Three years ago.
Summer.
The Carter house on the coast of Maine.
Helena arrived before everyone else.
Nathaniel was supposed to come two days later, caught up in an investor meeting in Switzerland. And Julian… Julian wasn't part of the plan.
She stepped out of the car with her suitcase and a white linen dress. The ocean smelled of salt and wild mint. It was a landscape suspended in time, where nothing hurt, where everything seemed possible. Even peace.
She spent the afternoon reading in the library, barefoot, with a glass of wine and soft music playing. The house was empty, silent, perfect.
Until it wasn't.
At seven, the front door opened. Footsteps. A soft thud. And then, that unmistakable voice.
"You're here?"
Helena stood up abruptly. Julian appeared in the doorway, a backpack slung over his shoulder, a wrinkled shirt, and messy hair.
"And you?" she replied. "I thought you were in Italy."
"My exhibit got canceled. I came to hide from the world. Looks like I'm not the only one."
They stared at each other for a moment that lasted too long.
"Nathaniel arrives Saturday," she said, as if it were a warning.
"Lucky me," he said with a half-smile. "Two days with you before the king returns."
Helena rolled her eyes, but couldn't help smiling. That night, they had dinner together on the terrace. Pasta, wine, nervous laughter. They spoke little in the city. There, everything flowed effortlessly.
When the moon was high and the wind turned colder, Julian went for a blanket and draped it over her shoulders. They fell silent, staring at the sea.
"Are you happy with him?" he asked suddenly.
Helena blinked.
"What kind of question is that?"
"One you never ask when you really are."
She looked at him. Not as her fiancé's brother. She looked at him as what he truly was: the only one who had ever made her feel seen.
"Julian, we shouldn't…"
"I know," he whispered, stepping closer. "But tell me you haven't thought about it."
She didn't answer. And in that silence, he leaned in.
The kiss wasn't clumsy. It was inevitable. The result of something that had been building for far too long. Their lips met with restrained urgency, with anger, with tenderness, with guilt.
Helena pushed him away after a few seconds. But it was already too late.
"This can't happen," she said, her voice breaking.
Julian stepped back.
"Then forget it happened. Even if I can't."
He turned and went inside, leaving her trembling in the dark.
The next morning, Helena woke up to Julian's suitcase packed and a message:
"I can't stay. If I do, I won't be able to pretend. Take care."
He didn't speak to her again until Nathaniel's engagement party, a year later.
And now, as Helena recalled everything from the Carter mansion's terrace, she understood something she hadn't wanted to accept before.
She hadn't been able to forget him either.
Lauren Meyer's office was immaculate, as always. Legal books, diplomas, expensive yet cold contemporary art. Just like her. Always polished. Always perfectly in control.
Helena shut the door behind her firmly. She didn't ask permission. She didn't smile.
Lauren looked up from her desk, surprised.
"Everything okay?" she asked with a tense smile. "I thought you were coming tomorrow for the contract."
Helena didn't respond immediately. She set her purse on the chair and slowly approached the desk.
"How long?" she finally asked, her voice low.
Lauren frowned.
"How long what?"
"How long have you been sleeping with my fiancé?"
Silence. The kind that freezes the air. Lauren turned pale.
"What are you talking about?"
Helena pulled a letter from the inside pocket of her coat. She placed it in front of her.
Lauren didn't touch it. But her eyes dropped.
And her expression said it all.
"It wasn't what you think…" she began.
"Then what was it? An accident? A relapse? A half-decade-long mistake?"
"It was before you, Helena."
"That letter isn't from before me."
Lauren finally looked her in the eyes. For the first time, without any shields.
"He came to me. It wasn't something we planned. And I… I didn't know how to say no."
Helena felt a knot in her stomach.
"Are you pregnant?"
Lauren swallowed hard.
"No."
"And if you were?"
"I'm not," she repeated. But now she didn't sound so sure.
Helena took a deep breath. She didn't cry. She didn't scream. She just stood there, feeling something inside her begin to harden.
"I trusted you with everything, Lauren. My fears. My doubts. My dreams. And you…"
"I swear I didn't know he was going to propose. When he did… it was already over between us."
"'Between us'?" Helena repeated bitterly. "You two had an 'us'?"
Lauren closed her eyes, as if she could erase it all.
"You don't know who he really is, Helena," she said at last. "He loves you, yes. But he also needs to control everything. Everyone. He dragged me into something I still don't know how to handle."
"Neither do I," said Helena. "But unlike you, I won't stay quiet."
She turned and headed for the door.
"Helena, wait—"
"No. Not this time."
And she left, leaving Lauren behind with the letter trembling in her hands.
Outside, rain began to fall on her car's windshield.
But inside Helena, the storm had already begun.
The Carter mansion seemed asleep under the pale light of dawn, but in the library, a single lamp remained lit. Julian held a crumpled yellow envelope in his trembling fingers.
"How could she do it?" he murmured to himself, rereading the copy of the contract with his father's forged signature.
The idea that his own mother might be behind the ruin of the Blake family made his throat tighten. But what hurt most was that Nathaniel, his brother, either ignored it—or worse, was covering it up.
Victoria entered the room without a sound, with the elegance and authority that had always defined her.
"You're still up?" she asked, her voice sweet but firm.
Julian didn't bother to hide the envelope.
"I've been thinking about all of this. The transfer, the contract, the signature… Why is no one talking about it?"
Victoria stepped closer, took the envelope, and calmly slid it into the fireplace.
"Because some truths are dangerous, son. And not everyone is ready to face them."
"And Nathaniel? Is he on your side? Or does he know more than he says?"
She smiled, almost maternally.
"Nathaniel does what he must. We do what's necessary. Families aren't always what they seem."
Julian looked at her, full of suspicion.
"And Helena? What role does she play in all this?"
"She's the missing piece to keep the balance. But it won't be easy for her—nor for any of us."
With those words, Victoria left the library, leaving Julian alone in the dark… and in doubt.