The night was heavy with silence. The city lights below painted faint golden lines across Jaden's penthouse windows, flickering like secrets she wasn't meant to see. Lydia's heart hammered in her chest as she stepped inside — his door had been left unlocked, like he didn't expect anyone to come. Or maybe… he wanted her to.
The air smelled like his cologne, sharp and faintly woody — comforting, yet haunting. Every inch of the place screamed control. Everything was in perfect order. Except the desk — that's where she saw it.
A drawer slightly open.
Her curiosity whispered louder than reason.
Inside, Lydia found a black envelope. Heavy. Smooth. No name on it. When she slid it open, a photograph slipped out — a woman, elegant but cold-eyed, standing beside a man that looked exactly like Jaden… only younger, darker, and colder. Cassandra.
Beneath the photo was a letter — the handwriting messy, desperate. She only needed a few lines to feel her knees weaken:
> "You think you've buried the past, Jaden, but some debts never die. She'll know soon — and when she does, she'll hate you as much as I do."
The paper trembled in her hands.
Her breath caught.
She'll know soon… Was that about her?
A sudden creak from the hallway made her spin around — her heart skipped. The shadows seemed to move, swallowing her whole. Then, Jaden's voice cut through the silence.
"Looking for something, Lydia?"
His tone was calm, but the storm in his eyes said otherwise.
And for the first time, she realized — she wasn't sure if she was standing before the man she loved…
or the man she didn't know at all.