Elara's POV
The villa had changed.
It was subtle at first — hushed voices behind closed doors, a tension in the air that made the servants whisper when they thought no one was listening. Even the halls, wide and glittering with chandeliers, felt smaller somehow, as though the walls themselves were holding their breath.
I noticed it most when I carried trays upstairs. Isabella's laughter, once sharp and constant, had grown colder, thinner. Lucian, on the other hand, seemed quieter than ever, his silences stretched taut with something heavy and unspoken.
And me? I kept my head down. I told myself that whatever storm was brewing in this house had nothing to do with me. I was just the maid. Invisible. Unimportant.
But I could feel it — eyes on me when I crossed the hall, whispers that stopped when I entered a room.
I felt it when Isabella caught me one morning outside the study. She smiled too sweetly, her hand grazing my arm as if by accident.
"Careful where you wander, Elara," she murmured, her voice like silk wrapping around a blade. "Not every door in this house is meant for you."
Her gaze lingered, sharp and assessing, before she swept away, her perfume clinging to the air like poison.
I stood frozen, my tray trembling in my hands.
What had she meant?
Lucian's POV
From the upper landing, I saw the exchange. Isabella's saccharine smile, Elara's trembling hands. Rage coiled in my gut.
I had warned Isabella once. Clearly, that hadn't been enough.
I gripped the railing, fighting the urge to march down and drag Isabella out of this house myself. But Elara's wide, uncertain eyes stopped me. She didn't need my fury. Not yet. She needed my silence — my shadow — to protect her until I could act.
But inside, a promise sharpened like a blade: Isabella wouldn't touch her again.
Isabella's POV
The maid thought she was clever. Sweet little Elara, with her downcast eyes and trembling hands. But I had seen it — the way Lucian looked at her, the way he snapped at me for her sake.
A nobody. A nothing. And yet somehow, she had his attention.
It made my blood burn.
But I wasn't a woman to be replaced. Not by some fragile thing who barely knew how to walk these halls.
No, if Elara thought she could survive here, she was mistaken.
And I would make sure of it.