A week of comfortable days passed quietly. The wound on Ella's hand had almost fully healed, leaving only a faint pink scar—a small reminder of the first time Lucian had stood up for her. The mansion finally felt completely like home, no longer a cold, strange luxury house. Every morning when Ella woke up, the familiar fear in her heart was gone. This stability was a luxury she had never dared to hope for in her past life.
But even as she slowly got used to this peace, the image of Lucian without his blindfold remained deeply engraved in her mind, a shadow she could not shake off, lingering in her heart. She began to look at him differently, noticing all the small details she had ignored before.
Even in the darkest rooms, he never bumped into furniture. When he reached for a cup or a book, there was no fumbling—his movements were perfectly precise. The angle at which he turned his head was always exactly right, as if he could clearly see every expression on her face through the thin blindfold.
She did not dare to question him, especially after he had asked her to trust him, especially after he had given her the first stability in her life. She told herself over and over that he must have his reasons for doing this. He had the right to keep his secrets until he was ready to tell her. She should be grateful for his tenderness instead of insisting on uncovering truths that might break their fragile peace.
But doubts would not fade. Every time he did something a truly blind man could never do, the doubt grew heavier, weighing on her chest, making her silent and distracted. And Lucian saw right through her heart at a glance.
One afternoon, Ella sat by the window, staring blankly at the garden, the book on her lap long forgotten. Lucian walked over slowly and sat beside her, his movements gentle and calm. He reached out and placed his hand over hers, his fingertips warm, filling her with a strong sense of security. Ella trembled slightly and came back to her senses.
"You've been distracted lately," he said softly, his voice full of care and worry. "Is something bothering you? Did someone say something to you? Or… is it about what you saw that night?"
Ella held her breath instantly, her eyes wide with shock. She thought she had hidden her thoughts well, but even through the blindfold, he could see right through her. She hesitated for a long time, her fingers twisting nervously together, not knowing how to speak.
"I'm sorry," she finally whispered, her voice weak. "I didn't mean to be quiet. I just… have so many questions, but I don't want to push you. I really want to trust you, I do, but everything is full of secrets, and I can't let go of my worries completely."
Lucian sighed softly, his voice gentle and helpless. He squeezed her hand gently. He did not avoid her, did not get angry, did not try to deceive her. Instead, he leaned down slightly, his voice low and sincere.
"Ella, I know it's hard. I know it's unfair to you to ask you to trust me completely without giving you any explanation. But you have to understand—I'm not playing games, and I'm not lying on purpose to amuse myself. There are people watching me. They want to hurt me. If they find out the truth about my eyes, they won't only come after me. They'll hurt you too. I'm pretending to be blind more to protect you than to protect myself."
His words hit her heart like a warm current, and her eyes instantly filled with tears. She had never thought of that. She had been lost in her own confusion and doubt, never realizing that his secret was to protect her, not to deceive her. All this time, he had put her safety first, and he had never complained, even when she doubted him.
"You… did all this for me?" she asked, her voice trembling.
Lucian nodded, the corner of his mouth lifting into a faint, bitter smile. "You are my wife, Ella. I promised to protect you, and I will keep that promise. Wait for me a little longer. I promise you—when the danger is completely gone, when I can protect you without this disguise, I will tell you everything, with nothing hidden. Until then… please keep trusting me. Okay?"
Ella nodded quickly and wiped the tears from her cheeks with her uninjured hand, feeling guilty for her earlier doubts. She squeezed his hand tightly and silently promised herself that she would wait patiently for the day he told her everything.
But the tension between them had just lifted when Ethan appeared at the living room door, his face pale and more urgent than ever. He quickly walked to Lucian's side, bent down, and reported in a low, hurried voice in his ear.
Lucian's face darkened instantly. All the tenderness around him vanished, replaced by a cold, tense aura. He stood up abruptly, letting go of Ella's hand, and looked at Ethan, his voice cold and sharp.
"Are you sure?" he asked sharply.
Ethan nodded, his expression grave. "Yes, sir. The watcher broke into the outer garden last night and left a mark on the fountain. It's exactly the symbol we've been tracking. He's getting closer. And Harrison has been meeting him secretly. We suspect… they're working together."
Ella's heart sank. She had known this peace would not last, but she had not expected the danger to come so quickly. She had not imagined that Lucian's own cousin would collude with an outsider to harm him. She looked at Lucian, fear in her eyes. He immediately turned to her, his face softening again. He reached out and gently held her cheeks.
"Don't be afraid," he said, his voice gentle but firm. "Nothing will happen to you. Ethan will double the security. No one can break into this mansion. Stay inside today, don't go near the windows or the garden. I'll handle everything else."
Ella nodded quickly, too scared to speak. She watched as Lucian and Ethan hurried away, their steps fast and determined. Once again, she realized deeply that the man she had married was not just a gentle, caring husband. He was fighting a dangerous, secret war, and she was trapped in the middle of it.