Eighteen Years Ago….
"It wasn't my intention to do so. It was a mistake,
" a voice, soft and eerie said.
There was darkness. Screams. Crash. The smell of burnt rubber.
Eight years old Elara knelt, her hands placed on the semiconscious body that lay in front of her,
hair tattered, clothes stained with smoke and blood as the car crashed, its headlights scattered
round like shattered constellations across the dark road. A soft, weak voice broke out.
"Don't be
like me, dear. Stay strong. I love you…
"
Then an eerie silence stretched. Elara burst into tears. The night grew darker.
And then….
Steady and calculated footsteps emerged from the shadows.
"Come, let's go,
" the voice commanded.
Elara turned to face the figure.
"No. I don't want to go"
.
"Come on. Don't be stubborn"
.
"I said no"
.
"You'll have to come with me"
. The figure lifted her from the ground and into his arms.
"No!!! Let
me go,
" Elara said amidst tears while yanking his arms.
They disappeared into the shadows. Then the sound of sirens. Then silence.
*** *** *** *** *** ***
"You're marrying Damon Blackwood"
.
The study felt colder than a graveyard. Elara's heart pulsed and her blood ran cold as she
watched her father, Mr Paul Monroe, seated like an emperor at his desk with a glass of whiskey
placed neatly on the desk.
Her father's words felt like a trial.
"What? You can't be serious,
" she said, her hands holding the edge of the desk tightly.
Paul Monroe didn't answer at once. He simply glanced at her and sipped his drink. He gulped it
like a kind that knew that his words were final.
"My words were clear and you heard that. The engagement would be announced soon,
" he said
with finality.
Elara shook.
"You can't do this to me,father. I'm not some animal that can be sold"
.
Paul fixed his eyes on her.
"I can. And it's decided"
. He said, voice sharp.
"The Monroe's are
aligning with the Blackwood's. And marrying Damon would keep this family's legacy intact"
.
"Oh wow! So this is about legacy again? It was because of this, that terrible incident occurred
years ago"
, Elara stated.
"I'm still haunted by it, Dad. Please don't force me to marry a stranger,
"
Elara pleaded softly, hopping that her father would change his mind.
"Let the past remain in the past. Don't drag it to the present. You aren't marrying a stranger"
. He
paused.
"You're marrying the billionaire, the city's icon. Don't you get how lucky you are?"
.
Elara's heart bled. Her father didn't understand her.
"Lucky? This isn't luck, father. This is
chains"
.
"Call it whatever pleases you"
.
"What of the rumors about him?"
"Rumors are the weapons of the weak"
, he said, swirling his glass of whiskey.
"Damon
Blackwood doesn't thrive on that"
.
"Father, what of my desires?"
"Those don't matter. My words are final. No more arguments. You may leave"
. He dismissed her
unwillingly to listen any longer.
Elara's throat tightened. Her heart ached with pain. Her life was a chessboard. And she was a
pawn in it.
Later that night, Elara sank in her bed. Her thoughts raced. Her hands subconsciously moved to
her stomach. A cold chill ran down her spine.
"How will I hide this? I don't know what to do"
.
The secret was eating deep in her. Her sin. Her mistake. She couldn't reveal to anyone. Not her
father. Not Damon. Not even Ryan, her half brother. She felt the weight of it. She felt like being
heard. But who would hear her out?
"How can I get out of this?"
The next evening, Elara found herself at the Blackwood's mansion for the first time. The
mansion was large, well polished with an unsettling silence. There were no relatives. Just
servants. How could a man leave like that?
And then he appeared. He walked down the stairs like a man that controlled not just businesses
but the earth itself. His presence was suffocating.
"Wow!" He exclaimed, voice sharp.
"You're Elara Monroe. The one I'm to marry"
.
The word "marry" burned through her skin. She hated it.
She adjusted her dress, face straight.
"And you're the man who feels everyone gives in to his
control"
.
A sly smile played on his lips.
"I don't feel. I know so. Feelings are for the weak"
.
There was a brief silence, one dangerous and mysterious.
"It's not your choice to make decisions"
, he said closing the distance between them.
"You just
have to comply and endure. And trust me, I don't make that easy"
.
Elara's insides burned with rage.
"And I don't break easily. My silence doesn't mean my
vulnerability"
, she said, voice firm.
"You would be fooling yourself to think so"
, she spat.
"Fair enough. The fragile ones bore me. It would be fun playing with you,
" Damon said, drifting
away from her.
"Let's see how long you resist me"
.
Their eyes locked on each other. Each searching for each other's weakness. Damon's eyes
carried something dark and mysterious. It felt as though he knew something. Something
connected to Elara but unknown to her. But what was it?
The silence stretched.
Later that night, Elara returned to her house after her tense encounter with Damon. She lay on
her bed, playing with her fingers.
Just then the past flashed before her eyes.
A loud scream. The shards of glass. The smoke. The pool of blood. That soft voice ringing in
her ears.
"Ahhhhhhhh!!!!!"
, she screamed, pressing her hands on her ears.
"No, no. It wasn't supposed to
happen. She's gone"
.
What did she mean? Who was she referring to?
Her heart thundered. She could hear it beat rapidly. She ran to the bathroom and splashed
water on her face. She stared at her pale reflection on the mirror as she cleaned her face with a
towel.
"How long would I stay haunted by this?" She questioned rhetorically.
She retreated to her bed and then her phone buzzed.
She lifted it up. A single message appeared on her screen. The sender was unknown.
"Your mother wasn't the only one who had secrets"
Her brows furrowed in confusion. She couldn't understand. Her heart beat like a frantic drum
and her breath skipped. She dropped the phone on her bed and paced her room, thoughts
racing.
Who sent that? Who was aware? And how much of the past refused to stay buried?