Episode 22
The mansion was eerily silent.
The calm before a storm.
Aria stood near the window of the east wing, watching as dark clouds gathered over the Blackwood estate. The wind howled like a warning, rattling the glass panes. Servants whispered. Security doubled their patrols. And Lucien? He hadn't spoken to her in days.
Not since the letter.
It came three nights ago—sealed with black wax, bearing the crest of a raven pierced by a thorn. No name. No signature. Just a few words written in elegant, blood-red ink.
"The Blackwoods will fall."
Lucien had burned the letter immediately. His hands had trembled—but not with fear. With rage.
Since then, the mansion had shifted. The air was tense, like every breath carried the scent of blood and betrayal.
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The Past Unveiled
"Lucien, what's happening?" Aria had asked that first night.
He didn't answer.
He locked himself in the west wing with his most trusted advisors—men in tailored suits who looked more like assassins than businessmen.
Guards appeared at every exit. Surveillance intensified. The house, once a palace of power and control, had transformed into a fortress.
It was only later, through whispers and fragmented conversations, that Aria began to piece together the truth.
Lucien wasn't an only child.
He had a brother.
And that brother—Emerson Blackwood—had returned.
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The Bloodline War
Emerson was once the golden heir, the pride of the Blackwood family. But he had done the unthinkable—he had fallen in love with a Darcy. The Darcys were the Blackwoods' sworn enemies. That love had nearly destroyed the family.
Lucien's father, Victor Blackwood, had punished the lovers brutally.
He'd killed the woman and disowned Emerson, branding him a traitor.
Since then, Emerson vanished. Rumors said he'd died in Europe. Others claimed he had started his own empire in the shadows.
But now he was back.
And he had declared war.
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An Unexpected Arrival
That evening, Aria stood on the mansion's grand staircase when a black car rolled into the courtyard. A man stepped out, tall and elegant, in a white suit. His presence was commanding—like a ghost from a forgotten chapter.
Lucien met him at the door.
"I should kill you where you stand," Lucien hissed.
"You'd have to get in line," Emerson replied coolly.
The two men stared at each other, reflections and opposites.
Same blood. Different fates.
"I came to offer peace," Emerson said. "But it seems you're still the monster they raised you to be."
Lucien smirked. "Peace died the day you chose her over the family."
"She was my future!" Emerson shouted.
"She was a weapon!"
Their voices echoed through the hall. Aria watched from behind the marble pillar, unseen.
Emerson's eyes landed on her.
"She looks like her," he said quietly.
Lucien's face darkened.
"Leave her out of this."
Emerson smirked. "History repeats, Lucien. And you're too blind to see it."
With that, he walked out, leaving behind a silence more terrifying than a scream.
---
Preparation for War
The next few days were a blur.
Weapons arrived in secret crates. Former soldiers were hired as bodyguards. Underground allies pledged loyalty. The Blackwoods were preparing for battle—not in boardrooms, but on blood-soaked streets.
Lucien, usually calm and composed, became colder.
He trained day and night in the old cellar. Aria had found him once—shirtless, bruised, his fists bloodied from punching a leather bag until it split open.
"Lucien," she whispered, "you're bleeding."
"I can't afford to be weak," he growled.
"You're not weak," she said. "But if you fight like this, you'll lose more than blood."
For a moment, just one, she saw a flicker of emotion in his eyes.
"I've already lost everything," he replied. "I won't lose again."
---
The Hidden Room
Aria couldn't sit idle anymore.
She began exploring the mansion's restricted areas. If she was going to survive this war, she needed to understand what she was caught in.
One night, she followed a hallway that led to the forbidden west wing—once Victor Blackwood's private domain.
Behind a bookshelf, she discovered a hidden door. Inside was a cold, stone-walled room filled with old files, photographs, and a dusty piano.
She lit a candle and opened one of the drawers.
Inside were letters.
Dozens of them.
All addressed to Elena Darcy. Emerson's lover. The woman who died for love.
As she read them, Aria's hands trembled.
These weren't just love letters. They were plans—a plot for Emerson and Elena to escape, to fake their deaths and disappear forever.
But someone betrayed them.
And now, decades later, that betrayal was echoing back to destroy them all.
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The First Shot
That night, the mansion was attacked.
A single sniper bullet shattered the window in Lucien's office, grazing his arm.
Guards rushed. Alarms wailed.
Lucien was furious.
"They've made the first move," he told Aria, blood trickling from his shoulder. "Now I'll show them why the devil wears Blackwood."
He called an emergency council of his lieutenants.
Aria stood beside him—no longer just a pawn, but the devil's wife.
"They want war?" Lucien growled. "Then I'll burn every bridge between us. Emerson wants the Blackwoods? Let him fight through hell to get it."
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The Devil's Vow
Before dawn, Lucien came to Aria's room.
His eyes were tired. Haunted.
"I should've told you everything," he said. "But I didn't want you to see the monster they made me."
"You're not a monster," Aria whispered.
"I am," he replied. "But I'll be your monster. The one who fights for you."
He took her hand—gentle, for once.
"If I don't make it out of this war… promise me you'll run."
She shook her head. "I'm not leaving you."
"Then stay close," he whispered. "And don't look back."