The room was dark except for a faint flicker of candlelight dancing against the walls. Lydia's wrists were bound with a silk ribbon — not tight enough to hurt, but just enough to remind her she wasn't in control. Cassandra paced slowly before her, her heels clicking against the marble floor like a ticking clock.
"Why are you doing this?" Lydia demanded, her voice trembling between anger and confusion.
Cassandra smiled faintly — too calm, too knowing. "Because you need to understand who he really is."
Lydia frowned. "Who?"
Cassandra's eyes glimmered. "Jaden."
That single name cut through the air like ice. Lydia's heart tightened, her mind flashing through moments — the dinners, the quiet smiles, his mysterious silences.
"What do you mean?" she asked, her voice lowering.
Cassandra leaned closer, her perfume sharp and intoxicating. "You think you know him? You've seen his suits, his money, his charm… but have you seen what's buried beneath all that?"
Lydia's pulse quickened. "You're lying."
Cassandra chuckled softly. "Am I?" She stepped back, her silhouette framed by the candlelight. "He once destroyed everything he touched, Lydia. Everything. I should know — I was there."
Lydia's throat tightened. "You're just trying to turn me against him."
"Maybe," Cassandra whispered, "or maybe I'm the only one trying to save you before he does it again."
The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. Cassandra turned toward the door. "He's coming for you, Lydia. But ask yourself — is it to save you, or silence you?"
The door closed softly behind her, leaving Lydia in chilling stillness.
Her heart raced. For the first time since she met Jaden, doubt crawled into her chest —
dark, sharp, and unshakable.