The aftermath of the incident left the master bedroom suffocatingly quiet. On the heavy velvet sheets, Elena's eyelids finally fluttered shut, exhausted from a terror she didn't fully understand. Lucas stood by the bedside, his chest tight as he looked down at her. He adjusted the blanket with a gentleness that felt entirely foreign to the cold walls of the Venzagrase estate.
When he stood up, the warmth left his face, replaced by a razor-sharp chill. He stepped out onto the balcony, pulling out his phone and dialing his head of security.
"Dig," Lucas commanded, his voice a low, lethal whisper. "I don't just want names. I want to know exactly how she managed to run away from our wedding that night. Check every blind spot in the venue's security, trace the vehicles, and find out who helped her escape." He paused, his grip tightening on the balcony railing as he looked back at the sleeping girl. "And more importantly... find out who met her after she fled. Someone made her this scared. I want to know who broke her."
The next evening, the heavy oak door to the guest suite creaked open. A young maid walked in, keeping her eyes strictly on the floor. "Ma'am? Master Lucas requests your presence. It is time for dinner."
Elena sat up, rubbing her eyes, her heart immediately quickening its pace. Before she could even step out of bed, the door swung open completely, and Reema walked in, dismissing the maid with a sharp flick of her wrist.
Reema crossed her arms, her eyes scanning Elena with deep disdain. "Grandpa Leo is downstairs tonight," Reema warned, her voice dripping with venom. "Which means you had better be on your absolute best behavior. Don't you dare cause an issue tonight, Sarah. The old man doesn't have the patience for your drama."
Elena, wanting nothing more than to avoid a confrontation, nodded obediently. She kept her mouth shut, trying to blend into the background.
But as they walked out into the corridor, Reema's hand shot out, grabbing Elena's arm in a bruising grip.
"You think you can deceive my brother with this little act of yours?" Reema hissed, leaning in close. "It might work on Lucas, but it won't work on the rest of us. You can no longer deceive this family. And that fake baby you were claiming to have? I know it was all a scheme from the start. I just didn't know you were foolish enough to get caught so easily."
A cold spike of dread pierced Elena's chest. *A fake baby?*
Her mind raced in a panic. The family thought Sarah had lied about being pregnant. But Elena knew the truth—the real Sarah *was* pregnant. She knew it for a fact. But because Elena was standing here in Sarah's place, showing no physical signs of a pregnancy, the Venzagrases thought it was all an elaborate hoax. Elena swallowed hard, the grief and terror twisting her stomach. She still believed the real Sarah was dead, buried under a mountain of dark secrets, and she couldn't say a single word to defend her without exposing her own identity.
Confused, grieving, and desperate, Elena just nodded numbly and tried to pull her arm away.
The resistance only fueled Reema's anger. She dragged Elena further down the hallway, her grip tightening. "Stop playing mute and talk, you dimwit!"
Elena just stared back at her, completely helpless, her large eyes wide with unvoiced terror. Seeing no reaction, Reema finally let go with a disgusted groan. "Forget it. Just walk."
Downstairs, the atmosphere in the grand dining room was suffocatingly stiff. The Venzagrase family was already gathered around the massive mahogany table. At the head sat Grandpa Leo, his sharp, ancient eyes reviewing everything and everyone. To his right was Lucas, listening coldly as the elders discussed the next steps for the family business.
The moment Elena stepped into the dining room, the entire room went dead silent. All eyes turned to her.
Lucas's gaze fixed on her instantly. His eyes narrowed, entirely distracted from the business talk. His mind was racing, analyzing every shift in her posture. *Why is she so different?* The Sarah who vanished into thin air on their wedding night was a cunning, fearless strategist. The girl standing at the entrance of the dining room was fidgeting frantically with her fingers, her shoulders hunched like a trembling target. He stared intensely, his mind burning with a singular, dangerous focus: *How did you get away from me that night, Sarah? And who did you meet out there that made you this terrified?*
The silence stretched, hostile and heavy, until one of the oldest nannies in the household broke the tension. "Sit over there," the nanny said, pointing to a seat a few spaces down from Lucas.
Elena hurried to the chair, the hostility in the room pressing down on her chest. Moments later, a servant placed a plate in front of her. It was a bizarre, intricate foreign dish filled with complicated garnishes and multiple sets of silverware she had never seen before.
The old nanny chuckled, a mocking, testing sound. She stepped forward, deliberately picking up a specific knife and fork, demonstrating the movements with exaggerated slowness. "Do you even know how to use these, dear? Or have you forgotten that, too?"
Instead of snapping back with a witty, arrogant insult like the real Sarah would have, Elena simply nodded profusely. She looked up at the nanny with wide, innocent eyes, nodding like a frightened child eager to please.
From the head of the table, a low sound broke the silence.
Lucas chuckled.
The sound shocked the rest of the family, making several relatives stiffen. But Lucas wasn't laughing at her—he was completely captivated by how entirely different, almost cute, this version of his wife was. It was a complete mystery. He had never seen Sarah act this way before. Seeing her nod like an obedient child only intensified his dangerous obsession to unravel the mystery of that wedding night and destroy whoever had dared to put that look of fear in her eyes.
The rest of the table remained entirely silent, terrified to utter a single word. They chose their next breaths carefully, well aware of how dangerously dear Lucas holds Sarah. After the incident in the morning, and seeing the intense, protective way Lucas was watching her now, the entire family was convinced of one thing:
Despite the lies, the escape, and what they believed to be a fake pregnancy... Lucas Venzagrase was still completely infatuated with her, and he would hunt down whoever made his wife this afraid.
The next day breakfast ended in the same suffocating silence in which it had begun. The heavy silver cutlery was cleared away, leaving an oppressive tension hanging over the grand dining room. Elena quietly slipped away to the living room, trying to make herself as small as possible, her fingers still trembling from Reema's cruel accusations about the "fake" pregnancy.
Just as the family began moving out of the dining room, the heavy front doors of the Venzagrase estate swung open.
A elegant woman wrapped in high-end designer silk walked into the foyer. It was Camellia, a close family friend. She had come to find Noah's mother, as the two had planned a shopping trip for the afternoon. But the moment Camellia stepped into the main living room, her eyes locked onto Elena sitting on the sofa.
Camellia froze. Her face drained of color, a look of profound worry and disbelief washing over her features.