The Hale mansion had begun to feel like a shrine to silence. Every sound seemed too loud, every shadow too close.
Ayla moved quietly through the living room, dusting the marble shelves just to stay busy. She had learned that movement even useless movement kept her sane.
The doorbell cut through the quiet.
Damien's voice echoed from the foyer.
"Elias," he greeted smoothly.
She froze. Elias?
When she turned, the man standing beside Damien was like sunlight through a storm cloud easy smile, sharp suit, eyes that saw too much.
"An old friend," Damien said, resting a possessive hand on her shoulder. "Back from London."
"Friend?" Elias smiled, extending a hand toward her. "I'd say he tolerates me at best."
Ayla hesitated before shaking his hand. His touch was warm, confident, and somehow… kind. It startled her.
Damien noticed.
Dinner that evening was a performance. Damien poured wine, Elias told stories, Ayla listened.
But the undercurrent was something else entirely. Every time Elias looked at her really looked at her Damien's smile tightened a fraction.
"So," Elias said, his gaze never leaving hers, "what do you do to pass the time here, Mrs. Hale?"
"I paint," she said quietly. "Sometimes."
"Ah. The quiet kind of rebellion," he said, voice playful but knowing.
Damien's laugh was too sharp. "She paints what I approve."
The table fell silent for a moment too long.
Elias leaned back in his chair, eyes glinting. "Of course. How else would you keep perfection so well preserved?"
It sounded like a compliment. It wasn't.
Later, as Elias left, Damien walked him to the door.
"You like testing boundaries," Damien said softly, a smile stretched thin.
Elias shrugged. "Boundaries keep things interesting. Don't they?"
When he was gone, Damien lingered at the window, watching his friend's car disappear into the rain.
He didn't trust him. He didn't trust anyone near her.
And as he turned back toward the darkened hall, his mind whispered one quiet, dangerous thought:
> If Elias wanted to play with fire, Damien would make sure he burned.