Ava sat by the large arched window of her bedroom. The flames of the fireplace cast dancing shadows against the ancient walls. It had been nearly a week since she had that nightmare, and it still lingered in her mind. While the days passed with an odd quiet, the nights whispered of things she couldn't name.
She stared at the darkened estate grounds outside. The fog rolled over the grass like a living thing, thick and slow. It veiled the garden statues in an eerie mist. The estate was beautiful. Yes gothic, grand, with a kind of haunting elegance but beneath its modern touches and polished surfaces, something pulsed, something old. Ava could feel it in her bones. The entire estate crept her out. She was restless as apart from the constant calls with her mom and Lila, the reports to her boss, she had basically nothing to do. She had explored the estate's library and taken walks around but she hadn't fully seen the estate in it entirety.
Damien had been distant, always on late night calls or tucked away in his study. He rarely spoke of business, and never about family, he rarely even spoke to her at all. It was as though the walls of Blackwood Hall had ears, and everyone within them knew what not to say.
Ava rubbed her arms and stood, restless.
As she wandered the hallway toward the staircase, she passed a large mirror hung in the corridor, a Baroque-style piece with an oxidized frame and fractured edges. She paused as her reflection stared back, but something felt... off. There was a second, barely a breath where her reflection didn't move when she did.
She froze.
Blinking, she stepped closer.
But then, it looked normal. Just her and her long hair falling over one shoulder, her pale blue robe brushing her ankles. Nothing strange. Maybe it was a trick of the firelight.
She turned away, but her heart raced.
Downstairs, the house was silent. The kind of silence that wasn't peace, but pressure, like something waiting.
~~~
The morning sun crept slowly across the grand Blackwood Estate, casting golden slants through tall windows and bathing the walls in a fleeting warmth. The house, however, remained steeped in its usual eerie stillness. Down one of its many halls, behind the double oak doors of the study, Damien sat alone, sipping his black coffee while reviewing the day's schedule. His suit jacket hung over the high-backed chair behind him, his sleeves rolled just below the elbows as his fingers flipped through documents.
There was an unusual tension in his jaw, and his eyes lingered longer than necessary on the pages, though his mind was far from the papers in front of him.
A quiet knock at the door broke his reverie.
"Come in," Damien said, his voice low.
The butler entered with his usual grace.
"Sir," he began, then hesitated.
Damien looked up. "Yes, Bernard? Anything to report."
"Yes sir, It's about your wife."
Damien arched an eyebrow. "What about her?"
"She's... been uneasy, sir. Mrs. Blackwood didn't eat breakfast. Emily said she looked pale this morning. Almost frightened. She claimed everything was fine, but... she isn't."
Damien leaned back in his chair, his expression unreadable. "Thank you, Bernard. I'll speak with her."
Bernard bowed slightly before leaving the room. Damien's fingers tapped slowly against the desk. He had seen it too, the fear in Ava. Something had happened.
Something he couldn't explain without opening doors he'd kept shut for years.
His phone buzzed, pulling him back to the present. It was a calendar reminder about meeting at Blackwood Enterprises HQ in one hour.
He stood, rolling down his sleeves and slipping on his jacket. The estate's walls felt even heavier this morning.
~~~
The Blackwood Enterprises headquarters was sleek and modern, a far cry from the haunting elegance of the estate. Damien's arrival turned heads, as it always did. Staff straightened, conversations hushed, and every step echoed with importance as he strode through the marble-floored corridors.
The boardroom was filled with the usual suspects, executives in sharp suits, department heads, and at the far end, Selene Carrington, lead strategist and co-owner of the Carrington firm, their long-standing partner.
Selene was beautiful, composed, and always immaculately dressed. Today, her form-fitting white dress accentuated her curves, and her lipstick was the same shade as the wine they usually toasted with after deals.
The meeting began.
Damien kept his focus on the agenda, dissecting market trends and deal terms with surgical precision. Selene, however, kept stealing glances at him, her lips curving in subtle amusement whenever their eyes met.
When the meeting concluded, most of the room filed out with handshakes and polite nods. Selene lingered.
"I must say, Damien," she began as she walked to his side, "You're still impossible to read. But the other night, I watched you more closely."
Damien packed his briefcase, offering no reaction.
She stepped closer. "The Ava girl… she's not like the women you used to entertain."
"She's my wife," he replied calmly, meeting her eyes.
"Is that so?" Selene smirked. "Then she must be very special... or very temporary. You haven't called me."
"Do I have to explain myself to you, you're not that significant." Damien said, his expression livid as usual.
Selene's face dropped. "What we had… Damien I love you, don't you see. I'm willing to do anything for you."
"We had nothing. We've established that fact already. I hate having to repeat myself."
Selene snapped. "What is it about her? She's plain, she's nothing like the women you prefer. She comes from nothing, she's nobody. Why…."
Selene's words were cut when Damien's hands went to grab her chin. She winced in pain.
"She's my wife. I hope that gets in." He said before letting her go. "There is a limit to which I can let your stupidity slide."
He picked up his briefcase and walked out, leaving Selene alone with her face twisted in pain, her expression dark.
As he stepped into his car and the city rushed by outside, Damien's expression turned blank once more. But inside, his thoughts were anything but calm.
He remembered Ava's pale face. The cold air in the hallway. The whisper in the shadows.
He was running out of time and soon she would too.