Elora stood alone in the greenhouse, surrounded by rows of exotic flowers she once found comfort in. Now, they looked foreign—almost mocking. Her hands brushed a vine absentmindedly as her mind retraced every word of Lucian's confrontation.
He had doubts.
That alone was enough to crack the foundation of everything they'd built together.
"Dishonest," she whispered to herself, trying to understand how the word had been attached to her so easily. Who was feeding him lies? And why now?
She pulled out her phone and scrolled back to the message she had received. The same anonymous number. No new texts. No clue. Just silence. The kind that threatened to swallow her whole.
Then suddenly—
Buzz.
A new message popped up.
"You should be careful who you trust. Even love can be bought."
No name. No signature. Just words that made her fingers go cold.
—
Meanwhile, Lucian sat in his private study, watching the fire crackle while an envelope lay opened on his desk. The contents inside: Photos. One of Elora in a car with someone he didn't recognize. Another of her entering a strange building. Time-stamped. Curated. Designed to plant doubt.
He stared hard at them.
"She said she didn't do anything," he muttered to himself, rubbing his temples. "But why does everything feel like a setup?"
A soft knock pulled him from his thoughts.
It was Avale.
"Sir," he said, stepping in with the air of a man who had seen too much. "There's something you need to know."
Lucian's brow furrowed. "What is it now?"
Avale placed a small black USB stick on the desk. "Security footage. From last Thursday. I thought you might want to see this before anyone else does."
Lucian's eyes narrowed. "What's on it?"
"The gate camera caught someone entering the estate grounds through the maintenance entrance. Someone who wasn't scheduled."
Lucian stared at the USB. His instincts screamed at him.
"Play it."
Avale moved to the laptop, plugged it in, and loaded the file.
The screen flickered, then played footage of a tall figure cloaked in black slipping through the shadows. The camera caught only a glimpse of the face as the intruder turned for a second.
Lucian stood up slowly. His jaw tightened. "That's—"
"Someone we both know," Avale finished for him.
—
Elsewhere in the city, Alyssa arrived at a discreet address. The door was opened by the same cloaked figure from the footage.
"You were almost seen," she said with a sneer, stepping inside.
"I wanted to be seen," the figure replied coolly, pulling back the hood.
It was Callen. Elora's ex.
"You're playing with fire," Alyssa warned, but he smiled.
"No, darling. I am the fire. And Elora is going to learn what it feels like to burn."
—
Back at the estate, Elora sat at the edge of the fountain, the moonlight washing over her. She felt the tremble in her body and the tension in her chest.
She had tried to be the perfect wife.
But now, nothing was safe—not even love.
She closed her eyes and whispered, "Who are you, and what do you want from me?"
Behind her, someone watched silently from the shadows.
And in the distance, a second message blinked on her phone.
"Round two begins at midnight."
Thank you! Here's the continuation and completion of Chapter 14 from where we stopped:
Elora stepped forward slowly, her bare feet brushing the dew-damp grass as she followed the faint sound—no longer footsteps, but something else. A low, whispering hum, like voices rustling through the leaves. Her fingers tightened around the handle of the flashlight she carried, its beam slicing through the thick midnight air.
She reached the zobo plant—its bright red buds glowing faintly under the moonlight. That was when she saw it.
A piece of white paper, pinned to the base of the plant with a thorn.
Cautiously, she picked it up. The handwriting was elegant, familiar. It read:
"You only see what you're shown. But the garden keeps the truths buried. Ask him about the wedding night."
Her breath caught in her throat.
Wedding night?
The flashlight slipped slightly from her hand as her thoughts scattered. This garden, her sanctuary—was someone using it to manipulate her? Or was it warning her?
She turned sharply, sensing eyes on her. But when she scanned the shadows, she saw no one.
—
Back inside, Lucian poured himself a drink he wouldn't taste. His mind was racing.
The documents retrieved from Callen's lawyer were incomplete. Half of the files were shredded—who had gotten to them first?
A message had arrived earlier that evening: "Someone inside is still feeding Callen. You think she's free of it? Wake up."
He hadn't shown it to Elora. Not yet.
He couldn't decide what worried him more: that the message was lying… or that it might be true.
—
When Elora re-entered, Lucian turned toward her.
"You went outside," he said softly.
She nodded. "To clear my head."
"Did it help?"
She hesitated. "No."
Lucian stepped closer. "What's wrong?"
She studied his face, unsure of how to ask. The note in her pocket felt like it was burning a hole through her skin.
"Lucian," she said at last, "why did your mother cry at our wedding?"
He blinked, stunned by the question. "What?"
"On the night of our wedding. I saw her. She was crying… not tears of joy."
Lucian looked away. "She… she had reservations. She thought I rushed into it. That I was still—" He broke off.
"Still what?"
Lucian's jaw clenched. "Still in love with Alyssa."
Elora exhaled slowly. It wasn't the answer she feared, but it wasn't far.
"And were you?" she asked.
He looked at her, wounded. "I chose you, Elora."
"That's not what I asked."
Silence stretched between them like a wire ready to snap.
He finally spoke. "I wasn't over the betrayal. That's the truth. But I wasn't in love with her anymore—I wanted to move forward."
"And now?" she whispered.
"Now," he said, stepping closer, "I just want to keep us from falling apart."
Elora let out a bitter breath. "Then stop hiding things from me."
Lucian opened his mouth—but a soft chime interrupted. A new message on both their phones.
"Check the red box in your bookshelf. Now."
They stared at each other.
Then ran.
Lucian reached the bookshelf first, pulling back the row of books until he found it. A small red box tucked behind a row of classic novels.
Inside, there was only a USB stick—and a single note:
"Watch this. Then decide who's lying."
Elora reached for it. Her fingers trembled.
Lucian didn't stop her.
But deep down, both of them knew… after this, there'd be no going back.