Zara couldn't sleep. The unknown message she received in the garden had lit something inside her a slow, simmering fire that she couldn't put out. For weeks, she'd tried to blend in, to avoid conflict. But now, the whispers, the looks, the subtle threats they had become too loud to ignore.
She sat at the vanity, brushing her hair slowly, her reflection staring back with new clarity. She wasn't just a pawn in someone else's game. Not anymore.
Downstairs, the household bustled with preparations. There was a corporate dinner being hosted at the mansion that evening, and several high-profile guests from Damien's business circle were expected. Zara had considered avoiding the event altogether. But not tonight.
Tonight, she would show them all that she wasn't going anywhere.
***
When Zara descended the staircase later that evening, every head turned. She wore a fitted midnight blue gown that clung to her like second skin, simple yet breathtaking. Her natural beauty was radiant, enhanced only by the confidence in her eyes.
Damien, standing by the fireplace with a glass of bourbon, looked up and felt his breath hitch. He'd seen her in dozens of outfits since she arrived but never like this. Never this... sure of herself.
"Who knew the stray could clean up so well?" Eleanor said from behind him, her voice laced with venom.
Damien ignored her. His eyes remained fixed on Zara as she approached.
"Good evening," she said smoothly, her voice steady, her gaze leveled at both him and the guests around them.
Damien nodded, offering his arm. "Shall we?"
Zara hesitated for a second but accepted it. The contact between them was warm, electric like a current she hadn't felt in weeks.
Throughout the evening, Zara played the role of the perfect hostess. She engaged the guests, charmed the room, and even subtly deflected rude comments from those trying to test her resolve. Celine tried to embarrass her with a toast, but Zara turned it around with wit and grace.
It wasn't lost on Damien. Nor on Eleanor, who watched her granddaughter-in-law with quiet pride.
Later, as the guests began to leave and the night settled, Damien found Zara alone by the fountain outside.
"You were incredible tonight," he said, his voice softer than she'd heard in days.
Zara looked at him. "I didn't do it for you."
"I know," he replied, stepping closer. "But I'm still grateful."
She crossed her arms. "Why do you keep pushing me away, Damien? You act like I'm invisible one moment, then show up when I least expect it."
His jaw tightened. "Because I'm trying to protect you."
"From what?"
"From me," he said, almost in a whisper. "From this world. From getting too close."
Zara stepped forward. "I never asked for protection. I asked for honesty."
They stood there, the tension between them thick and unspoken. But before anything more could be said, Lucille's voice called them in.
The moment broke. But something had shifted. The fire within Zara wasn't just burning it was starting to melt the ice around Damien's heart.