A floorboard creaked somewhere above her. The sound was small, but in the silence of the study it cracked like thunder. Lily's fingers tightened on the edge of the desk.
She shouldn't be here. She shouldn't have seen the photo, heard Ethan's call, or learned that Adrian was in Morocco. Every instinct screamed at her to run back to her room, lock the door, pretend she hadn't discovered anything.
But she didn't move.
She stared at the photograph one last time, the red date bleeding like a warning. What happened the day he disappeared? she wondered.
A soft click behind her made her spin.
Ethan stood in the doorway, one hand on the frame, his shirt sleeves rolled to the elbows. He wasn't supposed to be there; she'd heard his footsteps going upstairs. His eyes swept over the study, then landed on her — the photograph still in her hand.
His jaw tightened. "Find what you were looking for?"
Lily's heart hammered. "I— I couldn't sleep. I was just—"
"Looking through my things?" His voice was quiet, but it cut sharper than a shout.
She set the photo down quickly, palms sweating. "You lied to me. You said Adrian ran, but you didn't tell me where. You didn't tell me—"
He crossed the room slowly, like a predator closing in on prey. "You think you're ready for the truth?"
"I have a right to know," she whispered.
He stopped so close she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes. In the dim light his face looked carved from stone. "No," he said softly. "You have a right to live. That's all."
The words sent a shiver down her spine. "What does that even mean?"
His gaze flicked to the photograph, then back to her. "Put it down, Lily. And stay out of my study."
She didn't move. "Or what?"
For a heartbeat, something flickered in his eyes — not anger, but something darker, heavier. Then he leaned in, his breath brushing her ear. "Or you'll regret finding out."
A tremor went through her. He straightened, turned, and left the room without another word. The door shut with a soft click that felt louder than a lock.
Lily stood frozen, staring at the empty doorway. She wasn't sure if he'd threatened her or warned her.
Either way, she now knew two things for certain:
Adrian wasn't gone by accident.
And Ethan Knight was more dangerous than she'd ever imagined.
That night, the mansion felt unnervingly alive — shadows stretched across the walls, whispering secrets she couldn't quite hear. Lily tried to sleep, but every creak of the old floorboards made her flinch. When the clock struck midnight, she gave up, slipping out of bed and wrapping a shawl around her shoulders.
The hall outside was dimly lit, the silence broken only by the distant hum of the city beyond the estate. She wandered aimlessly, drawn by something she couldn't name, until she stopped in front of the library. The door was slightly open.
Inside, a faint light glowed.
She pushed the door wider and froze.
Ethan was there — sitting behind the mahogany desk, a glass of wine in one hand, a document in the other. He looked up slowly, as though he'd been expecting her all along.
"Couldn't sleep?" he asked, voice low and calm.
"I heard noises," she lied.
He smiled — not kindly, but like someone amused by a child trying to be clever. "You're curious, Lily. That's dangerous in this house."
"I just want to understand what's happening," she said, stepping closer despite herself. "Where is Adrian? Why—why do you act like this marriage is just business?"
Ethan set the glass down and leaned back in his chair, studying her. "Because that's exactly what it is. You signed a contract, remember? Emotions were never part of the deal."
Lily clenched her fists. "I didn't sign up to live in fear."
He rose from the chair, moving toward her with deliberate slowness. "Then stop being afraid," he murmured. "Learn to play the game, and maybe—just maybe—you'll survive it."
She opened her mouth to reply, but he brushed past her, pausing at the door. "And, Lily…" His voice softened dangerously. "Don't go looking for Adrian. Some truths are better buried."
The door shut behind him, leaving her alone in the golden light of the library. Her pulse raced, her mind spinning. What had she gotten herself into?
When she turned toward the desk again, her eyes caught on a letter half-buried under a folder. It was addressed to Adrian Knight — dated only a week before the wedding.
And in the corner, in small, trembling handwriting, were the words:
"If you go through with this, you'll never make it out alive."
Lily stared at the note, her fingers trembling. The paper smelled faintly of cologne and iron, like a warning sealed in blood. Someone had tried to stop Adrian… but failed.
She stuffed the letter into her shawl and slipped out of the library before Ethan returned. The mansion's corridors felt longer, darker now, as if the house itself knew her secret.
Back in her room, she locked the door and pressed her back against it, her heart pounding so hard it hurt. She wanted to run, but where? She had no money, no plan — and Ethan Knight had eyes everywhere.
Her phone buzzed. An unknown number. She hesitated before answering.
"Mrs. Knight?" a distorted voice whispered. "If you value your life, leave the mansion. Tonight."
The call cut off.
Lily dropped the phone onto the bed, her mind racing. Was it a trap? A warning? Or was Adrian somehow trying to reach her?
Outside, thunder rolled across the sky, heavy and ominous. She went to the window and saw Ethan in the courtyard, speaking with two men in dark coats. They handed him a sealed envelope. He read it, then glanced up at her window — directly at her — and smiled.
That smile was colder than any storm.
For the first time, Lily felt certain: she hadn't just walked into a contract marriage. She had been drawn into a war she didn't understand. And Ethan Knight wasn't just a husband or a mistake. He was a predator…and she was now inside his cage.