tongue made a spike of furious nausea twist in her gut. He had just looked her in the eyes upstairs and told her love was a weakness he was incapable of feeling.
Yet here he was, delivering the perfect, polished line to his mother without a flicker of remorse. It angered her. It frustrated her to her very core.
Victoria turned back to Ana, watching her closely. "Anastasia? Do you feel the same about him?"
Ana froze. The silence in the room stretched, suffocating and heavy under Damian’s dark, watchful stare.
She bit her trembling lower lip, digging her nails into the palms of her hands until the sting grounded her.
"I do," Ana whispered.
The words tasted like ash. As soon as the lie left her mouth, something fragile and irreplaceable inside her shattered completely. Saying it out loud felt like a violation... as if a piece of her dignity had been violently stripped away to keep up his twisted charade.
Victoria looked at them for a long moment, tension lingering in her gaze, before nodding slowly.
"Then start acting like a couple who will stand together when crisis comes," Victoria said firmly. "Because right now, this family cannot afford another crack."
_________________________
The heavy mahogany doors clicked open, breaking the brittle tension in the room.
Jullian stepped inside, now wearing a dry charcoal knit sweater provided by the estate staff. The dampness was gone from his clothes, but the haunted, restless anxiety behind his eyes remained.
He moved across the hardwood floor and sank heavily onto one of the vacant leather sofas opposite them, rubbing both hands over his face.
Anastasia leaned forward instinctively, the desperate urge to demand every detail about Clara clawing at her throat.
Before she could utter a single syllable, a broad, heavy hand came down over her lap.
Damian’s fingers clamped over her thighs, the firm, possessive weight pinning her in place and silencing her instantly. Ana’s breath hitched.
She whipped her head toward him, her eyes wide with sharp question and blazing resentment, but Damian didn’t spare her a single glance. His obsidian gaze remained fixed dead ahead on his friend.
"Why are you here, Jullian?" Damian’s low baritone cut straight through the room, cold and calculating. "If you believe Clara is missing, you’ve already mobilized your own private security and run tracing grids. You didn’t breach my lockdown just to tell me she isn’t answering her phone. Why come to Northwood?"
Jullian looked up, his gaze shifting between Damian’s rigid posture and Ana’s pale, restrained expression. He leaned his elbows on his knees, his jaw tight.
"Because after everything that’s happened... I think Vivian is the one who took her," Jullian confessed, the words heavy and grim.
Damian’s eyes narrowed into sharp, lethal slits. "Clara refused to file the criminal complaint against Vivian weeks ago. She walked out of my office to protect herself and stay out of the line of fire. Why would Vivian move on her now?"
Jullian let out a hollow, ragged breath, running a hand back through his blonde hair.
"Because of Mia," Jullian said, his voice dropping into a tense whisper.
"A few days ago, when Vivian’s ex-assistant was found murdered in that alley, Clara couldn’t stomach it anymore. She realized Vivian wasn’t just intimidating people... she was silencing anyone tied to her crimes. The guilt ate her alive, Damian. So Clara finally went down to the central police precinct and officially filed the sworn statement about the alley attack."
Anastasia gasped, a cold jolt of horror shooting through her veins.
"She went alone?" Ana blurted out, her voice trembling. "Clara went to the police by herself?"
"She didn’t tell a soul," Jullian said, his voice cracking with raw frustration. "She thought she was doing the right thing quietly. But Vivian must have ears everywhere. The second that statement was logged into the precinct database, Clara became an active loose end."
Ana stared at Jullian, her chest tightening as the pieces refused to fit together.
"How do you even know she filed the complaint, Jullian?" Ana asked, her voice trembling with rising panic and confusion. "And why were you at her apartment in the first place? What is really going on between you two?"
Damian’s hand remained firm on Ana’s lap, his dark eyes shifting to his friend with sharp, unyielding intensity.
Jullian looked down at the floor, his jaw working as he ran a hand over the back of his neck. The smooth, untouchable charm of Jullian Montgomery was completely stripped away, leaving only raw exhaustion and vulnerability.
"Because I’ve been pursuing her," Jullian admitted quietly, the confession hanging heavy in the quiet room.
He lifted his head, meeting Ana’s stunned gaze.
"Ever since that night in the parking garage, I couldn’t get her out of my head. I’ve been trying to take her out, showing up after her shifts, trying to get past that fierce wall she puts up around everyone."
Jullian said, his voice rough around the edges.
"Two nights ago, I drove over to her apartment building hoping to catch her. Instead, I found her sitting on the curb in the rain, crying her eyes out."
Ana’s heart broke for her friend. "Clara was crying?"
"She was completely breaking down."
Jullian murmured, his fists clenching tight on his knees.
"I pulled over, sat with her on the street, and tried to comfort her until she finally stopped shaking. That’s when she broke. She told me everything... how Mia’s murder made her feel like a coward, and how she had just walked out of the central precinct after giving the detectives her full testimony against Vivian."
Jullian swallowed hard, his throat bobbing with raw emotion.
"I told her she was reckless, that she should have let me put private security around her building immediately."
He continued, his voice cracking.
"She refused. She told me she just wanted to go inside, sleep, and pretend her life was normal for one night. So when her phone went completely dead this morning and she didn’t show up for work... I drove straight to her place. Her front door was unlocked, her living room was trashed, and she was gone."
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